Theater of Anti-War: How Russia failed to conquer the stage for pro-war propaganda

In 2024, Russian theater director Evgeniya (Zhenya) Berkovich, playwright Svetlana Petriychuk, and former Moscow Department of Culture head Alexander Kibovsky all found themselves in prison. Kibovskyfaces charges typical for a government official: bribery in connection with state procurement of furniture. The case against Berkovich and Petriychuk, however, is unprecedented. It is the first time in Russian theater history that a director and playwright have been prosecuted for their work — in this case, for the play Finist, the Brave Falcon.

The play, which does not promote terrorism, depicts the methods ISIS recruiters use to target Russian women; its authors were thus accused of promoting terrorism. Finist, the Brave Falcon won two Golden Mask awards in 2022 — for best playwright and best costumes. In 2024, the 2nd Western Military Court of Moscow sentenced Svetlana and Zhenya to six years in a general-regime colony.

Kibovsky, by contrast, expressed a willingness to travel back to the zone of the “special military operation” (SMO) — a place he previously visited in his role as advisor to the Moscow mayor on cultural cooperation with the “new territories.”

Dismissals and resignations of anti-war figures

Immediately after the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a major reshuffling began in Moscow’s theater world. Some luminaries resigned on their own, while others were removed from their positions by higher authorities. Some simply disappeared, and others openly declared that they would not return. Theaters were merged (such as the Meyerhold Centre and the School of Dramatic Art), decapitated, or simply liquidated as brands and troupes — as happened with the Gogol Center following the dismissal of artistic director Alexei Agranovich. With the appointment of new artistic director Anton Yakovlev, the former Gogol Center venue on Kazakov Street was rebranded as the Gogol Theatre, a return to the name it bore before Kirill Serebrennikov's arrival in 2013.

And in a rather unique case, the artistic director of the Vakhtangov Theatre, Rimas Tuminas, was dismissed after a prank in which he allegedly agreed to stage a play about Stepan Bandera, a WWII-era Ukrainian nationalist leader who remains a bogeyman of Kremlin propaganda to this day.

The foundation for the unfolding repressions was a letter from Russian cultural figures opposing the war, a text that appeared in the first days after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Both the Moscow Department of Culture and the federal Ministry of Culture began taking action against figures on the list of signatories.

The list included, among others, the name of Evgeny Mironov, artistic director of the Theatre of Nations. He was dealt with “lightly” — compelled to travel to the devastated Mariupol, visit actors of the Donetsk Drama Theatre, and to mark International Children’s Day in the occupied city by putting on the play “Beware of Elves.”

“I saw the terrible condition the theater building was in, but after talking with the actors and directors, I realized that they really want to work. Their eyes are burning with enthusiasm. Since they are my colleagues, of course, I must think about how to help them,” Mironov told Russian state media outlet RIA Novosti. While recounting the details of his trip, Mironov naturally did not mention that the theater had been reduced to ruins by a Russian bombing run that buried hundreds of civilians, including children, who had taken shelter in its basement.

But reprisals were not always so direct. Another signatory, Bolshoi Theater director Vladimir Urin, was quietly removed from his position after his contract expired one year and nine months after the war began.

In other cases, directors and playwrights who opposed the war were simply erased from playbills. The names of Kirill Serebrennikov, Dmitry Krymov, Alexander Molochnikov, and Boris Akunin disappeared. The Satirikon Theatre removed the name of Mikhail Durnenkov, the playwright of the anti-war play “R,” from its website. The play itself, however, remained in the repertoire.

In the early days of the war, the hit production “Iranian Conference” by Ivan Vyrypaev was canceled by the Theater of Nations, and his plays “Drunks,” “Illusions,” and “Sun Line” vanished from venues across the country. This was due to Vyrypaev, who lives in Poland, publicly declaring in the early days of the war that all his royalties would be donated to organizations working to help Ukraine.

