“Darkness that, by contrast, makes light all the brighter; bright moments that seem to redeem the dark: that black-and-white opposition is, for me, what makes up the poignant imagery of Christmas,” Vinson Cunningham writes. “Looking back at the year, I can’t help but see things in this Christmassy, paradoxical way.” In art and politics, 2024 has been a swerving journey between high peaks and low depths, blind confusions and piercing revelations, the crooked and the straight. One shock followed another until, by year’s end, it was hard to feel really shocked. In a new essay, Cunningham considers a year of surprises—in art and politics, and in his own life.

 “Darkness that, by contrast, makes light all the brighter; bright moments that seem to redeem the dark: that black-and-white opposition is, for me, what makes up the poignant imagery of Christmas,” Vinson Cunningham writes. “Looking back at the year, I can’t help but see things in this Christmassy, paradoxical way.” In art and politics, 2024 has been a swerving journey between high peaks and low depths, blind confusions and piercing revelations, the crooked and the straight. One shock followed another until, by year’s end, it was hard to feel really shocked. In a new essay, Cunningham considers a year of surprises—in art and politics, and in his own life.