In the early hours of 12 March, several Federal Security Service (FSB) officers arrived at the St. Petersburg home of artists Katrin Nenasheva and Natalya Chetverio and confiscated all their electronic devices. It was during her hours-long interrogation at the police station later the same day that Nenasheva learnt that she was a person of interest for prosecutors preparing treason charges against artist Pyotr Verzilov.
On the same day, another group of FSB officers, dressed in civilian clothes, arrived at the residence of activist Kristina Bubentsova, who also discovered that the search was related to the same case.
“Everything is fine now; we went outside and met Katrin [Nenasheva]. We discussed what happened. I was obligated to appear in court, if necessary, as a witness. I also signed the protocol,” Bubentsova told Novaya Europe.
Similar searches occurred in at least four other Russian cities. Police and FSB officers questioned numerous artists, conducted searches of their homes, and seized their electronic devices.
Collective action
Pyotr Verzilov, now 36, had an unusually international upbringing, having spent his childhood in Japan and Canada as well as in Moscow. At the age of 18, he enrolled to study philosophy at Moscow State University where he made various connections to Moscow’s intellectual and artistic circles, forming friendships with a number of poets, artists, and philosophers.
It was while at university that Verzilov met his future wife, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova. In 2007 the two of them were among those who founded the art collective Voina — Russian for war — whose stated mission was the creation of political street art.
One of Voina’s first performances took place at Moscow’s Timiryazev State Biological Museum, and involved several of the group’s members openly engaging in sexual acts in the museum, while others held up a sign protesting Putin’s plan to hand the presidency over to Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev for a term to circumnavigate the constitutional ban on him serving more than two terms, or, as Tolokonnikova later called it, the moment “the country was truly fucked”.