The Russian Ministry of Culture explained its position in 2022: “The cultural figures who, in this difficult time, left the country, renounced Russia, and publicly opposed its rich culture, are logically being removed from our institutions and their posters one by one.”

The press service added that the Ministry receives “a large number of complaints from citizens outraged by the presence of such figures in the informational and promotional materials of state institutions.” It claimed that, “This demand comes primarily from society, and we cannot and should not ignore it.”

State-mandated spirituality on stage

Shortly before the start of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Russia’s Likhachev Institute was commissioned by the country’s Security Council to develop a “strategy for the protection of spiritual and moral values.” In November 2022, the strategy took the form of Presidential Decree No. 809 — “On the Approval of the Fundamentals of State Policy for the Preservation and Strengthening of Traditional Russian Spiritual and Moral Values.” The decree was then passed to the government, and the Ministry of Culture sent it to the institutions under its jurisdiction.

State theaters received the decree, along with a table of “values.” These included “life, dignity, human rights and freedoms, patriotism, citizenship, service to the Fatherland and responsibility for its fate, high moral ideals, a strong family, creative labor, the priority of the spiritual over the material, humanism, compassion, justice, collectivism, mutual assistance and respect, historical memory and continuity of generations, and the unity of the peoples of Russia.”

Theaters were required to fill out the table, listing past and upcoming premieres that aligned with one or another of these “values” (or which were made to fit them). Although the letter stated that the table was sent for purposes of “data collection,” compliance with these values was implied as the new state mandate for theaters — no small matter, given that their budgetary funding depends on state patronage. “The Russian government wants to change the goal-setting of the state mandate and shift from quantitative to qualitative indicators,” the document's authors clarified.

Promotions as a reward for loyalty

In June 2024, the successor to the arrested Kibovsky as head of Moscow’s Department of Culture, Alexei Fursin, consolidated the Tabakov Theater and the Sovremennik Theater under the leadership of one of the country’s most fervent pro-government actors, Vladimir Mashkov.

Since the beginning of the war, Mashkov has worked hard to present himself as a sincere and passionate supporter of Putin and his war in Ukraine. As early as spring 2022, Mashkov hung a large Z-shaped letter in the colors of the St. George ribbon on the building of the Tabakov Theatre on the Garden Ring. In addition to such unmistakable demonstrations, Mashkov actively participated in Putin's rallies, seemingly missing none. But while Mashkov has not yet initiated significant changes at Sovremennik, the story is very different at other theaters that have come under new leadership.

The Viktyuk Theatre went to the once liberally inclined director Konstantin Bogomolov, who since has also headed the Theatre on Malaya Bronnaya. Bogomolov has evolved from a tribune of the anti-Putin Bolotnaya Square protests in 2011 and the creator of critically acclaimed productions at the Moscow Art Theatre (“An Ideal Husband,” “The Karamazovs,” “The Three Musketeers,” “The Jeweler's Jubilee”) to being an unabashed collaborator with the Putin regime, staging plays that ridicule Russia’s political opposition and “relocants” (via Maksim Gorky's “The Summer People” at the Theatre on Malaya Bronnaya).

Unlike Mashkov, Bogomolov took a radical approach to the reorganization of the institution under his control — he renamed the theater, founded in 1996 by the Ukrainian director Roman Viktyuk, as “The Melnikov Stage.” He removed the founder's portraits and, along with them, most of the theater's hits — “The Maids” (Bogomolov claimed the 35-year-old Viktyuk hit had reached “the age of dementia”), “The Lackey Games” (he criticized the quality of the underlying literary text), and “Phaedra” (which he promised to reinstate, albeit while expressing dissatisfaction with the physical form of the half-naked actors in the crowd scenes).

Who Needed the “Golden Mask”?

As a result of this series of appointments, Vladimir Mashkov has ended up holding four leadership positions simultaneously, those of the Tabakov Theatre, its associated acting college, the Sovremennik Theatre, and the Union of Theatrical Figures (STD). The latter is arguably the most significant.

