An artist traces her choices under Putin's Russia – from resistance to retreat to exile – one mural at a time

Yahoo

18-03-2025

Victoria Lomasko, a graphic artist and muralist, has spent her career documenting how authoritarianism took hold in Vladimir Putin's Russia. What she has illustrated – as well as the personal journey she has taken – affords a chance to see how dictatorship can develop and strengthen across a decade.
In 2019, I invited Lomasko – who goes by Vika for short – to Miami University, where I teach Imperial Russian and Soviet history. The Havighurst Center for East European, Russian and Eurasian Studies was holding a semester-long series on 'Truth and Power' that also included two other Russian dissidents: Leonid Volkov, then chief of staff for opposition leader Alexei Navalny; and Mikhail Zygar, who helped found the independent news station TV Rain in 2010.
I asked Lomasko to paint a mural illustrating the consequences of telling the truth in Putin's Russia – a theme she has explored in all her works. Her completed mural, 'Atlases,' depicted the struggle individuals face between desires to protest or to turn inward under authoritarianism.
Lomasko first gained acclaim for 'Other Russias,' which was published in English in 2017. The book is a collection of what she terms 'graphic reportage': comic-style art combined with current events.
In it, she covered Russians who are largely invisible: activists, sex workers, truckers, older people, provincial residents, migrants and minorities. She wanted to represent them as 'heroes' in their own lives, giving them agency and visibility.
Her heroes came into the public spotlight in 2011 and 2012, when mass protests began in Russia after fraudulent elections and Putin's return to the presidency. Lomasko attended the protests and sketched the participants. The rallies of 2012 seemed to signify that Russian citizens from a wide range of backgrounds could unite to resist creeping authoritarianism.
In addition to publishing her drawings, Lomasko also exhibited her work in Moscow and St. Petersburg – a seeming sign that censorship could not prevent an artist or ordinary citizen from voicing their frustration.
This hope did not last long. Over the next few years, the Kremlin passed a series of laws that designated organizations, then media outlets and eventually individuals as 'foreign agents' if they received any funding from abroad.
Led by then Minister of Culture Vladimir Medinsky, who was appointed by Putin in 2012, the Russian state also began to demand 'patriotic' culture supporting the government, and label anyone who resisted as 'unpatriotic.'
In these years, Lomasko documented how protests shrunk to local levels – truckers who decried a new tax, Muscovites who lamented the destruction of local parks, and urban activists who protested plans to tear down Soviet-era apartments. She still depicted participants as everyday heroes, yet she also noticed how protesters' brief sense of power through collective action faded into disillusionment after the Kremlin went ahead with its plans.
'Other Russias' introduced Lomasko to a worldwide audience. By the time the book came out in 2017, however, she began to question the very basis of her graphic reportage.
The protests that had inspired hope in 2011 and 2012 had not prevented a more aggressive, more oppressive form of Putinism from taking hold. After the protests, the Kremlin further concentrated power and employed propaganda to stifle dissent, becoming what the scholars Sergei Guriev and Daniel Triesman have called 'spin dictators.'
Was it enough for an artist to document social change? Lomasko concluded that the answer was no – art should offer solutions. She decided to paint murals that would move beyond graphic reportage.
This new trajectory informed her Miami University project. By the time she arrived in March 2019, Lomasko had completed her first two murals: one for a gallery in England and a second in Germany.
The first, 'The Daughter of an Agitprop Artist,' featured her father, who had worked as a propaganda poster artist in her hometown of Serpukhov in the 1980s. In the mural, her father gazes at his work, the rituals of government-sponsored marches, and Lenin posters plastered everywhere. Young Vika stands with her back to her father, holding a red balloon. She stares at her future self, a woman covering the grassroots protests of 2012.
'Our Post-Soviet Land,' her second mural, depicted the ways some former Soviet states, particularly Ukraine, were distancing themselves from their communist past after independence – while others, particularly Russia itself, seemed to be increasingly nostalgic for the Soviet era.
Lomasko spent two weeks on campus at Miami University here in Ohio, completing a mural that built on these themes.
The central feature are two figures representing contemporary versions of Atlas, the titan who held up the world in Greek mythology. One faces left, toward a group of people praying in front of an Orthodox icon of Jesus. Here Lomasko depicts one path Russians took in response to the oppressive nature of Putinism: turning inward, retreating to a spiritual life.
The second Atlas gazes upward, holding an artist's brush. Below this figure a series of people take to the streets, protesting. They hold flags and banners representing a number of causes, including the 2011 'Occupy' movement in the United States. Lomasko's message seems clear: This is a second path to take to resist authoritarianism – one that might succeed if participants see themselves connected across borders.
After unveiling 'Atlases,' Lomasko mentioned that she was still trying to retain hope for her country and for humanity. Once again, it did not last long.
During the first two terms of Putin's presidency, and that of Dmitry Medvedev, the government had largely left citizens' speech alone, though it controlled information through state media. In 2018 and 2019, however, Russia passed laws that clamped down on internet access and mobile communication.
Lomasko could no longer exhibit her work in Russia and was increasingly unable to find paid work as an artist. As she told me, the state considered her unvarnished depictions of ordinary Russians to be distasteful, while publishers and gallery owners considered her works politically dangerous.
When the country began its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, these changes allowed the government to criminalize opposition. Lomasko made the difficult decision to flee Moscow. She took her cat and as many artworks as she could carry, but she had to abandon most of her possessions. She documented this new journey the only way she knew: through a series of art panels titled 'Five Steps.'
'Isolation' encapsulates how Lomasko and dissidents like her grew ever more cut off from the rampant patriotism espoused by Putin. 'Escape' shows her leap into the unknown, fleeing her country because she feared arrest, while others are caught up in war and political repression.
'Exile' depicts Lomasko starting anew in a different country. 'Shame,' the most powerful, seeks to capture her emotions at having to flee, as well as the shame she felt for what Russia was doing to Ukraine. 'Humanity' retains the artist's attempt to preserve her optimism – her sense that humans have more in common than they have differences, and that seeing oneself within a larger, global community might give power to the invisible.
Tens of thousands of Russians have left the country since the start of the war, many of them artists and activists. Zygar and Volkov – the two other Russian citizens on campus for our university's 2018-19 series – have also had to flee.
Lomasko's art helps trace how authoritarianism took hold in Russia across the past decade. I believe her responses to Putin's dictatorship, including her decision to flee her homeland, offer us all something to ponder.
This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Stephen Norris, Miami University
Read more:
As the Kremlin eyes a thaw with the White House, Russia's pro-war hawks aren't too happy
Americans love free speech, survey finds − until they realize everyone else has it, too
How Russia has managed to shake off the impact of sanctions – with a little help from its friends
Stephen Norris does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.