Trump’s Kennedy Center: Woke Agenda Out, Record Donations In!

Paul Riverbank, 12/11/2025The Kennedy Center shifts right: soaring donations, fractured community, and a new battle for culture.

You could catch it in the way Kari Lake—recently tapped to lead the U.S. Agency for Global Media—carried herself along the red carpet. Beneath the camera flashes, she looked both at home and intent on saying something new. “He’s taking politics out of it, finally,” she told a Breitbart reporter, tone mixing satisfaction with purpose. It wasn’t the usual patter, and she seemed keen to spell out what had shifted: "Before, you couldn’t see a show without getting hit over the head with all the buzzwords—DEI, trans, whatever was on the menu that season. You’d settle in for something—anything—and within minutes, it was off to the races with some agenda. Now? That’s changing."

Her argument, echoed by others with a MAGA bent, was simple enough: if you’re dropping a significant sum on arts tickets, you want a break from campaign-night vibes, no matter how you vote. “President Trump gets this,” Lake insisted. “People want to lose themselves in the music, laugh without a side of lectures. Why shouldn’t they?” For her, the clash was never about the art itself, but about the intrusion. That, in her version of things, had become the new norm—until now.

There were numbers to bolster this drift. Fundraising for the Kennedy Center Honors hit $23 million this year—up dramatically from the $13.7 million of the prior cycle. Lake was quick to claim those figures as proof that the Center’s “everyone welcome” pitch was actually landing. She gestured at new donors rolling in, folks who—if you believe the talking points—wouldn’t have cut checks before.

But step around to the staff entrance, or backstage where the paint peels, and the mood is less buoyant. Word travels fast in theater circles, and more than a few Kennedy Center veterans have found themselves muttering about a leadership team that—charmed as it may be with the power and the partnerships—isn't, in their view, really speaking the language. Accounts slipped out about management asking what a “load-in” was, or confusing basic terms like ‘capacity’. Laughably amateur, some called it. One junior tech whispered conspiratorially, “We’ve had pandemic nights with more seats filled.”

The arts community, predictably, hasn’t been silent. The exodus began quietly—names disappearing from flyers and contracts winding down. “Hamilton” left the scene; reports swirled about Issa Rae backing out before a press release ever landed. Officials avoid naming names, but when artists start scrubbing mention of the Kennedy Center from their feeds, folks notice.

Ironically, even as regular ticket sales falter—opening night of “The Sound of Music” barely drew a crowd to fill half the house—headline donations surge. Some—a bit cynically—see Ric Grenell, the Center’s new chief, as a kind of rainmaker for the deep-pocketed set. The top-tier galas have gotten pricier; the guest lists read more like donor rolls than playbills. Shows that might have floundered before now run mostly on private money, drawing smaller but wealthier crowds.

It’s not just about who’s showing up—or isn’t—but about what ends up onstage. New programming, a prayer vigil for a slain activist, and joint gigs with the Hungarian Embassy have some locals scratching their heads. Senator Sheldon Whitehouse has launched an investigation, dubbed the place a “slush fund and private club” for the administration’s allies. Grenell, for his part, has shrugged it off as old guard griping. On cue, the schedule now touts “bipartisan” town halls and conferences on Christian persecution. If it’s an olive branch, it’s an oddly sharpened one.

Through the swirl, the real story is less about which set of values is in charge, and more about the new Center’s fight to define what ‘American culture’ means—and for whom. President Trump, by Lake’s account, is eager to burnish his own legacy by restoring this “national jewel.” There are sharp allegations—from “criminal level” misspending to culture-war overcorrection—tossed about by both fans and detractors. No one expects them to end soon.

Maybe, in a fragile way, the Kennedy Center is just mirroring everything else in American life: splintered, charged, and—despite it all—still a stage where the nation’s arguments are performed. Whether the curtain rises on a new golden era or just more drama, that’s anyone’s guess. For now, the city’s reigning arts palace feels less like a sanctuary and more like a reflection—the good, the fractured, and the very complicated.

