I was more frozen, it's like 'I could lose my job'
In the long and unresolved tension between creative freedom and bodily autonomy, a lawsuit filed by former model Jennifer An against Kanye West asks a question that art has always struggled to answer: where does performance end and harm begin. An alleges that during a 2010 music video shoot at New York's Chelsea Hotel, West choked and violated her without consent, while his legal team frames the encounter as protected artistic expression. The case, brought under a law designed to give survivors more time to seek justice, now sits at the intersection of workplace safety, the limits of the First Amendment, and the quiet coercion that fear of professional ruin can impose on a person's silence.
- A model who froze in fear rather than resist describes being choked and violated on a professional set, her silence mistaken — or claimed — as consent.
- West's legal team does not deny the physical encounter occurred, but argues it was intentional performance art inspired by American Psycho and shielded by the First Amendment.
- The artist La Roux, present that day, later told An that West 'knew exactly what he was doing' and reportedly joked afterward that he had 'put women back 500 years.'
- An's attorney warns that accepting the 'it's art' defense would grant creative figures unchecked license to subject anyone on set to physical contact without consequence.
- The case, filed under a New York law extending the statute of limitations for sexual assault survivors, has not yet gone to trial but is already reshaping how the industry thinks about consent in creative spaces.
Jennifer An was 24 and building a modeling career when she arrived at New York's Chelsea Hotel in 2010 for what seemed like a routine music video shoot for La Roux's 'In For The Kill.' She had no idea Kanye West would be there. When he arrived, the atmosphere changed. Crew members announced his presence through the hallways, models were lined up, and West selected three of them — including An — for a scene.
What followed, An says, was deeply disorienting. West struggled with his lines, called a cut, repositioned himself behind the camera, and when filming resumed, reached out and choked her with both hands. He smeared her makeup and put his fingers in her mouth in a way she felt simulated oral sex. The crew watched in silence. An froze, afraid that resisting would cost her the job. When it was over, West declared something to the effect of 'this is art, I'm Picasso,' and walked off without ever having spoken to her directly.
An immediately asked La Roux not to release the footage. Fourteen years later, she reached out again, and La Roux's response was striking — she wrote that West 'knew exactly what he was doing, he thought it was funny,' and recalled him whispering to her afterward: 'I bet you think I just put women back about 10 years.' La Roux's reply: 'You just put women back about 500 years.'
In 2024, An filed a civil lawsuit under New York City's Gender-Motivated Violence Protection Act, which temporarily reopens the statute of limitations for survivors of sexual assault. West's lawyers moved to dismiss, arguing the encounter was a 'theatrical performance' inspired by American Psycho and protected under the First Amendment — and that An's failure to object or leave constituted consent. Her attorney rejected that framing, warning that allowing artists to claim any physical act as protected expression would create a dangerous precedent for everyone who works in creative spaces. The case has yet to go to trial, but it forces a reckoning with a question that has no easy answer: can silence born of fear ever be read as permission?
Jennifer An was 24 years old and riding the momentum of her appearance on America's Next Top Model when she showed up to a music video shoot in 2010. The job was straightforward: appear in a video for La Roux's song "In For The Kill" at the Chelsea Hotel in New York. She had no idea Kanye West would be there.
When West arrived on set that day, the atmosphere shifted. Crew members scattered through the hallway announcing his presence. The models were lined up to meet him. West selected three of them, including An, to appear in a scene with him. What happened next, An says, left her feeling what she described to the BBC as "suffocated, unsure and scared."
According to An's account, West struggled with his lines during filming, called for a cut, and then repositioned himself. He pulled a chair in front of the camera and sat in another chair behind it, facing An but out of frame. When the music started and cameras rolled, she says, he reached out and began choking her with both hands. He smeared her makeup across her face and put his fingers inside her mouth in a way she felt simulated oral sex. "I feel like he was like trying to touch as much as he could," she told the BBC's Fame Under Fire podcast. The crew stood silent and still, watching. An froze. She was afraid of losing her job.
When it was over, West announced something like "this is art, I'm Picasso," got up, and left. He never spoke to her before, during, or after the encounter. West's legal team does not dispute that the encounter happened. Instead, they argue it was an "intense and provocative theatrical performance"—an homage to a scene from American Psycho, meant to be protected artistic expression under the First Amendment. They claim An was a consenting participant who raised no objection and made no attempt to leave.
But An's experience tells a different story. She spoke to La Roux, the song's artist, immediately afterward and asked her not to air the footage. "I can't have my mum see that," she said. La Roux apologized and agreed. Fourteen years later, in 2024, An reached out to La Roux again via Instagram. La Roux's response was striking. She wrote that West "knew exactly what he was doing, he thought it was funny." She also recalled West whispering to her afterward: "I bet you think I just put women back about 10 years." La Roux's reply: "You just put women back about 500 years."
An filed a civil lawsuit against West in 2024 under New York City's Gender-Motivated Violence Protection Act, which temporarily extends the statute of limitations for sexual assault survivors. West's lawyers moved to dismiss the case, arguing that First Amendment protections for artistic expression should shield him from liability. They also contended that because An did not explicitly object or attempt to leave, she was consenting to the performance.
An's attorney, Jesse Weinstein, pushed back against this framing. Allowing artists to "basically do whatever they want to, whomever they want in creative spaces, and get away with it as long as they call it art" would set a dangerous precedent, he told the podcast. The case has not yet gone to trial, but it raises a fundamental question about where the line between artistic freedom and physical assault should be drawn—and whether a person's silence in the moment, born from fear of professional consequences, can be read as consent.
Notable Quotes
All of a sudden he just reaches a hand out and starts choking me, and I'm just not sure what's happening. And then, he pulled his other hand out and starts choking me with both hands.— Jennifer An, describing the alleged assault to the BBC
It would be a really dangerous precedent to set for artists to feel they were allowed to basically do whatever they want to, whomever they want in creative spaces, and get away with it as long as they call it art.— Jesse Weinstein, An's attorney
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why didn't she stop him in the moment? It seems like she could have walked away.
She was 24, early in her career, and suddenly face-to-face with a major artist on set. She was afraid of losing the job. That's not weakness—that's the reality of power imbalance in those spaces.
But his lawyers say she was a willing participant in a performance. How do you answer that?
Consent requires communication. He never told her what he was going to do. He never asked. He just did it while cameras rolled and everyone watched. That's not a performance—that's an assault dressed up as one.
What changed between 2010 and now that made her come forward?
Time, mostly. She got distance from the industry, from the fear. And in 2024, she reached out to La Roux, the artist, and La Roux confirmed what happened—that he knew exactly what he was doing. That validation mattered.
The First Amendment argument—does that actually protect artists who physically touch people without permission?
That's what the court will have to decide. His lawyers are betting it does. But there's a difference between controversial art and using someone's body without consent. The question is whether the law sees that difference.
What does La Roux's response tell us?
That people on set knew something was wrong. La Roux apologized immediately. She remembered it 14 years later. And when An asked her not to air it, she agreed—because she understood An felt violated. You don't apologize for art that went well.
What happens if he wins on the First Amendment argument?
It sends a message that creative spaces are exempt from basic consent and safety rules. That artists can do things to people's bodies in the name of expression and face no consequences. That's what her lawyer means by a dangerous precedent.