Art is never apolitical. But artists are not politicians.

Art is political. It has been from the night of times. And artists have used their art to convey political messages, to make the oppressed feel less alone and the oppressors feel bad about their actions.

However, artists are not politicians. Which is why, in front of the first war on European territory in 30 years (did someone say 75? perhaps they forgot about Yugoslavia.) the art world should be careful to censor artists based on their passport.

The unanimous reaction of the art world to the Russian invasion of Ukraine was an unanimous condemnation of the Russian government. Why is that a problem? Because it then escalates into a series of self complacency actions which have little to do with supporting Ukrainian citizens and a lot to do with Western saviourism.

Firing Russian artists for not taking a stand against the war can seem a strong gesture of solidarity. Excluding Russia from international artistic competitions and fair can be a way of refusing to spread their government's propaganda. But how exactly excluding Russian musicians from theatre programmes and Russian authors from University curricula is any helpful? And if we think about it, when was the last time anyone from the board of any Biennale, theater or film festival had to personally stand up against Putin?

Art is supposed to build bridges, not destroy them.

Art is supposed to build bridges, not destroy them. Russian artists are a way into Russian's culture, and they have historically been at the forefront of criticising their own government. Tolstoy said that robbers were less dangerous than a well organised government. Dostoevsky, whose lectures were suspended by a university in Milan, was exiled in Siberia for having circulated copies of anti-propaganda works.

But, artists are first and foremost, citizens. And Russian citizens are now facing consequences for speaking up against their government that no other European citizen faces. If some artists have deliberately supported Russian propaganda, asking them to step down of international events is a logical answer, but asking those who have been silent to step up is forcing them to make a move whose consequences are unpredictable.

EU and US institutions forcing Russian artists out of their programmes speak higher of how much they fear for their reputation than how much they want to support the oppressed. As I said, art is political. But what's sad is that in the West, it now tends to follow a people-pleasing agenda.

Climate change is the topic of the moment? Let's build indoor installations with plants (who cares if they suffer indoor climates)! Russia invades Ukraine? Let's make some grand gesture to show we are against war, pro peace and Gen-Z friendly, something that will bring people closer to the arts. When did the art world forget that is art that is supposed to bring people closer together?

When did the art world forget that is art that is supposed to bring people closer together?

The sad news is that this was will trigger several other political crises. While we are busy sharing Instagram posts showing solidarity to the first wave of white refugees since the Bosnian war, Ukraine is postponing the sowing of wheat, which will result in massive increase in global food prices. This will trigger more political crises in the upcoming months, and potentially, new waves of those not-so-white refugees Europe don't like as much.

What can the art world really do for this crisis? Probably something that will make them less viral, but with a higher cultural value.

Build cultural bridges. If there's something we have learned from Germany after WWII is how cultural awareness plays a crucial role in post conflict reconciliation. We all hope in a Putin-less future for Russia, therefore we should work on the basis for a less conflictual relationship with Russia, Russian people and the Russian culture. The Ernst Von Siemens Art Foundation offering curator grants to both Ukrainian and Russian refugees is a great example of how you can help portraying a less polarised image of the two cultures involved in this conflict.

Give voice to the underrepresented. Ukrainians' voices are now rightfully amplified by the worldwide media, but who are the silent victims of this crisis? What about those people who were refused entry to Poland because of their skin colour? What about those not-so-white refugees who have been starving and freezing in the Polish woods since last October, because their wars are somehow considered less relevant, or their lives less important? What about the children of the not-so-white refugees of a few decades ago, stuck in the ghettos of Paris and London, feeling that they don't belong to the country they were born in? What about North African people who risk living through another wave of protest and instability once bread will become unaffordable because of the wheat price increase?

Can the art world explore this liminal spaces, these uncomfortable emotions, or will it stick to a clickbait strategy to please their privileged audience? A week after the BAFTA Awards failed taking a public stand on the climate emergency, I wonder if these roaring 20s will be the decade where we see another artistic renaissance, or the decade where we witness the art world sinking into a loophole of politcally correct callouts that do nothing to challenge the systems that created those inequalities they claim to stand against.