Cultural Institutions Face Pressure to Move Beyond Performative Allyship

Understanding the Challenges of Solidarity in the Art World

In recent days, social media has been inundated with statements from galleries expressing solidarity with protests against Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). These posts, often featuring black text on white backgrounds and thoughtful fonts, promise to ‘hold space’ and ‘support our communities.’ As activists across the United States call for a nationwide strike against ICE, the pressing question for cultural institutions is whether their actions can bear the moral weight of the moment.

While many of those crafting these statements likely have genuine intentions, it is crucial to recognize a pattern in the art world: sincerity often morphs into mere style, leaving the foundational aspects of business unchanged. This phenomenon is commonly termed performative allyship.

Historically, performative allyship has manifested in various forms. In 2015 and 2016, it was symbolized by safety pins, while in 2020, the art world witnessed a wave of black squares flooding social media. In each instance, these gestures aimed to position individuals and institutions on the right side of history, often without necessitating any real change to their operational practices.

Frictionless allyship, which is solidarity that does not require any operational transformation, can be well-meaning yet still ineffective. A heartfelt caption or a beautifully crafted solidarity graphic may feel sincere, but if the underlying practices remain unchanged—such as commission structures or payment timelines—the impact of these gestures is minimal.

The important distinction lies in the intent and effect of these actions. True solidarity introduces friction, requiring adjustments in schedule, budget, or contractual terms. It compels institutions to prioritize consequence over convenience, a notion that resonates deeply with the history of protest and social justice movements.

For instance, during the Civil Rights movement, protestors did not merely issue statements about racial segregation; they physically occupied whites-only lunch counters, effectively causing disruptions and forcing society to confront the realities of racial violence. This act of protest transformed private suffering into a public issue.

Similarly, today’s protests against ICE aim to disrupt the quiet efficiency of immigration enforcement. As families face sudden separations and detentions, the goal of these protests is to create visible friction, compelling society to acknowledge the tangible impact of these policies.

The current nationwide strike, dubbed ‘ICE Out,’ urges participants to engage in ‘no work, no school, no shopping’ actions in response to the devastating consequences of federal immigration enforcement. Tens of thousands are participating in economic blackouts, with labor unions and community organizations banding together to demand an end to ICE funding and accountability for the agency’s actions. In cities like New York, various businesses are closing their doors or engaging in solidarity actions, showcasing a commitment to collective action that involves genuine economic sacrifice rather than mere symbolic gestures.

In a consumer-oriented society, such friction also manifests as refusal. For example, many Black Americans are choosing not to shop at corporations like Target, which has long benefited from cultural philanthropy while simultaneously contributing to systemic inequities. This decision to withdraw participation is not random; it is a deliberate act of resistance aimed at breaking the cycle of corporate philanthropy that does not address the underlying issues.

To truly stand in solidarity with those affected by ICE’s actions, cultural institutions must ensure that their gestures of support translate into measurable changes. Questions need to be asked: Did this solidarity effort cost the institution anything? Did it result in a shift of resources toward immigrant artists and communities? Will there be lasting changes in how artists are compensated or how power is distributed?

Friction requires observable change—whether that means paying artists on delivery, reducing commissions, or creating emergency support for undocumented workers. Solidarity must manifest as tangible support that prioritizes the needs of those whose lives are disrupted by unjust policies, rather than as another polished post intended for social media visibility.

In an art world that often repackages critique as aesthetics, genuine allyship requires more than just well-crafted statements. It demands a commitment to choosing human urgency over institutional comfort, thereby ensuring that solidarity extends far beyond the confines of a single post or gesture.