The Politics of Colour: How Artists Use Palette to Make a Statement
In the realm of art, colour is often relegated to the role of a mere visual component, a decorative afterthought to form and composition. However, I would argue that it functions as something far more potent: a complete language, a deliberate tool, and, when wielded with intent, a formidable weapon. The hues that animate canvases, sculptures, and installations possess an innate capacity to evoke visceral emotions, challenge entrenched ideologies, and mirror the intimate personal and political struggles of the artist. This transforms the use of colour into a deeply political act, forcing us to question what a specific shade signifies within the societal context of its creation. Just as a painter's brushstrokes can orchestrate beauty or chaos, their palette operates as a subtle yet powerful commentary on the world, a silent argument rendered in pigment.
This exploration of colour is a form of expression that engages the viewer on a deeply political and emotional level precisely because it bypasses rational thought and speaks directly to our instincts. A crimson slash across a grey field does not need to be “read" as anger; we feel its urgency. A field of serene blue does not announce its tranquility; it immerses us in it. This is the unique power of colour; it communicates through sensation, making its politics felt before they are fully understood.
For me, this has always been a personal truth. Colour has held a magnetic, almost primal power since my earliest memories. I recall how the colours in my environment — the defiant vibrancy of street art, the melancholic palette of a classical painting, even the intricate patterns of fabrics in my home — spoke in a language louder and more immediate than words. I am drawn to the tensions within a single piece, where vivid hues clash or harmonise, creating a visual dialogue as complex and alive as the world itself. Art, in my experience, resides in this very interaction between colour and feeling. It is a visual lexicon that communicates essential truths far beyond the confines of conventional speech.
In this light, I see colour in art and colour in politics as sharing a common DNA. On a canvas or in the public square, colour becomes a form of protest, a language of resistance, and a bold declaration of identity. It is the unifying yellow of a protest movement, the sacred saffron of a flag, or the provocative pink of a guerrilla art installation. These are strategic, symbolic acts that use the universal language of hue to unite, to challenge, and to assert existence. Colour, therefore, is never just colour. It is a vessel for meaning, a catalyst for emotion, and an active participant in the ongoing story of who we are.
Source: Kevin O’Connor
Art and Colour: More than the Visual
When most people consider art, their focus rests on the purely visual. Yet, to stop at what the eye can perceive is to overlook art's true capacity as a medium for dialogue and dissent. Artists wield colour to articulate a distinct point of view. They use it to draw attention to social inequality, illuminate the struggles of marginalised communities, and mount a direct critique of the status quo. When deployed with intention, colour can transform a seemingly innocuous painting into a potent arena for political discourse.
Renowned African-American artist Kerry James Marshall’s strategic use of colour is a direct challenge to the historical canon. Marshall employs bold, unapologetic shades and, most notably, a foundational use of deep, unmodulated black to center Black figures and experiences. This deliberate palette confronts the erasure and caricature that have long plagued the representation of Black bodies in Western art. Through his mastery of tone, he paints Black life not as a peripheral subject but as the central, sovereign narrative, actively filling the void that history has created.
Similarly, Frida Kahlo’s vibrant colour scheme was integral to her personal and political expression. The brilliant magentas, yellows, and greens that saturate her self-portraits are a direct homage to her Mexican heritage, but they also function as a visual language of defiance. These hues became her declaration of independence from the constricting roles imposed upon her as a woman, an indigenous person, and an individual living with disability. Her colour choices resonate with a deep connection to her identity, asserting her presence against societal pressures to conform or diminish.
However, the politics of colour are not confined to messages of empowerment. It can also serve as a stark mirror to a society's prevailing anxieties. The muted, often grim palettes that characterised the Dada movement or art from the Great Depression reflect a collective disillusionment with a world in crisis. In these contexts, the absence of colour speaks as powerfully as its presence. The strategic use of greys, washed-out browns, and funereal blacks embodies despair, offering a chromatic critique of war, political failure, and social fragmentation. In this sense, colour becomes a nuanced historical record, capturing the emotional tenor of its time through both its vivid presence and its telling absence.
