How a teenager held a street performance and became entangled in Russia’s oppressive history

In a forest on the outskirts of St Petersburg, a list of names is being recited.

Each name represents a victim of the Great Terror under Soviet leader Joseph Stalin.

In this region of Russia, countless names await recognition. Numerous lives to honor during Russia’s yearly Remembrance Day for Victims of Political Repression.

The Levashovo Wasteland is thought to hold at least 20,000 remains—potentially up to 45,000—those who were betrayed, executed, and buried in mass graves; individuals alongside entire families obliterated in the dictator’s purges of the 1930s.

Portraits of the deceased have been affixed to the bark of pine trees. Being here allows one to sense the echoes of Russia’s history.

Yet what about the current situation?

Present-day Russian officials speak less about Stalin’s atrocities against his own citizens, choosing instead to frame the dictator as a triumphant wartime leader.

Additionally, a series of draconian laws have been enacted in recent years aimed at stifling dissent and quelling criticism of the Kremlin and its military actions in Ukraine.

While Kremlin adversaries may not receive labels like “enemies of the people” as they did during Stalin’s era, they are increasingly identified as “foreign agents”.

Authorities argue that such labels are pivotal in safeguarding Russia from external dangers.

More than three and a half years have transpired since Russia’s comprehensive invasion of Ukraine, with Russian officials pursuing two primary goals: triumph overseas and uniformity at home.

Anyone who challenges, questions, or even subtly expresses doubt about the official narrative asserting Russia’s rightness in this conflict risks becoming a target.

At Leninsky District Courthouse, the stairwell near Courtroom 11 is overcrowded with reporters. There’s hardly any space to navigate.

I start a conversation with Irina. Her daughter Diana is en route here in a police vehicle for a court hearing.

“This must be terrifying for you,” I remark.

Irina nods in agreement.

“I never imagined anything like this could occur,” Irina whispers. “You can’t envision it. Until it happens to you.”

Shortly thereafter, 18-year-old Diana Loginova enters the building under the watch of three police officers. She embraces her mother and is led into the courtroom.

Diana has already served 13 days in detention for “organizing a mass public gathering of citizens leading to a disturbance of public order”.

However, the accusations keep piling up.

The “mass gathering” was an unplanned street concert which the authorities assert blocked pedestrian access to a Metro station.

Diana Loginova is a music student and performs as the lead singer for the band Stoptime, using the pseudonym Naoko.

On the avenues of St Petersburg, Stoptime performs songs by exiled Russian musicians like Noize MC and Monetochka, singer-songwriters who are vocally critical of the Kremlin and its actions in Ukraine.

Many of these notable artists, now abroad, have been officially labeled foreign agents by Russian officials.

Video clips circulating online demonstrate that Stoptime’s street performances have gained considerable attention, with numerous primarily young listeners singing along and dancing.

Although it is not illegal in Russia to perform songs by foreign agents, in May a Russian court prohibited Noize MC’s song “Swan Lake Cooperative,” asserting it contained “propaganda for altering the constitutional order through violence”.

Swan Lake is regarded by many as emblematic of political transformation in Russia.

During the USSR era, Soviet television frequently showcased the ballet after the demise of Soviet leaders, and it resurfaced on screens in 1991 during the unsuccessful coup attempt by communist hardliners. Lake (Ozero in Russian) is also the name of a dacha co-operative closely tied to President Putin’s inner circle.

A recent video of Stoptime performing the song gained great popularity on social media.

Diana Loginova was arrested on October 15. Authorities also took her boyfriend, guitarist Alexander Orlov, and drummer Vladislav Leontyev into custody.

The three band members received sentences ranging from 12 to 13 days in jail.

In Courtroom 11, Diana is confronting an added charge: discrediting the Russian military. This charge pertains to one of her songs: “You’re a Soldier” by (“foreign agent”) Monetochka.

“You’re a soldier,” initiates the refrain.

“And whatever war you are fighting,

“I’m sorry, I’ll be on the other side.”

Following a brief session, the judge finds Diana guilty of discrediting the Russian armed forces and imposes a 30,000 rouble (£285) fine on her.

Nevertheless, she is not allowed to leave. The police return Diana to the station for additional charges to be prepared.

The following day, she and her partner Alexander are brought to Smolninsky District Court. I manage to speak with them briefly before they enter the courtroom.

