How the Venice Biennale became Russia’s way back into Europe

How the Venice Biennale became Russia’s way back into Europe

Moscow’s brief yet controversial return reignited debate over its place in Europe’s cultural institutions, even as the war in Ukraine continues.

By MARTINA SAPIO
in VENICE

International women’s movement FEMEN and Pussy Riot activists stage a protest against the participation of Russia in the Venice Biennale art show, in front of Russian pavilion on May 6, 2026 in Venice.

Photo by  Marco Bertorello/ Getty Images

Russia’s art is back on the European stage — and so is its soft power.

One of the continent’s most prestigious cultural platforms, the Venice Biennale saw the controversial reopening of Russia’s national pavilion this year. Back for the first time since the war in Ukraine began, the Kremlin-hosted pavilion was accessible for only three days during press preview before opening to the public. But Moscow’s brief return proved nonetheless effective, forcing Europe to reopen a debate many thought was already settled.

“They achieved exactly what they wanted,” European Parliament Vice President Pina Picierno told POLITICO in an interview. “That pavilion should never have opened … It became a hymn to regime propaganda.”

Featuring giant floral installations and various musical performances, Russia’s exhibit was one of the most politically explosive in years, drawing politicians, artists, dissidents and European institutions into an increasingly bitter clash over culture, propaganda and freedom of expression.

Italian Deputy Prime Minister Matteo Salvini personally visited the pavilion during the pre-opening days. “Art has no borders, no censorship, no gag,” he said. “Culture and sport should remain neutral spaces and places of encounter.”

But for critics of Russia’s participation, Russia’s display was less about artistic freedom than an attempt to regain international legitimacy after the country’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

A Ukrainian protester is pictured in front of the closed Russian pavilion on the day of the Biennale’s official opening to the public. | Martina Sapio/POLITICO

“The presence of Russia at the Biennale is an attempt to normalize the war,” said Ksenia Malykh, curator of the Ukrainian pavilion, which had its central installation — a deer statue called “Security Guarantees” — installed within sight of the Russia’s building.

These concerns had already triggered a sharp political backlash long before the biennale opened its doors: In April, EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas announced the European Commission intended to cut roughly €2 million in event funding over Russia’s participation, 25 European countries backed calls to exclude Russia from the exhibition, and the Italian government effectively boycotted the opening.

Russia’s soft power

The biennale is not the first or only place Russia is slowly reinstating its international presence. Over the past few months, global federations have begun readmitting Russian athletes into disciplines ranging from aquatics to gymnastics.

“I am deeply concerned because what we are seeing is not a series of isolated decisions,” Ukraine’s Minister of Youth and Sports Matvii Bidnyi told POLITICO last month in an interview about Russia’s return to international sports.

“The message is clear: Serious violations of international law do not necessarily lead to lasting consequences,” he added.

A sticker is plastered on one of the Arsenale doors as part of a Ukrainian campaign commemorating Ukrainian artists killed during the war against Russia’s participation. | Martina Sapio/POLITICO

“Russia uses culture and sports as key tools of state policy,” agreed Lithuanian lawmaker Petras Auštrevičius. “Culture and sports in Russia have always served to achieve ideological goals, which currently consist of justifying military aggression against Ukraine and intensifying the challenge to the West.”

He added that in the European Parliament’s upcoming annual Ukraine report, lawmakers are expected to condemn both the biennale’s decision to readmit Russian artists and the growing reintegration of Russian athletes into international competitions, arguing that sports and culture are being “actively used by the Russian and Belarusian regimes for state propaganda.”

Meanwhile, Russia is now eligible to win the biennale’s publicly voted Visitor Lion prizes, which replaced the event’s traditionally jury-voted awards after the entire group resigned last month.

Still, for Moscow critics, whether or not it takes home a prize is beside the point. The real significance of this year’s exhibition lies in what many fear is already underway: Russia’s gradual return to Europe.

“They infiltrate and normalize their crimes through sports, opera, chess, art and even religion,” said Russian punk group Pussy Riot’s founder Nadya Tolokonnikova, speaking to POLITICO after they staged a massive protest outside the pavilion on the biennale’s opening day.

“They think they can weather the storm, and let it blow over.”

On the main stage

The tension over Russia’s return was impossible to miss on the ground in Venice.

Across the exhibition spaces, blue-and-yellow stickers appeared on walls and windows in remembrance of the 346 Ukrainian artists killed since Russia’s full-scale invasion began. Kremlin-themed stickers also decorated many surfaces, bearing the slogan “Death in Venice.”

Outside the Russian pavilion, one woman stood silently facing the building, wearing a cream-colored suit with the words “NO PUTIN NO WAR” printed across the back. Another young protester stood alone, looking down and holding a handwritten sign: “Russia killed my entire family. You pay to make it normal.”

A German protester stages a performance in front of the Russian pavilion during the Biennale preopening. | Martina Sapio/POLITICO

Georgian activist Shalva Nikvashvili, who staged a protest outside the pavilion during the biennale’s pre-opening days, later told POLITICO that Russia “does not only wage war through weapons” but also “through culture, normalization, visibility and the rehabilitation of its image internationally.”

“The fact that institutions are once again debating how Russia should participate — instead of whether accountability has happened — already shifts the narrative in Russia’s favor,” he said.

Inside the pavilion, performers moved beneath a suspended ceiling of flowers, while staff members wearing animalistic black masks drifted silently through the rooms. One person assisting the pavilion said the masks were “for personal safety.” Security guards and staff were prohibited from speaking with journalists.

“For me, the flowers are a funeral,” activist Mariam Esvyanidze told POLITICO after being forcibly removed from the pavilion for displaying a Ukrainian flag during Salvini’s visit. “A funeral of Russia, a funeral of the people who died in Ukraine,” she said.

Esvyanidze also called the pavilion “a very smart move.” Solvita Krese, commissioner of the Latvian pavilion, similarly described Russia’s participation as “a smart way to normalize their presence,” while Moldovan artist Pavel Brăila called it “a bomb inside the system.”

“They know exactly how this works,” said Brăila. “They started with the Olympics, now they move to art, ballet, culture… They will continue.”

Freedom of speech?

This year marked Russia’s first appearance at the Venice Biennale since the war in Ukraine began in 2022, as the following years saw its state-backed culture largely vanish from Europe’s major public events.

According to biennale organizers, excluding the pavilion would amount to censorship rather than resistance to the Kremlin.

“It is important to have all the voices represented here,” Anastasia Karneeva, the Russian pavilion’s commissioner, told POLITICO. Asked what the reopening represented for her country, “of course, it’s important,” she said. “This is exactly what the biennale is for. People are meeting and creating something new.”

Russian pavilion Commissioner Anastasia Karneeva shakes hands with Italian Deputy Prime Minister Matteo Salvini during his visit to the pavilion. | Martina Sapio/POLITICO

But for critics, this argument raises another question: whether any version of Russian culture can still be separated from state power while the war continues.

Some dissidents, including members of Pussy Riot, argue that the pavilion should have been handed over to anti-war Russian artists in exile. But others reject even that possibility, saying any normalization of Russia’s cultural presence during the ongoing war risks helping Moscow’s international rehabilitation.

“I believe there is no culture from Russia that can be apolitical,” said Maryia Zayeva, a PhD candidate in political science specializing in Russia at Vrije Universiteit Brussel. This is especially true for artists and opposition figures still living inside the country — even many opposition voices continue to think in “imperial” terms, she argued.

“When Russia announced the pavilion, they did not say: ‘We are not coming back,’” noted Ukrainian artist Zhanna Kadyrova. “They said: ‘We were always here.’”