Since 2001, the Union of Theatrical Figures had been headed by Alexander Kalyagin, who skillfully balanced moderate loyalty with the protection of professional interests. For instance, in 2015, he and the Union defended those involved in the “Tannhäuser case,” and in 2017, he spoke out in defense of Kirill Serebrennikov, who was accused of fraud based on trumped up charges. In early 2022, Kalyagin even criticized the “Strategy for the Protection of Spiritual and Moral Values,” developed within the Security Council.

Shortly before his resignation, Kalyagin wrote a letter to Anton Vaino, the head of Russia’s Presidential Administration, in which he revealed that the head of the Public Projects Directorate, Sergey Novikov, had demanded Kalyagin that he step down, threatening him with a criminal case if he refused. If Kalyagin agreed, however, he was promised a state award and continued funding for the Golden Mask festival and award. Vaino did not respond to the letter, and on December 4, 2023, Vladimir Mashkov was elected chairman of the Union of Theatrical Figures in an uncontested vote.

Throughout its existence, the Union of Theatrical Figures (STD) has remained an active creative union, with its programs generously funded by the state. However, the goal of this leadership change was not so much to control the financial flows as to gain control over the main “subordinate institution” of the STD — the Golden Mask festival and award.

Established in 1995 by the STD and the Ministry of Culture, this theatrical award expanded in the 2000s under the leadership of Eduard Boyakov in the 2000s into a festival that brought nominated performances from across Russia to key venues in Moscow. In 2004, Maria Revyakina (formerly the director of the Novosibirsk Globe Theater and, until January 2023, the Moscow Theater of Nations) replaced Boyakov as the director. Under her leadership, the Golden Mask transformed into a true theatrical institution, gaining additional programs for non-mainstream performances, providing educational programs for audiences, developing a large children's lineup, creating showcases for producers and foreign festival selectors, and establishing several extensive touring programs in the CIS countries, the Baltic states, Israel, and later, major projects in regions across Russia.

The Golden Mask enjoyed immense prestige within the theatrical community. Theater scholars and practitioners alike highly valued the work of the annually updated Expert Council. Critics and curators traveled across the country in search of talented nominees. The Council was respected for its independence and complete lack of nepotism in the selection process: no matter the sympathies of the Golden Mask leadership, it never interfered with the jury's work. It did not intervene even when the jury decided in April 2022 to award the production “Finist, the Brave Falcon” with two prizes.

But changes had already begun under Kalyagin's leadership of STD. On August 28, 2023, the Union severed its ties with the non-profit organization Golden Mask, which had handled all organizational aspects, and brought the award directly under the STD’s control. A notable consequence of the move was the relocation of the Golden Mask website to the Union of Theatrical Figures' server, resulting in the loss of a vast media archive of past festivals and programs. The new director of the award and festival, replacing the experienced Revyakina, was the relatively unknown Vladimir Misharin, who previously managed the Winter Theater in Sochi.

A reform of the Golden Mask has been announced that will see several categories eliminated, including Best Director, Best Small-Form Performance, Best Lighting Design, and “Experimental.” The entire “Contemporary Dance” section is also set to be cut.

Playwright Mikhail Durnenkov believes that the award has already lost its prominence in the theatrical world due to these changes. “Everything is very quiet now. It feels like new people were put in place just to dismantle [the STD and the Golden Mask],” he says. “Maybe they’re struggling to define what the new STD or the new Golden Mask will stand for. They seem scared to create something more vibrant and authentic under the kleptocratic Putin regime. The fact that they might have been allowed to shape something is causing them anxiety and panic. Are we really allowed? For sure? And if so, what about?”

“Z” and the SMO — on stage, and in real life

Across the country, theaters have started following Mashkov's example by placing Z-symbolism on the facades of their buildings. In response, director Nikita Betekhtin began compiling a list of such theaters, so that opposition-minded and anti-war theater professionals could avoid working with them. As a result, Betekhtin had to leave Russia rather quickly.

