Staff told me that new hires “don’t understand the basic vocabulary” of arts management. They have questions. For example, what is “capacity”? What is an “arena show”? What is “back line”? What is “stage left”? What is an “asher”? Perhaps predictably, Trump's rise to power and the firing of veteran cultural programs have made the center radioactive for performers. Comedian Issa Rae and the musical “Hamilton” ended their contracts shortly after Trump named himself chairman. Other artists quietly followed the arts center; at least one agreed to speak but asked not to be named on social media.
The center has endured months of bad press – reports of plummeting ticket sales, skittish donors and resentful artists awaiting payment. Even though the organization's reputation had fallen, Grenell found people who wrote big checks. To celebrate this year's awards, he sharply raised the prices of the best seats. In a phone call, Grenell said he also supports “niche programs that don't necessarily sell tickets” if they can find a donor with deep pockets. (He asked Patriots owner Robert Kraft's foundation to support the center's production of “Parade,” citing its “uplifting” beauty and warnings against anti-Semitism.) But the center's president is known as an unreliable chronicler of its fortunes. For example, Grenell boasted that The Sound of Music sold out on opening day. Based on domestic sales data verified New YorkerHowever, its power was at fifty-four percent. Basically, one of the employees told me, “I'll do better selling a show during a pandemic when half the people are dead.”
Under Grenell's leadership, the Kennedy Center appears to have become a place of political and interpersonal negotiation. The new president appointed Elliot Burke, his longtime lawyer, as the organization's general counsel, and Lisa Dale, Kari Lake's former campaign adviser (Lake's husband, Jeff Halperin, also worked at the center, producing social media videos) to head the sixteen-person development department, up from nearly a hundred people. Several staffers told me that the new approach to fundraising is more typical of political campaigns—a series of one-time, steroidal cash shots, often with an expectation of access in return. Grenell “cares about countries and corporations,” one employee said. “He doesn't care about people.”
When Trump appointed Grenell as acting intelligence director during his first term, Grenell was criticized for not registering as a foreign power advocate after his public relations firm, Capitol Media Partners, worked for a fund financed by autocratic Hungary. (Grenell's lawyer at the time said he did not need to register.) In October, the Kennedy Center partnered with the Hungarian Embassy to host a concert featuring violinist Zoltan Magi, which Magi said doubled as a concert. celebration of “Hungarian freedom, Christian values and national pride”” According to an archived version of Grenell's personal website, his PR firm also had clients in Kazakhstan; Kennedy Center spokesman Roma Daravi said last month that the Kazakh government had pledged to make a donation to the center.
In late November, Rhode Island Senator Sheldon Whitehouse announced that the Environment and Public Works Committee would launch an investigation into Grenell's leadership. “The center has been robbed of millions of dollars in lost revenue, canceled programs, unpaid use of its facilities, and wasteful spending on luxury restaurants and hotels,” Whitehouse wrote. The investigation's press release called the Kennedy Center a “slush fund and private club for Trump's friends and political allies.” Grenell disputes these accusations, although it cannot be denied that the art center has become openly MAGA-leveled up since he took over. In the past few months, NewsNation has hosted a bipartisan town hall with Chris Cuomo and Tom Homan, as well as a summit on Christian persecution hosted by CPACwhich, according to Whitehouse, paid sharply reduced rent. Documents obtained by Whitehouse indicate that FIFA used the center's buildings for free, but a Grenell spokesman said the soccer organization donated more than $2 million and also provided $5 million in “sponsorship opportunities.”
The irony of all this is that Trump was attracted to the Kennedy Center by his cultural prestige, a resource that the cronyism and self-interest of his supporters have severely depleted. The organization has historically relied on “underpricing,” in which artists accept much lower rates than they would otherwise be able to perform at a culturally significant venue. Now that the place's reputation is tarnished, artists have less incentive to accept lower fees. And for all the administration's claims that the revival led to the Kennedy Center's collapse, there is little to suggest that the traditionalist counter-program is leading to increased ticket sales. Noel's concert, which Grenell eagerly promoted back in February – “we're doing a big, huge celebration of the Nativity of Christ,” he said – is scheduled for December 17th. As of December 8, just over three hundred tickets had been sold out of approximately twenty-three hundred.
At this point, we know what Trump wants to do with the Kennedy Center. As a developer, he wants to renovate it; as a politician he wants to incorporate this into his movement. But Trump's investment in the organization appears deeply personal. Each honoree seemed to represent a different aspect of the president's idealized self. There was Kiss, a group of rebellious rockers from Queens. Straight, which evokes romantic notions of a tough, unpretentious everyman, a guy who can lasso a bull. As for Gaynor, the president spoke passionately about the inspiration that can be found in the “three simple words” of her signature song: “I Will Survive.” And Stallone, Trump said, his voice heavy with emotion, was “the biggest loser in cinema.”
The most notable example might be Crawford, whom Kelsey Grammer couldn't even introduce without breaking into a self-deprecating ditty. (“Hello, Michael,” he sang to the tune of “Hello, Dolly,” his voice shaking with partial commitment to the episode.) Soprano Laura Osnes, ostracized by the Broadway community after the New York performance Mail made public the fact that she was not vaccinated against COVID-19played Christina, the heroine of The Phantom of the Opera. Osnes teamed up with David Phelps, a Christian recording artist, to write the show's theme anthem. As the number reached its climax, the Phantom uttered a loud command: “Drink, my angel of music!” Christina, the brilliant captive, raised her voice higher and higher.
For all his Broadway ambitions, Trump did not look like a man whose dream was coming true when he took the stage as host. His manner of communication was casual and a little bitter. “Many of you are miserable, terrible people,” Trump told the audience to laughter. Some of the night's biggest acts, he said later, “probably aren't my favorites.” A technical snafus hampered the proceedings. The lights in the house came on a couple of times before the video ended. At some point, midway through the performance, members of the crew began moving the piano. ♦
