Pussy Riot — to themselves, their fans and even academics — aren’t just a music group.
“They’re, like, more than just a band,” explained fan Matthew Lipke, waiting outside their recent show at Lee’s Palace in Toronto. “They’re like a movement.”
For others who headed to the collective’s Riot Days tour, the sentiment was the same: The songs are good, but the Russian musicians represent a protest streak, with importance both in their home country and right here in Canada.
“I think that Pussy Riot provides an incredible example of activist art that can actually become part of popular culture,” added filmmaker, scholar and curator — and fellow fan waiting in line — Marusya Bociurkiw. “Which, I think, they sort of have.”
That message got its start in 2012, when the punk rockers were charged for “hooliganism motivated by religious hatred” after filming a “punk prayer” protest video inside a cathedral. The target of their protest was both the Russian Orthodox church and Russian President Vladimir Putin, the former of whom they accused of corruption in supporting the latter.
It was from that event their public image stuck — colourful balaclava-wearing activists speaking out for LGBTQ+ rights, and against what they saw as autocracy and anti-democratic actions.
And shortly after that protest came the event that led to their biggest publicity: Founding members Nadezhda (Nadya) Tolokonnikova and Maria (Masha) Alyokhina were arrested and imprisoned for two years. A third member — Yekaterina (Kat) Samutsevich — was similarly arrested, but released soon after. A Moscow judge convicted them later that year, saying they had “crudely undermined social order.”
The backlash was widespread and nearly immediate. World governments decried the punishments as disproportionate, excessively harsh and a violation of fundamental rights and freedoms.
“It was probably the high-water mark of Russian opposition activities,” said Seva Gunitsky, an associate professor of political science at the University of Toronto. The group’s liberal stance against Putin and attempt to present what they felt were civil rights violations inside the country to an international audience was an eye-opening cause célèbre — most notably outside of Russia.
“It was one of the first times that the idea of a liberal Russian opposition entered Western consciousness,” he said. “It showed to the West that, first of all, there is an opposition, and there’s an active liberal opposition in Russia. But also that they’re very much connected to the West and represent the same values.”
Thirteen years, numerous arrests and many new members later (dozens of people could be considered part of Pussy Riot, as the feminist art collective believes anyone can be a participant) that message continues.
The tour is equal parts play and concert; its first leg was based on Alyokhina’s book of the same name, detailing her experiences in the Russian criminal system. The current show is based on her second book, set to release in 2025, detailing her post-prison experiences, highlighting protests, oppression and the story of Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, who died at age 47 in a prison in Siberia in 2024.
Proceeds will go to support Ukrainian relief and Russian political prisoners. Their Canadian concert dates mark the group’s first international performances since the show launched in Munich earlier this year.
But as the show continues — its current leg has half of its shows in Canada — their presence inside their home country has diminished.
Alyokhina fled Russia in 2022, disguised as a food courier. She was under house arrest at the time — as part of one of the numerous charges levied at the group’s members as Putin’s government cracked down on dissent.
That came to a head following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine launched that same year. Since then, new laws meant spreading information that went against the government’s narrative about the war could lead to sentences of up to 15 years in prison.
Kremlin tightens grip on Russians’ access to media with misinformation law
With that punishment hanging over their heads, the majority of Pussy Riot followed Alyokhina’s lead in fleeing. At the same time, liberal opposition all but disappeared in the country, Gunitsky said.
“Inside Russia, groups like Pussy Riot have very little cultural capital nowadays,” he said. “Groups that used to do things like go to concerts by Pussy Riot have been very much marginalized, arrested or have simply left the country — along with millions of people who might have felt any affinity for liberal values.”
They have instead found root in the West. That’s true in Canada, as well, Gunitsky said, where the “punk rock aesthetic” of rebelling against what can be perceived as a bullying government — in this case, the United States — has found some degree of sympathy.
Edmonton-born musician margø, who is opening for Pussy Riot, sees the collective’s cause as being equally as important to activists in North America. As their specific anti-Putin message has blossomed into a more widespread support of marginalized groups all over the world, she said she hopes audience members are able to take that sentiment home.
“I hope that they leave feeling inspired to make a positive change in the world,” she said. “And hopefully everyone in the room leaves feeling that energy of ‘Everyone belongs. Everyone should feel safe. And I want to carry that into my everyday life.'”
And broadcasting that message from the Pussy Riot Stage, margø said, is one of the greatest honours of her career.
“It is very inspiring to remember that, you know, there is so much power in our words. There is so much power in art,” she said.
“[It’s important for] people with a platform like Pussy Riot — or like myself — to be able to stand up on that stage and remind people that … there’s a lot to fight for, and there’s a long way to go.”
