Marcel Winatschek

No Faces, No Names, No Tickets

The collective published an open letter this week, and it is one of the more coherent things I’ve read from a punk band: Pussy Riot has expelled Nadia Tolokonnikova and Masha Alyokhina. The two most recognizable members, currently touring the United States to campaign against Vladimir Putin, Russian homophobia, and the brutal conditions of women’s prisons, are no longer part of the group that made them famous.

The letter doesn’t read as a betrayal. It reads as a clarification. The immediate grievance: an Amnesty International event promoted as a Pussy Riot show used a poster featuring a masked man holding an electric guitar. A man. The tickets weren’t free. We are women. No man can represent us, neither on a poster nor in reality. We are anti-capitalist; we do not charge money to view our art. Our videos are freely available online; the audience for our performances is always made up of bystanders. Hard to argue with. The Pussy Riot that most people actually know—unauthorized shows in public spaces, faces covered, videos distributed freely, no individual names attached—is not compatible with a ticketed Western concert tour where the headliner is the brand.

There’s something worth sitting with in what the remaining collective is defending. The anonymity was never just a legal precaution; it was the formal argument. Cover your face, refuse the celebrity economy, make it structurally impossible for anyone to reduce the act to a personality. Nadia and Masha became famous because they went to prison, and that fame has real geopolitical weight. But you cannot be simultaneously anonymous and the most photographed punk act on the international circuit. One of those things eventually breaks.

The letter closes with something close to warmth: Yes, we have lost two friends, two members who followed our ideology, but the world has gained two brave, interesting, and contradictory people. We appreciate their choice and wish them all the best. Neither Nadia nor Masha commented publicly. Maybe there’s nothing to say when the argument is that clean.