ABSTRACT
On the face of it, the very idea of artistic citizenship looks like an oxymoron. From ancient times to the present, artists have been asked to pay tribute to and have been viewed with suspicion by all manner of officialdom. Plato, who fancied himself a philosopher-king, thought the right music could promote social harmony but wanted to kick playwrights out of his ideal Republic. China’s self-proclaimed first emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi (221-209 BC) built extensive public works, including 7,000 terra cotta sculptured soldiers for his mausoleum, but also burned books and banished music. Why would artists seek more of such freighted attentions?
