How a teenager gave a street concert and was drawn into Russia’s repressive past

In a forest on the outskirts of St. Petersburg, they read a list of names.

Each name is a victim of Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin’s Great Terror.

There are thousands of names to read in this part of Russia. Thousands of lives to remember on Russia’s annual day of remembrance for victims of political repression.

It is believed that at least 20,000 people – possibly as many as 45,000 – were buried in the Levashovo wasteland, who were exposed, shot and dumped in mass graves; individuals as well as entire families destroyed in the dictator’s purges in the 1930s.

Portraits of the executed are nailed to the trunks of the pine trees. Standing here you can feel the ghosts of Russia’s past.

But what about the present?

Today, Russian authorities talk less about Stalin’s crimes against his own people, preferring to portray the dictator as the victor of the war.

What’s more, a series of repressive laws have been passed here in recent years to punish dissent and silence criticism of the Kremlin and Russia’s war in Ukraine.

Critics of the Kremlin may not be branded as “enemies of the people” as they were under Stalin. But increasingly they are being labeled as “foreign agents”.

Authorities say the labeling helps protect Russia from external threats.

More than three and a half years after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Russian authorities have two primary goals: victory abroad and compliance at home.

Anyone here who publicly challenges, questions, or even hints at doubting the official narrative that Russia is right in this war risks being targeted.

At the Leninsky district court, the staircase in front of courtroom 11 is full of journalists. There is barely room to move.

I’m talking to Irina. Her daughter Diana is traveling here in a police car for a court appearance.

“That must be scary for you,” I say.

Irina’s head.

“I never thought something like this could happen,” Irina says quietly. “You can’t imagine it. Until it happens to you.”

Minutes later, 18-year-old Diana Loginova arrived in the building, guarded by three policemen. She hugs her mother and is taken to court.

Diana has already spent 13 days in prison for “organizing a mass gathering of citizens that led to a violation of public order.”

But the accusations persist.

The “mass gathering” was an impromptu street concert that authorities said was blocking pedestrian access to a subway station.

Diana Loginova is a music student and under the name Naoko is the vocalist of the band Stoptime.

On the streets of St. Petersburg, Stoptime performs songs from Russian artists in exile such as Noize MC and Monetochka, singer-songwriters who fiercely criticize the Kremlin and Russia’s war in Ukraine.

Many of these prominent musicians, now abroad, have been officially designated as foreign agents by the Russian authorities.

Videos posted online show that Stoptime’s street concerts draw quite a crowd, with dozens of mostly young people singing along and dancing to the music.

While it is not illegal in Russia to sing or play songs by foreign agents, in May a Russian court banned Noize MC Swan Lake Cooperative’s song, claiming it contained “propaganda for violently changing the constitutional order.”

Swan Lake is considered by many to be a symbol of political change in Russia.

In the USSR, Soviet television often showed the ballet after the death of Soviet leaders, and it returned to Soviet television screens in 1991 during a failed coup by communist hardliners. Lake (Lake in Russian) is also the name of a dacha cooperative widely associated with President Putin’s inner circle.

A video clip of Stoptime performing the song recently went viral on social media.

Diana Loginova was detained on October 15. Police also arrested her boyfriend, guitarist Alexander Orlov, and drummer Vladislav Leontiev.

The three gang members were sentenced to between 12 and 13 days behind bars.

In courtroom 11, Diana faces an additional charge: discrediting the Russian armed forces. Refers to one of the songs she sang: You’re a Soldier by (“foreign agent”) Monetochka.

“you are a soldier” begins the chorus.

“And whatever war you wage,

“Sorry, I’ll be on the other side.”

After a short hearing, the judge found Diana guilty of defaming the Russian army and fined her 30,000 rubles (£285).

But she is not free to go. The police take Diana back to the police station and prepare new charges.

The next day, she and her boyfriend Alexander were taken to the Smolinsky District Court. I manage to talk to them before they enter the courtroom.

“I’m very happy and it’s important that people support us, that many people are on our side, on the side of truth,” Diana tells me.