The Colour of Identity: How Race and Culture Shape Palette
The use of colour in art is inextricably linked to the complex forces of cultural and racial identity. For centuries, the Western artistic canon consistently marginalised people of colour, not only in subject matter but through a restricted palette that failed to capture the richness of non-European experiences. This historical exclusion, however, has fuelled a powerful artistic reclamation, with contemporary artists consciously harnessing colour to assert their own narratives and redefine their place in visual culture.
The colour purple, for instance, carries a long history of association with royalty and power. In the hands of many African-American artists, this hue is subverted and re-energised to symbolise the profound resilience and layered complexity of Black life. It is transformed from a symbol of aristocratic wealth into a testament to historical struggle, spiritual depth, and cultural triumph. This strategic reclamation is vividly embodied in the work of artist Amy Sherald. Her portraits, rendered in a distinctive grayscale for skin tones set against bold, often unexpected colour fields, are a radical act of representation. The deliberate use of bright, assertive colours, including resonant shades of purple, elevates her subjects into iconic, self-possessed figures. Sherald’s work directly challenges the stereotypical depictions of victimhood or invisibility, placing Black identity on a pedestal of dignity and quiet power.
Sherald's practice demonstrates that colour is a vital means of asserting narrative authority in the face of historical erasure. A parallel strategy can be observed in the work of Indigenous artists like Jaune Quick-to-See Smith. Her vibrant, layered canvases are a deliberate act of resistance. The vivid colours drawn from the landscape and cultural traditions serve to reclaim space within an art world that has often sidelined Native American voices. Her use of colour is both a celebration of heritage and a critical commentary on the forces that have sought to commodify or erase it.
Furthermore, colour is intimately tied to the expression of nationalism and cultural pride, particularly in post-colonial contexts. In nations with a history of colonisation, the palette of the artist often becomes a tool for reasserting a sovereign identity. When artists incorporate the specific hues of their national flags or traditional crafts, they are doing more than signalling patriotism; they are performing an act of resistance against the cultural forces that once sought to subjugate their heritage. This is powerfully evident across Latin American art, where the vibrant, unapologetic colours of the land and its people are placed at the very forefront. These colours are the beating heart of the artwork, challenging the muted European-derived narratives, and asserting a visual language that is defiantly and joyously their own.
The Politics of Colour in Social Movements
The connection between art and politics is perhaps nowhere more direct than in the strategic use of colour by social movements. Across history, specific palettes have been consciously adopted to forge collective identity, communicate core values, and wage a visual battle for public consciousness. From the rainbow flag of the LGBTQ+ community to the stark monochrome of the Civil Rights era, colour functions as a fundamental tool for advocacy, solidarity, and lasting change.
During the Civil Rights Movement, colour was deployed with profound intentionality, both as a visual strategy and a form of resistance. The powerful black-and-white photography of artists like Gordon Parks did more than document events; it framed the struggle in terms of stark, moral clarity. The high-contrast imagery highlighted the brutal divisions in American society, rendering the chasm between segregation and justice impossible to ignore. This monochromatic palette spoke directly to the racial binary of the time, but it also conveyed a deeper, more urgent message. The absence of colour underscored the notion that the fight for equality was a fundamental conflict, a matter of human dignity and survival, stripped down to its most essential truth.
In a vibrant contrast, the rainbow flag of the LGBTQ+ community demonstrates how colour can transcend artistic expression to become a global emblem of activism. Designed by artist Gilbert Baker in 1978, the flag is a masterclass in symbolic colour coding. Each stripe carries a specific meaning: red for life, orange for healing, yellow for sunlight, green for nature, blue for harmony, and purple for spirit. This simple yet deeply considered design transforms abstract values into a visible, unifying banner. It has become a rallying point and a declaration of existence, turning a spectrum of hues into an enduring symbol for human rights, diversity, and the unyielding pursuit of acceptance.
