Lifestyle
Kennedy Center removes Trump’s name from the building
A tarp covers the facade of the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, DC, on June 13, 2026. Workers removed President Donald Trump’s name from the facade of the building.
Alex Wroblewski/AFP via Getty Images
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Alex Wroblewski/AFP via Getty Images
WASHINGTON – Workers have taken down President Donald Trump’s name from the Kennedy Center, hours after a court-ordered Friday deadline to remove it from the building, and less than six months after it was first affixed to the iconic performing arts venue. The removal of the more than a dozen bronze letters followed a judge’s ruling that the Center could not be renamed without Congressional approval.

In a court filing, Kennedy Center Executive Director and Chief Operating Officer Charles Matthew Floca confirmed that President Trump’s name has been removed from the building façade, despite what Floca said were weather-related delays. References to Trump on the center’s website are also gone.
Just a month into his second term, Trump ousted the Kennedy Center’s president, board chair and board members, then replaced them with a group of trustees that soon named Trump as chairman. Soon after, the president’s name was added to the building, so that it became, “The Donald J. Trump and the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts.”
The administration had on Friday asked a higher court to stay the ruling as it argued that Trump’s name on the building had helped attract donors and was crucial to raising funds for the Kennedy Center’s renovation.
“Without the name, “Trump” on the Building, our fundraising will not only come to a halt,” the administration wrote in a court filing, “but any and all monies raised or committed would be obligated to be returned, refunded or terminated.”

An appeals court denied that request Friday night. Workers erected scaffolding on Friday around the section of the building where Trump’s name had been added in December 2025. Then, in a pre-dawn operation, the laborers draped the scaffolding in tarpaulin, before removing the giant metallic letters. The Kennedy Center had asked a judge to briefly extend the deadline for this removal —because of Friday night thunderstorms forecast for Washington D.C.
Finally, with the scaffolding up, and tarpaulin covering their efforts, workers began to remove Trump’s name. Hundreds of people braved the rain and thunderstorms overnight to document the take-down. Some heckled those involved for hiding the removal using tarpaulin – with shouts of “Cover up!” and “Cowards!”
Among the onlookers watching proceedings was Krystal Brewer, 40, who works for a social justice advocacy group. She said removing Trump’s name was a way to enforce accountability, maintain government checks and balances, and reclaim a piece of Washington from a president who she said has tried to impose his stamp on the nation’s capital. “It’s about just not being able to do something just because you think you’re the most powerful person and you can defy the courts,” Brewer said.
Protestors wave a U.S. and signs as workers prepare to remove President Donald Trump’s name from the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, Saturday, June 13, 2026.
Cliff Owen/AP
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Cliff Owen/AP
Trump has recently overseen the controversial demolition of the White House’s East Wing in favor of a giant ballroom, and ordered large banners of his face to hang from several federal buildings during his second term. “I wanted to see us get a part of our city back,” said Brewer. “With all the things that he’s trying to destroy and corrupt and taint and alter, it’s nice to see a piece of it being restored.”
Also among those gathered on the Center’s plaza Friday was Rep. Joyce Beatty of Ohio, who initiated the lawsuit to remove Trump’s name from the building. She wrote on social media that she had stood outside to watch, writing “No more stalling. It’s time for Trump to obey the law.”

Watching the tarps go up a little before 2 a.m., Saturday, another onlooker, 60-year-old nurse Mary Foltz, said it was a metaphor for the Trump administration.
“I think there’s a lack of transparency — and that’s just the epitome of it,” Foltz said. “This is a meme.”
Lifestyle
‘Alice and Steve’ might be a mess — but it’s also too fun to stop watching
In Alice and Steve, Jemaine Clement and Nicola Walker play long-time friends who turn on each other after he gets involved with her 26-year-old daughter.
Lara Cornell/Disney+
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Lara Cornell/Disney+
I grew up watching episodic shows on network TV, nearly all of them formulaic but some indelibly great. Then, like everyone else, I moved into the days of what my colleague David Bianculli dubbed Platinum TV, where series like The Sopranos and The Wire and Fleabag aspired to something higher. What both these eras had in common was that their shows were carefully crafted — they had an internal logic, and a tone, that held them together.
In recent years, though, there’s been a proliferation of shows that, possibly obeying some algorithm, care less for coherence than sensation. They lurch among tones, from cuteness to sentimentality to meanness, stirring in random plot twists along the way. Bouncing all over the emotional map, these shows depend on compelling actors and a few memorable scenes to make us overlook their loose construction.
A great example is Alice and Steve, an entertaining but sometimes exasperating six-part British comedy on Hulu about two 50-something best friends who turn on each other after he gets involved with her 26-year-old daughter.