“I’m really grateful and it’s significant that people have been backing us, that many are on our side, on the side of truth,” Diana shares.

“I’m astonished by how things have been blown out of proportion. We’ve been accused of numerous things we never committed. All we aimed to do was share the music we love with a large audience. The power of music is incredibly vital. What is happening now demonstrates that.”

“I believe it’s not merely the lyrics; the music itself holds the utmost significance,” guitarist Alexander Orlov informs me. “Music conveys everything for individuals. It always has.”

Alexander reveals that he proposed to Diana while they were being transferred in a police van that stopped at a gas station.

“I fashioned a ring out of a tissue,” he tells me. “I was able to kneel down, and she accepted my proposal.”

“We hope to return home soon,” Diana expresses. “That’s our biggest dream now.”

However, they won’t be heading home just yet. At this latest court session, the judge orders Diana and Alexander back to jail for another 13 days for additional public order violations.

Civil society in Russia is facing extreme pressure. Yet backers of Diana Loginova and Stoptime are striving to raise their voices.

“I was on the street when Diana was singing, and people sang along so beautifully,” recounted Alla outside the court. “For me, it was essential to be here to support Diana and show her that some individuals genuinely care. This shouldn’t be occurring.”

To another supporter of Diana, I mention that in today’s Russia, showing solidarity for anyone accused of discrediting the Russian military demands a certain level of bravery.

“It’s individuals like Diana who are truly courageous,” Sasha remarked. “We are the cowards. Some individuals are heroes, while others simply follow in their wake.”

“Many people [in Russia] feel apprehensive,” Sasha adds. “But there are others who support the authorities and the ongoing situation. Unfortunately, I realize there are people like that among my friends. It was shocking to learn that some friends I’ve had for 40 years endorse what is happening. They’ve been watching Russian television for years. I haven’t.”

In Yekaterinburg, a city in the Urals, Yevgeny Mikhailov demonstrated his support through music. The street musician played songs advocating for Diana Loginova. He was detained and sentenced to 14 days in jail for “minor hooliganism”.

Despite the repression, young street musicians in St Petersburg continue to perform songs by artists labeled foreign agents by Russian authorities.

On a chilly autumn evening, crowds have gathered to listen to a teenage band outside a St Petersburg Metro station. Among their repertoire are tracks performed by “foreign agents” Noize MC and Morgenshtern.

Suddenly, law enforcement arrives. The performance comes to an abrupt halt.

I watch as three band members are escorted away in a police cruiser.

I visit another individual in St Petersburg charged with “discrediting” the military.

Ludmila Vasilyeva, 84, was born two months prior to Hitler’s invasion of the Soviet Union.

She endured the Nazi siege of Leningrad (the previous name for St Petersburg) and has carried the devastating effects of war with her throughout her life.

So, when Vladimir Putin ordered a large-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Ludmila was profoundly unsettled.

Earlier this year, on the third anniversary of Russia’s “special military operation”, Ludmila took to the streets to voice her anti-war sentiments.

“I wrote on my sign: ‘People! Let’s cease this war. We are responsible for peace on Planet Earth!'”

After her protest, Ludmila received a message from the police instructing her to visit the station.

“They accused me of discrediting our soldiers. How? By advocating for peace? I responded that everything I wished to convey was already clear on my sign and that I wouldn’t go to the station. They threatened to take me to court, and eventually, that’s what happened.”

Ludmila faced a fine of 10,000 roubles (£95) for “discrediting the Russian armed forces”.

She feels no remorse and seemingly, despite the intensifying repression around her, no fear.

“Why should I feel afraid?” Ludmila inquires. “Of what and whom should I be scared? I fear no one. I speak the truth. And they are aware of that.”

She perceives that climbing authoritarianism originates from those in power being apprehensive of the populace.

“People are apprehensive. However, [the authorities] are even more so. That’s why they are reinforcing their control.”

Ludmila Vasilyeva’s candor is atypical, not the norm. Currently, few Russians partake in public demonstrations. I ask Ludmila what accounts for this: is it fear, apathy, or support for the government?

“The majority are preoccupied with their daily lives, simply trying to survive,” Ludmila responds.

Yet she asserts that when she publicly shares her views, many people concur with her.

“When I go shopping, I frequently engage in conversations. No one has ever reported me or lodged a complaint about my remarks.

“Once, while I was expressing my thoughts at the post office, a man approached us. He leaned forward and said: ‘Just strangle her.’