However, the facade is one thing, the content is another. Moscow theaters are in no hurry to glorify the war from the comforts of the capital, nor to go on tour themselves in the combat zones. And yet for many theaters, such trips could serve as a protective amulet. “Our theater is left alone for one simple reason: at some point, we were merged with another small theater that literally does not leave the frontline zone. So we are left alone and not forced to stage anything about the 'heroes of the Special Military Operation,'“ says an employee of one of the capital's theaters.

Z-themed productions in Moscow theaters — and in the more notable theaters elsewhere in the country — can be counted on one hand, says critic and curator Natalia (name changed), who works at one of Moscow's theatrical institutions. Among such productions, she mentions “Unsent Letters” —a production by popular blogger Manucci (Vyacheslav Manucharov) based on a novel by Oleg Roy. Its premiere, courtesy of the Mossovet Theater, took place on August 20 as part of the Moscow Urban Forum.

In addition, director Anna Babanova staged a play based on Zakhar Prilepin's “Militia Romance” at the Norilsk Polar Drama Theater. Prilepin, who spent significant time in the Russian-occupied Donbas before 2022, has been an outspoken supporter of both Putin and the Kremlin’s war in Ukraine. According to Natalia, another SMO-themed production is planned by Polina Agureeva, an actress and director of the Fomenko Workshop. Over time, such plays may become more common, especially in regional theaters.

According to Durnenkov, the Z-theater movement in Russian art has yet to materialize, and neither Z-literature nor other noteworthy artistic forms have emerged. In his view, if such a movement does exist, it is merely “at the level of literary evenings set against painted backdrops:”

“The problem is that this Z-idea has already failed many times. It has no internal content. It is entirely built on the denial of certain 'alien values,' offering in return 'traditions' and 'sobornost,' the meaning of which the authors of, for example, the 'Strategy for the Protection of Spiritual and Moral Values' themselves do not really understand. Meanwhile, the 'enemies of the Putin regime' advocate for the values of individual freedom, peace, and critical thinking, which are hard to deny in a sound mind.”

However, critic and curator Natalia sees the reason for the unpopularity of pro-war theater differently. “Z-theater will not be successful and will go nowhere for a very simple reason: the audience doesn't need it at all,” says the critic. “The audience comes to the theater to relax, not to be plunged back into the stream of blood and death they already hear about in the news.”

Adapting plays and literature about the Great Patriotic War to the context of the “Special Military Operation” is also a doomed endeavor. “We have such great literature and drama about World War II that any attempts to stretch it onto the current context will look absolutely pathetic, and the audience will immediately see through it,” Natalia believes.

Those who left and those who were convicted

A full-fledged theatrical diaspora has already formed from the Russian stage professionals who fled abroad since Feb. 2022. The wave of departures in the early days of the war began with the chief director of the Vakhtangov Theater, Yuri Butusov, who went to Paris for a production and stayed there, and Dmitry Krymov, who left for the United States. Soon they were joined by actress Chulpan Khamatova, who moved to Latvia at the invitation of director Alvis Hermanis. Director Maxim Didenko returned to his Berlin apartment, playwright Mikhail Durnenkov and artist Ksenia Peretrukhina moved to Finland, director Alexander Molochnikov went to study in the United States and stayed there, while actor Anatoly Bely repatriated to Israel. The full list is much longer.

One of the hubs of this theatrical diaspora emerged in Israel, where Rimas Tuminas relocated after being dismissed from the Vakhtangov Theater. Though Tuminas passed away in Italy in March of this year, he managed to direct a major production of “Anna Karenina” at the Gesher Theater in Tel Aviv, as well as the play “Don't Look Back.” Anatoly Bely appeared as a guest artist in the latter. Between his engagements at Gesher, Bely collaborated with young director Egor Trukhin on the play “I Am Here,” which was based on anti-war poetry by Alia Khaytlina, Zhenya Berkovich, Vera Polozkova, and others.

