Here’s a surreal childhood memory-
As a kid dad used to take me to Charlie Chaplin’s house in Switzerland. We were regular guests of the incredibly kind Oona Chaplin, who would treat us to a fancy dinner in her house by the lake, and then a movie. The house had a vast hallway

& she would have a screen set up at one end, bring the sofa through and have chairs placed at the other end and we would watch Charlie Chaplin movies. The original prints with music played on piano. Even as a kid I knew I was privy to something very unique. Something magical.

This is the house. Behind that row of windows on the ground level was a series of grand sitting rooms, and behind and parallel to that, running most of the length of the house, the grand hallway where i watched The Tramp, The Kid , The Great Dictator, and others.

Charlie Chaplin had recently passed away. I think my dad was trying to be a good neighbor and brighten Oona’s spirits. Bringing me along, a wide-eyed kid, might have been a clever bit of strategy on his part.

Anyway, i only bring this up as tonight’s debate reminded me of the responsibility of artists to communicate the important things others can’t seem to nail down. I hope we find our Chaplins making their Great Dictators.

We need voices that make more than noise.