“Activists Use Guerrilla Wall Labels to Challenge Keffiyeh Ban at Noguchi Museum”
**Guerrilla Protest at the Noguchi Museum Sparks Conversation on Cultural Sensitivity and Institutional Policies**
In what has become a poignant chapter in art-activism, a group of anonymous activists staged a powerful protest at the Noguchi Museum in New York last weekend. This guerrilla action, fueled by the institution’s controversial ban on the keffiyeh—a traditional Arab and Palestinian headscarf—highlighted growing tensions between cultural expression and institutional policies. The protest, carefully designed to critique the museum’s stance, shed light on larger issues concerning representation, freedom of expression, and anti-racism within prominent cultural institutions.
### **Why the Protest Took Place**
The controversy began last September when the Noguchi Museum implemented a dress code update that prohibited employees from wearing “political dress,” which included the keffiyeh. The policy, ostensibly introduced to ensure that visitors felt “safe” and “comfortable,” garnered sharp criticism for targeting specific cultural symbols and allegedly perpetuating systemic bias. The decision led to the termination of three staff members who chose to defy the rule.
The museum’s actions quickly caught the attention of both local and international communities, with many viewing the policy as racially charged and culturally insensitive. Several prominent figures, including acclaimed author Jhumpa Lahiri, declined engagements or honors associated with the museum to protest its decision. The activists’ guerrilla intervention serves as another chapter in a now global conversation about the museum’s contentious policy.
### **The Protest: Tackling Layers of Meaning in the Museum Space**
Rather than a straightforward demonstration, the activists employed inventive and subversive measures to underline their critique. They affixed mock wall texts to ordinary objects throughout the museum, labeling them with names such as the “Bench of Banishment,” the “Alarm of Annihilation,” and the “Wall of Erasure.” Written in the same typeface and formatting style as the museum’s official exhibition descriptions, these labels seamlessly blended into the environment, making them nearly indistinguishable from the original curatorial texts.
The protest group issued a statement explaining that their intervention sought to expose how the museum’s policies have “transformed cultural artifacts and everyday symbols into tools of exclusion.” The choice to label mundane objects underscored the far-reaching implications of the institution’s policies on both the artifacts it curates and the people who work within its walls.
### **Subtle Yet Impactful Messages**
In addition to the wall texts, the group crafted humorous, satirical mock identification cards for museum administrators and board members. These cards featured fabricated titles such as “Museum Neutrality Director” and “Board of Distrustees,” a dig at the leadership’s perceived complicity in enforcing and defending questionable policies.
One particularly compelling component of the protest was the placement of keffiyeh-printed bookmarks in books scattered throughout the museum. The bookmarks carried the signature black-and-white design of a traditional keffiyeh and included captions that highlighted the museum’s ban on the garment. The group cleverly added a challenge aimed directly at museum leadership: “You hid the keffiyeh — now it’s your turn to find it, Director.”
### **Public Response: Resonance and Reflection**
Visitors to the museum reacted with curiosity and, in some cases, solidarity with the message behind the protest. Jessica, a Flatbush resident who stumbled upon the guerrilla wall texts during her visit, described the protest as a “smart way of addressing the controversy.” She noted how the protest not only drew attention to the museum’s policies but also added new layers of meaning to the exhibition itself.
For some, the action felt particularly poignant given the legacy of the museum’s founder, Isamu Noguchi. Noguchi, a Japanese-American artist, voluntarily entered an internment camp during World War II to advocate for those unjustly confined due to their heritage. Jessica remarked, “With Noguchi’s history— being born to a single mother as a multiracial child and a voluntary internee during anti-Japanese sentiments— he’d probably be rolling in his grave right now with the museum’s decision.”
### **A Larger Movement**
This protest was not an isolated occurrence. In October, activists staged a silent demonstration outside the museum’s annual gala, where Bengali British-American author Jhumpa Lahiri was slated to receive the Noguchi Award. Lahiri turned down the honor as a gesture of protest against the keffiyeh ban. Similarly, California-based artists David Horvitz and Ali Eyal orchestrated another protest by draping Noguchi’s sculptures in keffiyehs throughout Los Angeles and Orange County.
Meanwhile, the conversation surrounding the keffiyeh has transcended New York’s art world. Notably, Palestinian artists Johny Andonia and Faten Nastas Mitwasi recently created a Nativity scene at the Vatican, featuring infant Jesus wrapped in a keffiyeh—a powerful nod to broader themes of representation and cultural solidarity.
### **Cultural Institutions and Accountability