Berlin became another significant hub, where local figures Maxim Didenko and Kirill Serebrennikov, along with some artists from the Gogol Center, relocated. Didenko, in collaboration with actress Alisa Khazanova, created the production “The Last Word” based on the monologues of political prisoners. He then directed “Cremulator,” adapted from a book by Sasha Filipenko, with Maxim Sukhanov in the lead role. Didenko later went to London, where he collaborated with the Gesher Theater to produce “Salome,” based on Oscar Wilde's work.

Pro-Kremlin publications reported on Chulpan Khamatova's perceived failures in Latvia, specifically citing two productions by Alvis Hermanis, the artistic director of the New Riga Theater: “Post Scriptum” and “The Country of the Deaf” (adapted from a screenplay by Renata Litvinova for the film of the same name by Valery Todorovsky).

Outside of Russia, playwrights Polina Borodina, Asya Voloshina (who has been working under the pseudonym Esther Bol since the beginning of the war), and Evgeny Kazachkov are active. Since the start of the war, the Russian drama festival “Lyubimovka,” which introduced them to the Russian stage, has also been held abroad. This festival is the oldest in Russia: founded in 1990 by playwrights from Viktor Slavkin's circle, it remained a horizontal community of volunteers throughout its existence, never becoming a serious institution, but also never succumbing to the temptation of big money.

Each year, several dozen volunteers would raise funds, select plays in Russian, and conduct readings. Initially held at the Stanislavsky estate, the festival moved to Moscow in the 2000s, where it was last held in 2022 — secretly, as some participants were already being persecuted at that time. Afterward, it dispersed as an “echo” across the world. In fact, the “Echo of Lyubimovka“ festival has already been held in Almaty, Tbilisi, Yerevan, Paris, Berlin, Munich, Tel Aviv, and Granada. The community plans to host more such “echoes” in different cities around the world.

In Russia, Durnenkov believes, this festival's place will remain vacant for a long time, if not forever.

“The very idea of modern plays is quite toxic [in Russia]. Writing and staging contemporary texts, as we see from the example of Berkovich and Petriychuk, is simply dangerous — who knows, it might be declared terrorism propaganda tomorrow. Who wants to take that risk? And why? Take Shakespeare for a production — most likely, you won't end up in prison for him.” Incidentally, Lyubimovka activists also organized readings of Petriychuk's play “Finist, the Brave Falcon” in many cities to draw attention to the injustice of the sentence against its author and director.

Those who returned and those who stayed

However, not all those who went abroad found success. According to Durnenkov, only two types of artists are able to make it abroad. One is those who earned a reputation in European and global theater before the war and now continue to work there, simply changing their place of residence. As for the other category: “younger ones have managed to integrate into the global grant system and have been able to start anew in Europe. But even they should not be overly optimistic — it’s hard to leap from the grant project paddling pool into official European art.”

Many of those who moved abroad have not been able to find their place in a new theatrical environment. Such directors and actors either periodically return to Russia “on business trips” to earn money, or have already moved back home and are again working in Russia.

After moving to Berlin, actor and director Alexander Gorchilin returned to Moscow, where he staged the performance “Mayakovsky. Mystery” at the Zotov Center and then directed the children's play “No Name or Bim in Search of Bo,” based on the play by Lyubov Strizhak. Director and artist Savva Savelyev, who splits his time between several countries, staged the play “Petushki,” based on the classic poem by Venedikt Erofeev, in a small private theater called The Inside Space. “In my observations, only those who have real reasons to fear for their lives and freedom upon returning stay in Europe without leaving,” says Durnenkov.

In Russia, two and a half years after the start of the war, there are very few prominent directors, actors, and playwrights left, leading to a rotation of the creative elite, if such a term can even be applied to those who have replaced the departed.

