Navigating Free Expression versus Offensive Content
Striking the Balance Between Artistic Freedom and Community Standards has become tougher as we have become a more sensitive society
Happy 4th.
I’ve been programming cutting-edge music for 4 decades—from the most avant-garde noise downtown to Bruce Springsteen at Carnegie Hall. It is both exhilarating and daunting. At its best, a venue becomes a vibrant gathering place where culture, creativity, and diverse perspectives collide, sparking conversation, catharsis, and sometimes controversy. I produced an annual 300-person dinner party around Passover (The Downtown Seder) debating both sides of the Palestinian/Israeli conflict for more than 30 years. This being one of most challenging navigations of free expression — an ideal cherished by artists and audiences alike — while being mindful of content that may offend or alienate portions of the community. The tension between fostering an open platform for ideas and respecting the sensibilities of a diverse world presents one of the most persistent and nuanced challenges as a venue these days.
Opening our stages to more challenging opinions, in particular when media and politics have become so acrimonious and decentralized, when algorithms can shape, if not subtly curating our culture, our artistic and intellectual landscapes—this is when our stages become critical places to communicate. I think of the early days of Jon Stewart’s show, where it felt that his team’s clips of video news was closer to the truth than either Fox or CNN. Our venue’s choices bring together musicians, comedians, speakers, playwrights, and other performers, setting the tone for conversation and community engagement. At the same time, we must consider the values, expectations, and boundaries of our audiences, sponsors, our staff, and the broader public. This dual responsibility requires insight, diplomacy, and a deep respect for both artistic freedom and communal harmony.
We also need to know when to draw the line. The Irish rap band Kneecap performed this past weekend at the Glastonbury Festival and they clearly go beyond being critical of Israel and supportive of Palestinians, but to use the stage to support Hezbollah. At the same festival, Bob Vylan led chants of “Death, Death to the IDF” which is stirring up the audience to incite violence and hatred. This goes beyond free expression and is at the heart of when artistic curators need to step in. While we want to allow for the exploration of taboo subjects, challenge prevailing norms, and give voice to the marginalized, we need to do it without inciting violence and spreading vitriol to our patrons. For us, supporting this freedom can mean hosting performers with controversial viewpoints, programming works that address sensitive social issues, or platforming new and experimental forms that push against the boundaries of acceptability.
In many democratic societies, free expression is a protected right, enshrined in constitutions and celebrated as a linchpin of an open society. Comedians in particular need to view our venues as sanctuaries where difficult conversations can unfold and ideas can be tested in the crucible of public performance. I’ve defended booking Andrew Dice Clay last year to a gay friend even though his show is raunchy and gross; yet, several other gay audience members found his stage character hilarious. The list of comedians we have had that push the boundary making us uncomfortable is vast. But we need to know the difference between titillating vs. unsafe, provocative vs. provoking, and funny vs. not funny.
It is important to recognize that offensive is deeply subjective. What one person finds thought-provoking or cathartic, another may see as insensitive or harmful. For some, exposure to challenging content is a vital part of cultural growth. For others, it can evoke pain, anger, or a sense of exclusion. This spectrum is further complicated by the fact that what is considered acceptable or offensive shifts over time and across cultures. A work that was once celebrated may later be criticized for perpetuating harmful stereotypes; conversely, previously marginalized voices may become newly valued for their candor and insight.
Against this ideal, venue programmers must also be pragmatic. No community is monolithic; what resonates deeply with one group may jar or offend another. Content that grapples with race, gender, politics, religion, sexuality, or violence can provoke strong reactions, both positive and negative. In the age of social media, a single evening's programming can ripple outward, drawing scrutiny not only from local audience members but from national and even international observers.
Clear, honest communication is essential. Venues can prepare audiences and their staff for challenging content through program notes, content advisories, or pre-show discussions. Setting expectations empowers patrons to make informed choices and reduces the likelihood of negative surprises.
In recent years, debates around “cancel culture” have added another layer of complexity. The fear of backlash — whether justified or not — can lead venue programmers to self-censor, avoiding risky programming in favor of safe, uncontroversial fare. While this might shield us from short-term controversy, it risks impoverishing the cultural landscape and stifling important conversations.
Conversely, doubling down on provocative programming without regard for community impact can alienate audiences and damage a venue’s long-term viability. The key lies in navigating a middle path: refusing to shy away from difficult topics, but doing so in a way that is thoughtful, intentional, and attentive to the needs of all stakeholders.
Ultimately, I, we, City Winery strive’s for both free expression and inclusivity. This means curating programs that reflect the diversity of the community, ensuring that marginalized voices are heard, and working actively to make our spaces welcoming to all. We support humanitarian needs and oppose hate in all forms—antisemitism, racism, Islamophobia, homophobia, or any ideology that denies people the freedom to be who they are and live free from domination. That is our political and humanistic philosophy.”
It also means recognizing that offense is sometimes an inevitable byproduct of meaningful art, and that shielding audiences from all discomfort can be as limiting as exposing them to harm. The challenge is to distinguish between discomfort that leads to growth and dialogue, and content that crosses the line into exclusion or abuse.
To program a live entertainment venue is to walk a tightrope, balancing the imperative of free expression with the realities of community standards and sensitivities. There are no easy answers, and the landscape is constantly shifting. Yet, by embracing transparency, dialogue, and ethical reflection, we can create spaces where creativity flourishes and all members of the community feel respected. In the end, the goal is not to eliminate offense, but to foster a cultural environment in which difficult conversations can be had with care, empathy, and a shared commitment to the transformative power of art.
That salad of a run-on should be fixed, will edit now. I am 100% supportive of anti-salad people, even if I am 100% pro salad in my beliefs. I happen to love all salads, Romaine lettuce, watercress, simple cucumber and cayenne, give me your Greek, your Russian dressing, hell, I will eat celery in the raw, and yes, I mean stark naked!
Your quote in large font states: "Ultimately, I, we, City Winery [] support the anti-hate, antisemitic, anti-racial, anti-islamophobic, anti-gay".
With such a word salad of virtue signalling, isn't it almost inevitable that "supporting the antisemitic" would slip out? Or was it a freudian slip, perhaps? Why not anti-salad, or anti-anti-salad? How many times have you heard someone say "I hate salad"?
Hang the haters, it's the only language they understand :-)