While the premise is juicy, it’s also a tad yucky, and I mainly tuned in because its title characters are played by performers Jemaine Clement from Flight of the Conchords and Nicola Walker, whom I’ve raved up on this show more than once.
The series starts poorly with Steve and Alice going on a cutesy bender after a friend’s funeral. Now, I always hate drunk scenes, which are an invitation to overact. As Clement and Walker bray their lines, we learn that Steve’s a divorced celebrity hair stylist who can’t find a girlfriend while Alice is a clothes designer with a doting younger husband, nicely played by Joel Fry, a sweetie-pie of a teenage son — that’s Tyrese Eaton-Dyce — and, of course, that 26-year-old daughter, Izzy, who has inherited her mother’s willfulness. Played by Yali Topol Margalith, Izzy kickstarts the plot by flirting with Steve. Predictably, he succumbs.

Almost immediately, they think they’re in love. While the weak-willed Steve wants to hide their romance — he knows it’s inappropriate — Izzy just blurts out the facts to her mom. Alice flips. And from hereon out in this series where the women are as alpha as the men are hangdog, Alice drives the action. Betrayed and violently angry, she’ll do whatever it takes to break them up — no matter who gets hurt. Her antics unleash Steve’s own malice. We’re in Beef territory.
At its core, Alice and Steve hinges on the way that platonic friendships are often richer and more powerful than romantic ones. It’s a fascinating subject, which may be why I found the script by Sophie Goodhart so frustrating. I wanted her to dig deeper. While the show’s got some very funny bits — Alice’s sharp-tongued mother is a blast — it’s often annoyingly lax.

If Steve really does the hair of Charli XCX, how come he’s a clueless older guy whose pop culture references are Willie Nelson and Woody Allen? If Izzy truly adores her mother as she claims, why does she keep rubbing her relationship with Steve in her mom’s face? Halfway through, one character nukes the other’s career, but this life-shattering event has no real weight: It’s barely even mentioned for the rest of the series.
That said, Alice and Steve is worth seeing for scenes like the one in which Steve spinelessly sells Izzy out or the lacerating discussion between Alice and her husband when he fully grasps that he adores a woman who views him as a reliable but dull concierge, not a man she likes hanging with. Most touching of all may be the lovely sequence when Alice, wise for once, smooths a romantic crisis between her son and his would-be girlfriend, a pair who are the show’s emblem of hope. For once, we understand why people love her.

While most viewers will find Steve more likable than Alice — the show takes pains not to make him appear predatory or creepy — the role doesn’t give Clement a whole lot to do except play variations on shambolic dread and discomfort. The show gets its galvanizing zing from Walker, a beloved star in England with amazing, luminous eyes. Her Alice is the kind of complicated, volcanic heroine that you don’t see in movies and rarely see on TV, one who shows her apocalyptic rage freely and in many different forms.
At least once in every episode, something would lead me to say, “Man, is this show a mess.” But that wasn’t a deal breaker. I kept watching. After all, life is messy, too.

Lifestyle
How to enter your Sporty Spice era : It’s Been a Minute
How to enter your Sporty Spice era.
Getty Images/quantic69/Olga Kurbatova/Anastasiia Zvonary/Photo Illustration by NPR
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Getty Images/quantic69/Olga Kurbatova/Anastasiia Zvonary/Photo Illustration by NPR
Reality dating and professional sports are not as different as you’d think.
Brittany is in her Sporty Spice era – she watched the NBA playoffs, she’s following World Cup games, and she’s watching the New York Liberty play their WNBA season. These games are daily – and so is the reality dating show Love Island. And she noticed that the two formats are not very different at all. Defector.com staff writer and co-owner Kelsey McKinney came to the same conclusion – so the two of them discuss why these games of athleticism and love can bring us together… and why they get valued differently in our culture.
For more episodes on sports and reality TV, check out:
Get rich or die trying: how sports betting is changing our love of the game
Is this the end of reality TV?
The ugly truth of America’s expensive homes
Support Public Media. Join NPR Plus.
Follow Brittany on Instagram: @bmluse
This episode was produced by Liam McBain. It was edited by Neena Pathak. Our Supervising Producer is Cher Vincent. Our Executive Producer is Barton Girdwood. Our VP of Programming is Yolanda Sangweni.
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