Philip Glass will not debut his Symphony No. 15 at the Kennedy Center this June. The 88-year-old composer—set to turn 89 this Saturday—pulled the scheduled world premiere of the work, citing a conflict between the institution's current direction and the values embodied in his portrait of Abraham Lincoln.
The cancellation eliminates performances planned for June 12 and 13. Grammy-winning conductor Karen Kamensek was scheduled to lead both.
Glass released his reasoning on Tuesday:
Symphony No. 15 is a portrait of Abraham Lincoln, and the values of the Kennedy Center today are in direct conflict with the message of the Symphony. Therefore, I feel an obligation to withdraw this Symphony premiere from the Kennedy Center under its current leadership.
According to Breitbart News, President Trump ousted the Kennedy Center's previous leadership. His name now appears on the outside of the venue—a change that requires an act of Congress.
Glass received Kennedy Center honors in 2018, before the transition. He joins artists Renée Fleming and Bela Fleck, who withdrew from planned performances over the past year. The Kennedy Center did not immediately respond to requests for comment.
Symphony No. 15 is a musical portrait of Lincoln. Glass wrote it as a reflection on the president who preserved the Union and ended slavery. The composer sees his work as carrying Lincoln's message forward—and he's concluded the Kennedy Center under current management cannot host that message authentically.
It's a claim about institutional values, not just aesthetics.
Glass is not the first artist to step back from the Kennedy Center in recent months. Fleming and Fleck made similar decisions over the past year. The common thread: discomfort with the institution's transformation under new leadership.
These are not fringe figures. These are establishment artists who built careers within the same cultural infrastructure they're now abandoning. That tells you something about how significant the shift feels to them.
But it also reveals something else—a belief that their moral position is best expressed through absence rather than engagement. They're not arguing. They're leaving.
The left has mastered the art of the boycott. When they disagree with an institution's direction, they withdraw their participation and frame it as a principled stand. It's a performative exit that doubles as a press release.
Glass's statement exemplifies this. He doesn't specify which values conflict or how. He doesn't engage with what the Kennedy Center is doing differently now versus when he accepted its honors in 2018. He simply declares incompatibility and walks away.
This is the same playbook used across corporate boards, academic institutions, and cultural venues. If you can't control the institution, delegitimize it by refusing to participate. The withdrawal itself becomes the argument.
It's worth noting what Glass isn't doing: He's not donating the premiere to a competing venue that better reflects Lincoln's values. He's not staging it independently and inviting the public for free. He's just canceling it. The political gesture matters more than the art reaching an audience.
The Kennedy Center will survive without Glass's symphony. The Trump administration has made clear its intent to reshape cultural institutions it views as hostile to conservative Americans.
Other artists will likely follow Glass's lead. Some will stay and perform anyway. The Kennedy Center's calendar will continue. The only certainty is that both sides will claim vindication—Glass for refusing to compromise, the administration for exposing progressive intolerance of ideological diversity in leadership.
Meanwhile, audiences who might have attended those June performances won't hear the premiere. That's not Trump's doing. That's Glass's choice.
Philip Glass has written 15 symphonies. He's built a legacy that will outlast any administration. At 89, he's earned the right to premiere his work wherever he chooses—or not at all.
But let's be clear about what this cancellation represents. It's not a defense of Lincoln's values. It's a refusal to share space with an institution under leadership that Glass finds politically objectionable. The composer who built his career on innovation and collaboration now draws a line: perform only where the politics align.
Lincoln held the Union together by making room for people he disagreed with. Glass honors him by walking away from a room that no longer feels ideologically comfortable. The irony isn't subtle.
The Kennedy Center's new direction may be wrong. But the progressive response—withdrawal, silence, and the expectation that absence proves moral authority—won't change it. Glass made his statement. Now Symphony No. 15 waits for a venue that passes the purity test.