The Kennedy Center’s glow has a way of making even the most jaded Beltway insiders pause—but these days, the pause feels longer, weightier. Once the capital’s unquestioned shrine to haute culture, the Center now sits at a strange junction, where elegance and edge collide and, most evenings, half the room seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.You could catch it in the way Kari Lake—recently tapped to lead the U.S. Agency for Global Media—carried herself along the red carpet. Beneath the camera flashes, she looked both at home and intent on saying something new. “He’s taking politics out of it, finally,” she told a Breitbart reporter, tone mixing satisfaction with purpose. It wasn’t the usual patter, and she seemed keen to spell out what had shifted: "Before, you couldn’t see a show without getting hit over the head with all the buzzwords—DEI, trans, whatever was on the menu that season. You’d settle in for something—anything—and within minutes, it was off to the races with some agenda. Now? That’s changing."Her argument, echoed by others with a MAGA bent, was simple enough: if you’re dropping a significant sum on arts tickets, you want a break from campaign-night vibes, no matter how you vote. “President Trump gets this,” Lake insisted. “People want to lose themselves in the music, laugh without a side of lectures. Why shouldn’t they?” For her, the clash was never about the art itself, but about the intrusion. That, in her version of things, had become the new norm—until now.There were numbers to bolster this drift. Fundraising for the Kennedy Center Honors hit $23 million this year—up dramatically from the $13.7 million of the prior cycle. Lake was quick to claim those figures as proof that the Center’s “everyone welcome” pitch was actually landing. She gestured at new donors rolling in, folks who—if you believe the talking points—wouldn’t have cut checks before.But step around to the staff entrance, or backstage where the paint peels, and the mood is less buoyant. Word travels fast in theater circles, and more than a few Kennedy Center veterans have found themselves muttering about a leadership team that—charmed as it may be with the power and the partnerships—isn't, in their view, really speaking the language. Accounts slipped out about management asking what a “load-in” was, or confusing basic terms like ‘capacity’. Laughably amateur, some called it. One junior tech whispered conspiratorially, “We’ve had pandemic nights with more seats filled.”The arts community, predictably, hasn’t been silent. The exodus began quietly—names disappearing from flyers and contracts winding down. “Hamilton” left the scene; reports swirled about Issa Rae backing out before a press release ever landed. Officials avoid naming names, but when artists start scrubbing mention of the Kennedy Center from their feeds, folks notice.Ironically, even as regular ticket sales falter—opening night of “The Sound of Music” barely drew a crowd to fill half the house—headline donations surge. Some—a bit cynically—see Ric Grenell, the Center’s new chief, as a kind of rainmaker for the deep-pocketed set. The top-tier galas have gotten pricier; the guest lists read more like donor rolls than playbills. Shows that might have floundered before now run mostly on private money, drawing smaller but wealthier crowds.It’s not just about who’s showing up—or isn’t—but about what ends up onstage. New programming, a prayer vigil for a slain activist, and joint gigs with the Hungarian Embassy have some locals scratching their heads. Senator Sheldon Whitehouse has launched an investigation, dubbed the place a “slush fund and private club” for the administration’s allies. Grenell, for his part, has shrugged it off as old guard griping. On cue, the schedule now touts “bipartisan” town halls and conferences on Christian persecution. If it’s an olive branch, it’s an oddly sharpened one.Through the swirl, the real story is less about which set of values is in charge, and more about the new Center’s fight to define what ‘American culture’ means—and for whom. President Trump, by Lake’s account, is eager to burnish his own legacy by restoring this “national jewel.” There are sharp allegations—from “criminal level” misspending to culture-war overcorrection—tossed about by both fans and detractors. No one expects them to end soon.Maybe, in a fragile way, the Kennedy Center is just mirroring everything else in American life: splintered, charged, and—despite it all—still a stage where the nation’s arguments are performed. Whether the curtain rises on a new golden era or just more drama, that’s anyone’s guess. For now, the city’s reigning arts palace feels less like a sanctuary and more like a reflection—the good, the fractured, and the very complicated.