The Russian invasion of Ukraine just over a year ago triggered an exodus from the country of Russian dissidents from literature and art, in an exodus that still continues, adding to the diaspora that already existed 'other anti-Putin intellectuals abroad. Berlin is a beloved destination, for its cosmopolitanism, its powerful cultural sector and its aura of freedom, even if it turns out to be expensive to live there, and that obtaining the humanitarian visa that Germany grants to Russians at risk of repression is not a quick procedure . In practice, those who already had a previous link with the city (professional contacts, housing or friends) can get ahead in Berlin, as is the case, among others, of the writers Liudmila Ulítskaia, Vladimir Sorokin or Maria Stepànova, and of the protagonists of this report.
“I don't think my choice to leave Russia is the only choice or the right choice; I know people who have stayed there, publish books, hold conferences and maintain small spaces of freedom. I didn't have the courage to do it, so there's no reason to be proud of it. The police came to my apartment in Moscow almost every day; I left to be out of danger", sums up Anna Narínskaia, playwright and literary critic, at the entrance to the Gorki theater, where in December she premiered the play The last word, about the last words spoken in court by Russian women activists
"What has happened in Russia is my own failure and that of other intellectuals; Putin's actions are not our fault, of course, but the social support for this war is. We must not deceive ourselves, he has the support of many people - continues Narínskaia. We intellectuals in Moscow organized demonstrations and talks, we lived well, we were better paid than the average Russian citizen. And we were delighted with ourselves: an exhibition about Stalin's repression, how important... But we preached to people already convinced, we were short-sighted in our actions. Now I look back and feel disappointment and guilt."
The horror of a war started by their country haunts the exiled creators, who try to respond to it with their own language. “Many people say that Russian voices should now be kept silent, that they should not be present; maybe I can understand it from the emotional point of view, but politically it's a big mistake", says Dmitri Vilenski, a member with his wife, Olga Iegorova, of the artist collective Xto Diélat (translation: What should be done?), who combines political theory, art and activism. They had to leave St. Petersburg with their daughter, because the police showed up at their art school and they are the subject of a criminal case. Both had marked themselves as dissidents since 2014, when the war in the Donbass instigated by Putin began.
In Berlin they resume their emergency school model – which will soon lead to workshops in Stockholm and Hamburg – a format of dialogues on topics chosen by a host, from the war in Ukraine to climate change, which they record and document . "This is not the time to hold exhibitions or celebrate events, but for this type of reflective work. What art should be created in this situation? And if art must continue to be there, what kind of art and aimed at whom? There are many questions; in the workshops we don't teach, we debate", explains Yegorova next to Vilenski in his studio in Berlin's Mitte district.
She remains hopeful that she will be able to return to Russia and influence a regeneration. “Historically, Russian artists, poets and writers had a strong sense of mission, of sharing their ideas with people; it was a traditional thing that gradually disappeared and lost importance. Now, with the war, it is again important to maintain a mission", he argues. And Vilenski intervenes: "But the mission must be defined; if we talk about a new democratic development, then a political force is needed, it cannot be done only from culture".
"The Russians in exile do not trust the political opposition; maybe Aleksei Navalni, but after he recovered from his poisoning he chose to return to Russia to face Putin in an almost religious sacrifice so that maybe something will change, but politics doesn't work like that," remembers Yegorova.
For Russian intellectuals and artists with a history of rejecting Putin, who have condemned the aggressions in Ukraine since 2014, the break with Ukrainian friends and colleagues as a result of the slaughter and destruction perpetrated by their compatriots is painful company. "Everything has been poisoned between us. In the first days of the war I wrote a message to some friends in Kharkiv, famous designers, and they told me never to write to them again. Although there are exceptions, I do not see the possibility of joint cultural projects between Russians and Ukrainians in the near future", laments Anna Narínskaia.
Artists Yegorova and Vilenski agree that for obvious reasons it is very difficult, almost impossible, for Russians and Ukrainians to launch initiatives together. “Furthermore, for the Russians there is now a great collapse of meaning; the cancellation of Russian culture seen as imperialist was already being discussed, but now it has come to the fore - Vilenski points out -. It's hard for us, because we always believed that we could do something on an international scale and bring it to Russia. And now we can't even go back to Saint Petersburg."
