It’s a dismaying cycle: An artist creates beautiful works. A story breaks that the artist has a despicable personal history. The public is left confused and discomfited, with a now-uneasy connection to formerly beloved pieces of art. Lather, rinse, repeat.
The number of contemporary individuals–mostly men–to whom this cycle applies is dizzying; however, the phenomenon is hardly new. The Talmud (in Horayot 13b-14a) tells the story of Rabbis Nathan and Meir, who sought to publicly embarrass and depose Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, the leader of the rabbinic movement. After their plot was foiled, the rest of the Rabbis were left with a dilemma: What to do since two of the greatest halakhic minds in their generation turned out to be halakhic insurrectionists?
The Rabbis arrived at an unusual solution, resolving that any law taught by Rabbi Meir or Rabbi Nathan be attributed to “others” or “there are those who say,” respectively. In other words, they stripped credit from them, and, as we’d say, they separated the art from the artists. Still, the Rabbis struggled as today, too, many struggle with such compromises.
The story goes on, explaining that two generations later, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel’s grandson was learning laws attributed to these pseudonyms (“others” and “there are those who say”) and asked his father, poetically, “Who are they whose waters we drink but whose names we don’t recall?” His father replied, “Men who sought to uproot your honor and the honor of your house.” The son snapped at his father, quoting Ecclesiastes 9:6 to say, in effect, that the fight was ancient history. The father retorted, citing Psalm 9:7, that “the enemy is gone, but the ruins are eternal.”
My explication of this bit of Talmud isn’t all indulgence–the cycle of ill repute has once more renewed as Peter Yarrow’s legacy receives deserved scrutiny. Yarrow, who recently entered hospice, is the disgraced champion of much music from America’s 60s folk revival. Not only was Yarrow convicted (in 1970) of “indecent liberties with a 14-year-old girl” (when he was 32), but other allegations have arisen that he may be guilty of even more serious sexual crimes.
Here’s the other side of Yarrow: As a member of the trio Peter, Paul, and Mary, he helped produce countless masterpieces. I was raised on his music, from “Puff the Magic Dragon” to “Light One Candle.” He has cited his Jewish identity as a major motivator for any good he has achieved, which, admittedly, he has. He was active in working for justice for decades–though, as evidenced by his behavior, everyday women didn’t merit his fervent support.
As Yarrow passes on, we are left with a challenge similar to the Rabbis: What to do with a man such as this? In talmudic fashion, allow me to pose some moral quandaries corollary to this question without being so chutzpadik as to imagine I could provide satisfactory answers:
- Do we refuse to listen to his music? If so, do we create new tertiary victims–the innocent men and women who collaborated with Yarrow, whose livelihoods may still depend on sale and licensing of songs related to him?
- If we do listen to his music, how does (or must) our experience change?
- Some of Yarrow’s victims are still alive; do we further traumatize them by listening to music written by this problematic man?
- Is it good to talk about this, because doing so means we implicitly caution men that their legacies will be tarnished if they act poorly? (A bonus: Should men really need such a warning to avoid horrible behavior?)
- Is it bad to talk about this, because doing so may bring more fame to a man who doesn’t deserve it?
- Is there such a thing as teshuvah in these situations? What would be sufficient to reach a pre-wrongdoing status quo ante?
- Can the stain on a wrongdoer’s work be eliminated after (or by) their death?
- Is there any real hope of separating the art from the artist?
I could go on longer, but I’m not sure it’d ever help me stop spinning my wheels. Suffice it to say, I’m sad that so many awful men have fooled us masses into admiring them.* I’m sorry, too, that Yarrow is part of that group of infamous malfeasants, but it’s a legacy he earned.
Soon, he’ll enter eternity as we all do. In his case, the ruins of his sins may truly be eternal.
*It is reprehensible, too, that even our sacred spaces aren’t spared from these shandas. Beyond the infamous cases such as Shlomo Carlebach, there are–of course–others. I leave them out of this article not to spare their reputation, but since because they do not deserve further attention.
I can’t answer this question fully, but I have some thoughts beginning to brew and form.
1) I have a policy with my kids that a mitzvah cannot be undone, so poor behavior doesn’t mean that their prior positive acts were worthless. It means that we have to do the hard work of accepting people with their flaws and base trust, esteem and consequences on a complicated set of events. It’s no different with anyone else, though we can afford to put up larger, faster barriers with those outside our family.
2) Does it make sense that modern artists are doomed to be judged and shunned harshly while artists of long ago can forever stay on their pedestals because there was less publicity of their crimes, personalities and beliefs and because we can’t hear their alleged victims testimonies first hand? Will we remove the best works of art from the Louvre based on the discovery of a damning diary from 1810? Can art, once born and loved, stand on its own feet? Who will judge?
3) Should scientific inventions be banned if the scientist with an extraordinary mind was a criminal? Why would that be different?
4) Few artists of any kind are simple people with no dark areas. If we want to enjoy human-made art instead of allowing only AI generated works, we are going to have to accept the work of messed up artists. In fact, they often create this art to deal with their demons and consuming that art helps us work through our crap as a safe form of expression.
5) Is there much that we consume that is free of crime and damage? Aren’t we complicit in the actual crimes committed when we buy and use most foods, electronics, cars, and plastic junk knowing that its production and use demands child labor, environmental poisoning, wars waged over minerals, etc. ? Purity culture is complicated and we need to look at ourselves as well as at others.
In my opinion, a “mitzvah” like a deeply moving song, novel, painting, sculpture or poem cannot be undone.
Learning more about an artist might or might not tarnish the experience of the art or invention for us, but I don’t think that anyone who continues to enjoy the art should be shamed or shunned along with the artist nor should the art be made inaccessible.