Smithsonian's Kim Sajet Finally Resigns
How the National Portrait Gallery director's betrayals finally caught up with her
“Too big, not from life, too pro-Trump, too political, and no good.”
Those were the cutting and dismissive words spoken to me by Kim Sajet, Director of the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery, during an eleven-minute phone call—an extraordinary and painful moment following my application to have my painting considered for display in December o f 2016, just weeks before President Elect Trump’s inauguration. I had requested that my portrait of Donald J. Trump be recognized as a tribute to one of the most historic political figures in modern American history. The call ended with her abrupt declaration: “You can appeal it all you want…” — click.
I had created the painting, titled Unafraid and Unashamed, in the summer of 2015 under a powerful wave of inspiration. At the time, Trump was a ridiculed outsider—a private businessman with no political experience—yet I believed he would go on to win the presidency. Against all odds, he did just that, defeating a crowded Republican field and ultimately Hillary Rodham Clinton, arguably the most powerful and politically connected female candidate in American history.
When he won in 2016, many were shocked. I wasn’t. I had already painted the moment.
As an immigrant artist, I had undertaken an America pilgrimage of sort, a patriotic political art journey across the fruited plain with my massive Trump portrait, from New York to California. The experience was remarkable, and is chronicled in my book, Odious and Cerberus: An American Immigrant’s Odyssey and His Free-Speech Legal War Against Smithsonian Corruption. But at the end of that journey, I was left asking: What now?
Those I met along the way repeatedly told me, “That belongs in the Smithsonian.” Though unfamiliar with what that truly meant at the time—I thought of rockets and spaceships—I felt a calling. After gathering letters of support from my local congressman, mayor, other regional New York political leaders, a radio talk show host and art collectors, I reached out.
That’s when Kim Sajet called, I was expecting her secretary.
What could have been an inspiring conversation turned into a traumatic experience. I stood in respect when she called, but by the end, I was left shaken. Her objections were arbitrary and personal: the painting was “too pro-Trump,” “not from life,” “too political,” “too big,” and simply “no good.” Yet her own gallery had previously accepted overtly political works like the Hope poster used in President Obama’s campaign—displayed both in 2009 and again in 2013. During that same inauguration, giant Chuck Close portraits of Obama were proudly displayed. Clearly, politics and size were not true disqualifiers.
When I challenged her on the claim that my painting wasn’t done “from life,” pointing out that Obama’s Hope image came from a photoshopped photo downloaded from the internet, Sajet exploded. She shouted that it was indeed “from life” and then dismissed me again with, “Your painting is no good.” I was stunned—not only by the hostility but by the double standards.
Today is Saturday, June 14, 2025. Just days ago, former President Donald Trump—now twice elected—publicly declared that he had fired Kim Sajet. While legally he may not have had the authority, his symbolic declaration sent shockwaves through Washington. Sajet, in defiance, went to work as usual. But the moment had arrived: the presidential loss of confidence in her leadership was undeniable.
Over the past eight years, Sajet’s abuse of authority has been shielded by layers of institutional protection. From the Smithsonian Board of Regents, including Chief Justice John Roberts, to Smithsonian big-wig Dr. Richard Kurin, who adjudicated my appeal and sided with Sajet—every level of oversight failed to uphold what the institution claims to stand for. Even the U.S. Supreme Court refused to take up my case.
Federal Judge Trevor N. McFadden described Sajet’s actions as “odious” and “partisan”—yet still, somehow, perfectly legal. The Department of Justice defended her actions, hiding behind qualified immunity and stretching the argument that the Smithsonian Institution is a government actor with its own "government speech," thereby stripping me of my First Amendment rights.
This legal sleight of hand—that the Smithsonian is a government entity through and through, yet also somehow independent and non-partisan—has created a shield of legal confusion. On June 9, 2025, Smithsonian Secretary Lonnie Bunch reaffirmed that claim, declaring the Smithsonian was beyond the reach of the president’s authority. This triggered yet another action from me: an emergency petition filed with the Supreme Court on June 11, 2025, asking the Court to finally clarify the Smithsonian’s legal status—a question it refused to answer back in 2019.
For nearly a decade, this legal gray zone has enabled wrongdoing without accountability, creating an impenetrable citadel. I dared to climb that its walls—armed only with conviction and my belief in my constitutional right to freedom of expression. Sajet’s conduct has become a case study in what many call the “deep state”: entrenched, unaccountable, ideologically driven officials immune to the consequences of their actions. She is, quite literally, the poster child of that theory.
The Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery’s founding mission was to chronicle American history and culture through portraiture of the individuals—not based on politics, not based on prestige, not based on the artist’s name, but on historical impact. That’s why it houses an ink sketch of Trump as Icarus, his wings made of burning dollar bills. Yet my portrait, which anticipated the most stunning political victory in modern history up until that time, capturing the zeitgeist of the moment surrounding a remarkable individual, was deemed unworthy.
Why? Because it didn’t suit her politics. Sajet even publicly marched in the anti-Trump protest held on January 21st, 2017, in Washington D.C. tweeting smiling selfies to the official Smithsonian director’s page.
The betrayal is profound—of art, of American history, and of trust.
Those who defended her actions, and who continue to uphold this broken system, bear responsibility. The media and the art world, too, has failed. Rather than reporting the full story, they distort it to fit a narrative, casting me as a fringe actor and ignoring the real facts. They protect institutions when politically convenient, not the people, in this case the artist those institutions claim to serve.
And so, I wait—injured, rejected, but not defeated. My faith in my Lord and Savior has sustained me through this years-long struggle. Whether justice comes in this life or not, I know the truth stands.
Kim Sajet’s resignation is a step toward vindication. The toll she and the system have taken on me—emotionally, spiritually, professionally—is beyond measure. Yet I continue forward, because this is not only about me. It is about what kind of country we live in, and what kind of country we are becoming.
May God do something wonderful in the days ahead. I pray that Kim Sajet finds reflection, repentance, and ultimately redemption.
Let the American people see the truth. Let them reclaim their cultural institutions.
And let the art speak again.