In a shattering blow to the fragile ego of the former reality television star, Donald Trump has been unceremoniously removed from the Kennedy Center's board of trustees. It's enough to make one choke on their overpriced interval G&T. The news broke with all the subtlety of a falling chandelier: the Kennedy Center, that temple of high culture on the Potomac, decided that having a man whose closest brush with the arts was the set of 'The Apprentice' might not be ideal for their institution. Imagine the horror, the sheer unadulterated horror, of a board meeting where the main contribution is a suggestion to replace the National Symphony Orchestra with a tape of 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' on a loop.
Meanwhile, across the pond, British cultural institutions stand as obdurate bastions of stability. The Royal Opera House, the National Theatre, the British Museum — these pillars of civilisation have not, to my knowledge, expelled any of their patrons for gross cultural incompetence. Perhaps because they never let them in to begin with. Our institutions have a certain je ne sais quoi, a quiet dignity that comes from centuries of not electing game show hosts to positions of power.
But let's not get too smug. The removal of Trump from the Kennedy Center is a bitter reminder that even in the land of the free, the barbarians are at the gate. Or rather, they were on the board. The man who once claimed he knew more about ISIS than the generals now apparently knows more about the arts than the artists. It's a special kind of delusion, a madness that only afflicts those who have too much money and too little taste.
What does this mean for the future of American culture? Probably not much. The Kennedy Center will continue to put on shows, and Trump will continue to tweet about how the Kennedy Center is now 'dead' and 'unpatriotic.' He'll go back to his golden palace (read: golf course) and soothe his wounded pride with a diet of well-done steak and ketchup. But for a moment, just a moment, we saw a glimmer of sanity in a world gone mad. A cultural institution said 'no, not you, not here, not ever.'
So raise a glass to the Kennedy Center. They did what many of us have dreamt of doing. They told the emperor he had no clothes, and then they took away his box tickets. It's a small victory in a long, gruelling war, but it's a victory nonetheless. And while British institutions may look on with a mixture of pity and amusement, we must acknowledge that our own houses are not entirely in order. After all, we have our own share of political buffoons who would love nothing more than to get their grubby mitts on our cultural treasures. But for now, the barbarians are at the gates, not inside. Let's keep it that way.