“The top-tier players have left or were dismissed, and they've been replaced by second- and third-tier ones,” shares a playwright. “It's the era of mediocrities,” continues the critic and curator Natalia. “These are directors who avoid commenting on contemporary issues, preferring to stage plays about 'eternal' themes, 'God,' and 'humanity.' You know, those 'warm' plays about nothing, from which the audience is supposed to feel better.”

Continuing the analogy, the interviewee refers to these artists as “the new warm ones” — analogous to “the new quiet ones,” a term coined by Sergei Nikolaevich, a journalist for Snob magazine, to describe the remaining creatives in Russia — a group not inclined towards patriotic rhetoric, but which fears openly opposing state ideology.

However, unlike the “new quiet ones,” the “new warm ones” are full of hope and feel that their time has come. Among others, the interviewee includes in this category students of Sergey Zhenovach, the creator of the “Theatrical Art Studio.” His protoges include such directors as Sergey Tonyshev and Philip Gurevich. Zhenovach himself has been criticized for conformism, for example, for agreeing to chair the jury of the revamped Golden Mask.

Nevertheless, Natalia continues, it is not accurate to say that all of those who remain in Russia have fallen into the category of the “new warm ones.” For example, “there are directors like Liza Bondar, Boris Pavlovich, Anton Fyodorov, and Pyotr Shereshevsky, who dare to speak out, or rather, can't stage plays that are 'about nothing and everything,'” she says. “Even in their productions of classical works, they strive to address contemporary issues: the current war, the fate of the youth, and the generational conflict unfolding before our eyes, which has turned bloody.”

At the same time, experts agree that there will be no exchange of ideas between the emerging Russian theater abroad and the creatives remaining in Russia. “I'm afraid that the paths of the Russian theater abroad and the current Russian theater have completely diverged,” says Durnenkov. “The 'new warm ones' will erect the Iron Curtain themselves, without any state involvement,” adds Natalia. “They don't need as competitors the principled, talented, conscientious people who left — after all, the 'warm ones' have taken their places.”

From the general to the specific

It would be incorrect to say that the new Russian theater, which had been developing since the late 1990s, was completely destroyed by wartime repressions. Against the backdrop of the dismantling of state theaters, non-state theaters are coming to the forefront — not commercial enterprises aimed at making a profit, but non-profit ones.

Their growing role is evidenced by the fact that Berkowitz's “Finist” — which has become, intentionally or not, the most significant event in modern Russian theater history — was staged by the small theater company Daughters of Soso, founded by Berkowitz along with her friends and colleagues.

The company continues its work. The plays “The Rice Dog” (based on the poems of Fyodor Svarovsky), “Our Treasure” (a Christmas tale based on Berkowitz's poems), and “Counting Rhyme” (a production about life in Georgia after the war with Russia, based on Tamta Melashvili's play) are still being performed on the stage of the small Space Within venue.

This small venue was created by architect Oleg Karlson. It produces its own plays (such as Vladimir Mirzoev's “I Killed the Tsar”) and provides a stage for other independent companies with a similar spirit.

Hidden in a courtyard behind the former Gogol Center, Space Within serves as a kind of outpost of independent nonprofit theater against the backdrop of the Russian state theater landscape. It is supported by its roots: before its opening, Karlson was an activist of Teatr.doc — a pioneer of the Russian independent scene that suffered greatly for its political and social stance.

In fact, Space Within emerged in 2021 when Doc was undergoing yet another relocation due to yet another raid by security forces following yet another denunciation by public figures.

“Independent theater is not dead in Russia,” reflects Durnenkov, “its capillary system has been preserved, as has horizontal interaction. I believe that an important signaling system is still functioning — from state theaters to independent ones. As long as substantive creators like Andrey Moguchiy are doing something at BDT, Mironov at the Theater of Nations, Raikin at Satyricon, Pisarev at the Pushkin Theater — independent directors still feel that it's possible. A wise person once said: 'You can do a lot in Russia if you don't ask permission.' No terror, no 'theater cases' can force those who want to do theater to stop working.”