This strategic visual language extends to other movements as well. The politically charged posters of the Chicano art movement, for instance, often employed bright, saturated colours drawn from Mexican folk art. This was a deliberate aesthetic choice to express cultural pride and protest the systemic discrimination faced by Mexican-Americans. The vibrant palettes served as a visual reclamation of identity, challenging stereotypes and asserting a powerful, unapologetic presence in the cultural landscape.
Source: Daisuke Yokota
The Absurdity of Colour in Political Propaganda
While colour can be a force for liberation, its power is morally neutral, making it equally effective as a tool for manipulation and control. In the hands of political propagandists, colour is systematically weaponised to bypass reason and appeal directly to the subconscious, often with devastating consequences. The Nazi regime illustrates a chillingly effective case study. Their deliberate use of a stark red, black, and white colour scheme was a masterclass in psychological manipulation. The bold red in their flags and uniforms was chosen to evoke visceral associations with blood, revolutionary fervor, and a brutalist form of strength. This calculated palette, combined with the stark geometry of the swastika, created a symbol that was instantly recognisable, visually intimidating, and engineered to forge a unified identity through intimidation and exclusion. This serves as a sobering reminder that the same visual principles that unite a community can be perverted to promote hatred and manufacture consent for atrocity.
This strategic deployment of colour extends beyond totalitarian regimes into the mainstream arenas of corporate and political branding, where it functions as a form of soft propaganda. The psychology is meticulously calculated. A corporation like Coca-Cola employs a specific shade of vibrant red and white to create a consistent association with warmth, happiness, and invigorating energy. It is a long-term, strategic effort to embed the brand within a positive emotional framework in the consumer's mind.
On the political stage, this colour calculus becomes even more critical. In many democracies, blue is strategically chosen to project an image of calm, trustworthiness, and stability, while red is leveraged to suggest dynamism, action, and power. The effectiveness of a political candidate is now intrinsically linked to how convincingly they can “wear" these assigned colours, projecting a persona that aligns with the electorate's deepest anxieties and aspirations. The colour becomes a shortcut, a non-verbal cue that seeks to build trust or provoke a reaction without the necessity of complex policy explanations. Therefore, the political colour palette is a carefully constructed veneer, designed to simplify complex ideologies into digestible emotional impulses, demonstrating that the battlefield of public opinion is often painted in deliberately chosen hues.
Colour as a Catalyst for Change
As our exploration has shown, colour functions as a dynamic and potent force, far exceeding its traditional role as a mere decorative element. It operates as a language of resistance, an instrument of empowerment, and a medium for incisive social commentary. Throughout history, artists and activists have harnessed this power to articulate the most pressing issues of their time, using palettes to communicate on a level that transcends words and resonates on a deeply human frequency. From the defiant vibrancy of Frida Kahlo's self-portraits to the unifying spectrum of the Pride flag, colour actively shapes and propels cultural conversations, forging identities, solidifying movements, and leaving an indelible mark on the canvas of history.
In this sense, colour can be understood as a form of visual philosophy. It is our collective subconscious made visible, a silent yet eloquent discourse on power, identity, and belonging. Each deliberate hue in a Kerry James Marshall painting or a Gordon Parks photograph acts as a challenge — a demand for visibility, a claim to space, and a question posed to the status quo. It compels us to look beyond the surface, to interrogate the narratives we are presented with, and to perceive the deeper truths that lie beneath.
Ultimately, the politics of colour remind us that our visual environment is never neutral. It is a constructed landscape of meaning, where every shade carries the weight of history and the spark of potential change. To engage with colour critically is to recognise that art and life share the same bloodstream, and that the choices made on a canvas or in a public square are eloquent assertions of what we value, what we resist, and what we dare to imagine for our shared future.
S xoxo
Written in London, England
25th February 2025