To forge a novel social contract is one thing; to explain it to the public is another. During the Great Depression, the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt recognized that art and architecture could serve as potent vehicles for political ideas. As the government worked to lift the nation out of economic collapse, it didn’t just pass legislation—it built a physical manifestation of the state’s new role in the lives of its citizens.
This ambition resulted in the creation of tens of thousands of public facilities, including post offices, courthouses, and gymnasiums. To decorate these spaces, federal arts programs employed as many as 10,000 artists, creating what are now considered the masterpieces of the New Deal. These works were designed to translate complex bureaucratic shifts into a visual language of hope, security, and national identity.
Perhaps no single site captures this intersection of art and governance more completely than the Wilbur J. Cohen Federal Building in Washington, D.C. Originally the Social Security Board Building, the 1.2-million-square-foot edifice serves as a monumental mission statement for the 1935 Social Security Act. By enshrining a right to protection against economic hardship, the act fundamentally reversed the era’s prevailing philosophy of “rugged individualism,” a term championed by Roosevelt’s predecessor, Herbert Hoover.
The building, designed by architect Charles Z. Klauder, blends modernized classical lines with Art Deco and Egyptian Revival flourishes. Inside, the aesthetic is one of “efficient bureaucracy,” featuring green marble walls with sinuous Art Moderne curves and bronze-clad elevators. But, this vision of a benevolent state is currently under threat. The building has been placed on a list of federal properties marked for “accelerated disposition,” meaning a prompt-tracked sale that could lead to its demolition.
The Visual Narrative of Social Security
The interior of the Cohen building is often described as the “Sistine Chapel of the New Deal” due to its concentration of high-caliber murals. The U.S. Treasury’s Section of Fine Arts held competitions to uncover artists who could illustrate “The Meaning of Social Security,” leading to commissions for some of the 20th century’s most influential figures, including Ben Shahn, Philip Guston, and Seymour Fogel.
Ben Shahn’s contribution is the most prominent: two murals, each roughly 70 feet long and 24 feet high. One wall serves as a somber portrait of the American struggle, depicting the bleakness of child poverty, unemployment, and old age. The opposing wall is a vibrant paean to life under the new social contract, featuring scenes of public works, bountiful harvests, and young men playing basketball.
Shahn’s work is noted for its “personal realism,” a style he developed after spending three years as a photographer for the Resettlement Administration (later the Farm Security Administration). Working alongside figures like Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans, Shahn moved away from rigid political theory toward a more humanistic observation of suffering and dignity. His murals include a diverse cast of characters—Black, brown, and white—and subtly acknowledge the flaws of the Social Security Act, which originally excluded agricultural and domestic laborers to secure votes from Southern Democrats.
Divergent Visions of Utopia
While Shahn focused on humanism, other artists in the building explored different ideological terrains. Seymour Fogel’s frescoes, Wealth of the Nation and Security of the People, blend Socialist Realism with streamlined Futurism and Mexican Modernism. Fogel depicts a utopia of broad-shouldered heroes—scientists and architects—though critics have noted a lingering sense of isolation and dystopian gloom in the figures’ expressions.
Philip Guston’s contribution, Reconstruction and the Well-Being of the Family, is a triptych on wood panels that functions like a religious altarpiece. The work is rich with allusions, evoking the Last Supper and the Madonna and Child. With elongated, Picasso-style limbs and the distant gaze of early-Renaissance saints, Guston’s work reflects a transition in his own career away from political art toward a more introspective, easel-painting style.
The Debate Over Propaganda and Art
The legacy of New Deal art has long been contested. In its time, critics from the right dismissed it as “Soviet-adjacent,” while those on the left argued it glossed over the harsher realities of capitalism. High modernist critics, such as Clement Greenberg, went further, labeling the style as “kitsch for the masses.”
However, the artists themselves often viewed the term “propaganda” differently. Ben Shahn argued that propaganda was a “noble word” when it meant propagating a faith or a strong belief in social improvement. He compared the social content of New Deal murals to the religious frescoes of Giotto in Assisi, suggesting that art intended to persuade is not inherently inferior.
The technical influences on these masterpieces of the New Deal were vast and eclectic:
- Regionalism: Influences from artists like Grant Wood and Thomas Hart Benton, focusing on heartland nativism.
- Mexican Muralism: The monumental, socially conscious style of Diego Rivera, whom both Shahn and Fogel assisted in 1933.
- European Avant-Garde: Elements of German Expressionism and Surrealism, characterized by spatial distortion and stylized figuration.
A Fragile Legacy in a Changing City
The current state of the Wilbur J. Cohen Federal Building reflects a stark contrast to the hopeful vistas painted on its walls. The building is currently home to the Voice of America and the Department of Health and Human Services, both of which have faced significant budget cuts and staffing reductions under the current administration. Visitors describe unlit newsrooms and stripped equipment, creating an atmosphere of decay that clashes with the building’s monumental limestone facade.
The threat of demolition is compounded by a broader trend in Washington, D.C., where public spaces are being remade to reflect new political images. From the razing of the White House East Wing to the proposed “down to the steel” overhaul of the Kennedy Center, the architectural landscape of the capital is shifting. For the Cohen building, the danger is acute because the murals are painted directly onto the walls, making them nearly impossible to salvage if the structure is leveled.
The fight to preserve the building is currently being led by the Living New Deal, an organization dedicated to documenting the era’s cultural contributions. Their campaign seeks to protect not just the architecture, but the humanist ideology embedded in the art—a vision of a mutual bond between the American citizen and the state.
The fate of the building now rests on the outcome of the “accelerated disposition” process and the potential for historic preservation interventions. The next critical checkpoint will be the official determination of the GSA’s sale process and any subsequent legal challenges regarding the weakening of historic building regulations.
We invite readers to share their thoughts on the preservation of public art and the legacy of the New Deal in the comments below.
