In the US, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is authorised as an administrative policy by a wannabe-dictator president hiding behind a bad fake tan and an even worse orange wig. Yet, its reality is anything but. Children tear-gassed, families separated, public executions, and masked gestapo-like agents roaming homes and streets labelling American citizens as “illegal aliens”. More than 3,800 minors were held in ICE custody last year, hundreds being detained beyond the 20-day legal limit. This sparked artistic protest, with galleries refusing to treat state violence as a neutral background.
Art amplifies those voices silenced by state control
When galleries and artists are told their protest is “too political”, the comfort of staying detached from state violence is maintained. Museums never exist outside power, yet institutions bristle when art moves from representation to action. Built on nationalism, colonial wealth and censorship, museums package ‘neutrality’ as comfort, not integrity. Political art is apparently only safe once decades old and behind glass.
Art is décor, protest ignored, ICE violence sanitised.
At the Amato Studio in Mid-City, Los Angeles, photographer Thalía Gochez presented the exhibition “The Land Will Always Remember Us”. Framed with vibrant piñatas, the gallery entrance invited visitors into stories of the Latina diaspora and the human cost of ICE raids in Southern California. The exhibition transformed the gallery into a space of remembrance and a call for action. Art amplifies those voices silenced by state control.
Artists speak because they must, institutions claim surprise because it is convenient
When galleries like Amato Studio engage in this kind of activism, they collapse the bridge between representation and action. Institutions no longer simply comment on politics, they participate in it. This is a boundary critics seem eager to preserve, yet the impact of art is unavoidable. What we make and consume reflects our lived experience and communicates it forward. Artists speak because they must, institutions claim surprise because it is convenient.
In January, galleries across the US joined a “National Shutdown”, protesting ICE enforcement and calling for “no work, no school, no shopping”. As gallerist Silke Lindner stated, “It’s not a time to be quiet.” Or, more bluntly put, Astor Weeks Gallery, cofounder Cal Siegel declared, “F*ck ICE.” There are no innocent bystanders in the face of injustice, it is our duty to speak out.
Art has revolutionary power. That is precisely why it is being told to behave.