“I’m surprised at how things have been exaggerated. We’ve been accused of a lot of things we haven’t done. All we’ve been doing is bringing the music we like to the masses. The power of music is very important. What’s happening now proves that.”

“I think it’s not the words, but the music that’s most important,” guitarist Alexander Orlov tells me. “Music says everything about people. It always does.”

Alexander reveals that he proposed to Diana when the police van they were being transported in stopped at a gas station.

“I made a ring out of a handkerchief,” he tells me. “I had time to get down on one knee and she said yes.

“We hope to return home soon,” says Diana. “That’s what we dream about the most.”

They won’t come home yet. At the final court hearing, the judge sent Diana and Alexander back to jail for another 13 days for more public order offences.

Civil society in Russia is under intense pressure. And yet the supporters of Diana Loginova and Stoptime are trying to make their voices heard.

“I was on the street when Diana was singing and people were singing so beautifully,” Alla says outside the courthouse. “It was important for me to be here to support Diana and show her that some people care. This shouldn’t happen.”

To another of Diana’s supporters, I suggest that now in Russia, showing solidarity with anyone accused of discrediting the Russian military requires a degree of courage.

“People like Diana are the brave ones,” says Sasha. “We are cowards. Some people are heroes. Others just follow us.”

“Some people (in Russia) are scared,” Sasha continues. “But others here really support the authorities and what’s happening. Unfortunately, I know such people. It was like a blow when I found out that people I’ve been friends with for 40 years support what’s happening. They’ve been watching Russian TV for years, I haven’t.”

In the Ural city of Ekaterinburg, Yevgeny Mihailov expressed his solidarity through music. The street musician performed songs in support of Diana Loginova. He was arrested and jailed for 14 days for “petty disorder”.

Despite the crackdown, young street musicians in St. Petersburg continue to perform music by artists designated as foreign agents by Russian authorities.

It’s a cool autumn evening. But passers-by stop to listen to a teenage band outside a metro station in St. Petersburg. Among the songs they perform are compositions by “foreign agents” Noize MC and Morgenshtern.

Suddenly the police show up. The concert is over.

I watch as three members of the group are taken away in a police car.

I’m going to meet someone else in St. Petersburg accused of “discrediting”.

84-year-old Lyudmila Vasilieva was born two months before Hitler invaded the Soviet Union.

She survived the Nazi siege of Leningrad (then the name of St. Petersburg) and carried with her throughout her life how devastating war can be.

So when Vladimir Putin ordered a massive invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Lyudmila was deeply shocked.

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

“I wrote on my poster: ‘People! Let’s stop the war. We have a responsibility for the peace of planet Earth!’

After her personal protest, Lyudmila received a letter from the police instructing her to report to the police station.

“They told me I had discredited our soldiers. How? By calling for peace? I let them know that everything I wanted to say I had already made quite clear on my placard and that I would not come down to the station. They threatened to take me to court. And in the end they did.”

Ludmila was fined 10,000 rubles (£95) for “discrediting the Russian armed forces”.

She has no regrets and seems, despite the growing repression around her, to have no fear.

“Why should I be afraid?” Ludmila asks me. “What and whom should I fear? I fear no one. I speak the truth. And they know it.”

She believes that growing authoritarianism stems from the rulers’ fear of society.

“People are scared. But (authorities) are more scared. That’s why they’re tightening the screws.”

Lyudmila Vasilieva’s frankness is the exception, not the rule. Today, few Russians engage in public protest. I ask Lyudmila why this is so: is it fear, indifference or because of the support of the authorities?

“Most people are focused on their own lives, on just surviving,” Ludmila replies.

But she claims that when she speaks her mind in public, many people agree with her.

“When I go shopping, I always strike up a conversation. No one has ever snuck up on me or complained about me.

“One time I was talking to myself in the post office. Someone turned to me and said, ‘Quiet, quieter.’ I replied, “Why should I be silent? Is not what I say the truth? The truth must be spoken aloud.”

Not everyone agrees.

“As I was standing with my placard talking to a police officer, a man in his 50s came up to us. He leaned forward and said, ‘Just strangle her.’