When I first heard about Elliot Berke, the general counsel at the Kennedy Center, allegedly trying to book his own dad rock band, The DePlorables, for a gig at the center’s Speakeasy lounge, I couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s the kind of story that feels almost too absurd to be true—a blend of nepotism, self-promotion, and the peculiar intersection of politics and art. But as I dug deeper, I realized there’s more here than just a quirky anecdote. It’s a microcosm of the broader cultural and political shifts happening under the Trump administration’s influence on institutions like the Kennedy Center.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the sheer audacity of the move. Berke, a top lawyer, isn’t just any employee; he’s a key figure in an institution that’s supposed to embody artistic excellence and integrity. Yet, he reportedly pushed for his own band—a group that, by their own admission, is ‘the worst band you’ve ever heard’—to perform at a venue known for its curated, intimate acts. Personally, I think this speaks to a larger trend of blurring lines between personal ambition and professional responsibility. It’s not just about booking a gig; it’s about the erosion of standards and the normalization of self-dealing in public institutions.
One thing that immediately stands out is the Kennedy Center’s response. Staffers reportedly nixed the idea, citing concerns about conflicts of interest and the band’s lack of professionalism. This raises a deeper question: How did we get to a point where such a proposal was even considered? In my opinion, it’s a symptom of the Trump era’s ‘anything goes’ mentality, where loyalty to the administration often trumps (pun intended) competence or ethics. The Kennedy Center, once a symbol of bipartisan cultural unity, is now being reshaped to reflect Trump’s vision of a ‘Golden Age in Arts and Culture.’ What this really suggests is that art and culture are becoming increasingly politicized, with institutions like the Kennedy Center serving as battlegrounds for ideological agendas.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Berke’s alleged attempt to book the British prog-rock band Yes, for whom he also serves as legal counsel. Here, he was reportedly more cautious, stepping back from direct negotiations to avoid obvious conflicts. But the fact that he even tried highlights a troubling pattern: the intertwining of personal and professional interests in ways that undermine public trust. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about booking bands; it’s about the slow erosion of accountability and transparency in institutions that are meant to serve the public good.
What many people don’t realize is how these small, seemingly trivial incidents are part of a larger narrative. Trump’s overhaul of the Kennedy Center—including plans to rename parts of the building after himself and a massive renovation that will shutter the center for two years—is about more than just aesthetics. It’s about rebranding a cultural icon in his own image. From my perspective, this is a classic example of how political power can be wielded to reshape cultural narratives. The Kennedy Center, once a tribute to President John F. Kennedy, is now being transformed into a monument to Trump’s ego.
This raises another point: the role of art in society. The Speakeasy lounge, with its curated acts and intimate vibe, is meant to celebrate artistic excellence. Booking a niche cover band like The DePlorables would have been a disservice to both the venue and its audience. What this really suggests is that art, under this administration, is being reduced to a tool for personal gain rather than a means of cultural enrichment. Personally, I think this is a dangerous precedent. When institutions like the Kennedy Center prioritize loyalty over merit, it’s not just the art that suffers—it’s the very idea of public service.
If you take a step back and think about it, this story is also a reflection of our broader cultural moment. Dad rock, with its nostalgia for the 1970s, is having a resurgence, but it’s often seen as a safe, unchallenging genre. The DePlorables, with their obscure covers and self-deprecating humor, are a perfect embodiment of this trend. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it aligns with Trump’s own cultural preferences—a longing for a glorified past that may never have existed. In my opinion, this isn’t just about music; it’s about the politics of nostalgia and how it’s being used to shape our present and future.
Finally, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for the Kennedy Center. With Trump’s name plastered on the building and allies like Berke in key roles, it’s clear that the institution is being steered in a new direction. But at what cost? Personally, I think the real tragedy here isn’t just the potential booking of a mediocre band; it’s the loss of what the Kennedy Center once represented—a space where art transcended politics. If this continues, we may find ourselves in a world where cultural institutions are no longer for the public but for those in power. And that, in my opinion, is a future we should all be worried about.
