From Passion to Persecution: How the Kremlin Chief Censor’s Cultural Dream Became a Russian Nightmare

As the head of the presidential administration’s Public Projects Department, Sergey Novikov has the power to destroy an artist’s career over an anti-war letter. His department has gained notoriety for various reasons: spreading anti-Ukrainian narratives online, silencing Russia’s anti-war cultural figures, and conducting propaganda work in occupied Ukrainian territories. While Novikov was once considered a friend among journalistic circles, he now engages in cultural censorship. In a joint investigation, IStories and Meduza track Novikov’s transformation into a figure who bans actors from speaking out against the war, likens Ukrainians to Nazis, and speculates about the West’s “dirty bomb.”

Horror of the world

On January 27, 2024, the 80th anniversary of the lifting of the siege of Leningrad and two years after the start of the war in Ukraine, the Moscow Philharmonic choir performed Verdi’s Requiem at Tchaikovsky Concert Hall. This production was first shown in 2019, with the staging remaining characteristically unchanged ever since. Typically, large screens behind the singers display footage from the Great Patriotic War, but not on this occasion.

When the choir sang the final part of the Requiem — Libera Me (“Deliver me”) — the screens unexpectedly displayed a nine-minute montage where scenes of Nazi torchlight processions in Berlin were replaced by footage from the Euromaidan uprisings in Kyiv. A burning swastika transformed into yellow and blue flags, and the dismantling of Soviet monuments in Ukraine, Latvia, and Estonia was accompanied by archival footage of book burnings in the Third Reich.

The images were overlaid by lines from the Requiem’s libretto translated into Russian: “Horror of the world, name of wrath, // Sin and suffering, // The great and terrible day is upon us, // You will come here to judge the world by the fire of the Lord.” With the choir echoing these ominous words, several audience members left the hall, according to a participant.

The performance was conducted by Dmitri Jurowski, the youngest member of a famous musical dynasty. His father, Michail Jurowski, was a guest conductor for several major international orchestras and was nominated for a Grammy Award for the recordings of Rimsky-Korsakov’s orchestral music. His older brother, Vladimir Jurowski, currently leads the symphony orchestras of the Bavarian State Opera and Berlin Radio (he opposes the Russian invasion, features the Ukrainian national anthem in his concerts, and calls Alexey Navalny “a martyr of our times.”)

Unlike his brother, Dmitri Jurowski performs in Europe as well as Russia — working as the chief conductor at opera theaters in Krasnoyarsk and Novosibirsk and collaborating with various concert venues in Moscow. According to a source at the Moscow Philharmonic, the alterations made to the video sequence were “a big surprise” for the conductor (we were unable to contact Jurowski directly). “The musicians were looking at the screen, and then that appeared. Everyone was, let’s say, shocked,” stated another source associated with the orchestra. The musicians had not seen the video prior to the concert, claims a Philharmonic source: “The project had been well prepared; there were practically no rehearsals, we just checked how the lighting looked in certain frames, that was it.”

The montage was created under the instruction of the Requiem’s stage director, the Philharmonic source added. It was he who deemed it appropriate to combine blockade footage with scenes from modern Ukraine, explaining to the musicians after the concert that this was how “the parallel with today needed to be drawn.”

It turned out that this conception of the Requiem was staged by a little-known opera director but a very well-known official in the Russian President’s administration, Sergey Novikov. His department of public projects now sets the rules of Russian culture.

Bohemians’ friend in the NKVD

“Polished,” “shady,” and “evasive.” This is how actors and musicians familiar with Sergey Novikov describe him.

“I saw him [before the war] at theatrical gatherings about five or six times, quite often with [conductor] Teodor Currentzis. He was well-dressed, well-groomed. Subconsciously, you don’t expect anything malicious from him. You’re a friend of Currentzis, he’s a friend of Currentzis, you have so much in common... Surely, he must be a very nice person too!” a Russian actress recalls.

Novikov, according to an acquaintance, truly adores bohemian company. Before the war, aside from Teodor Currentzis, he also mingled with the likes of actor and director Danila Kozlovsky (the state corporation Rosatom, where Novikov worked before joining the presidential administration, supported Kozlovsky’s film Chernobyl). Three sources in the cultural industry recall how he revealed his “true nature” in the spring of 2022, when Russian artists and musicians were signing anti-war letters en masse and posting black squares on social media. To rectify the situation, Novikov held a series of emergency meetings.

He met with Russian filmmakers at the presidential administration building. “Since many films featuring anti-war actors were already in production and couldn’t be scrapped, they managed to convince the presidential administration that these [anti-war letters] were just emotional outbursts. Like, actors are always hysterical, what do you expect, forgive them just this once. A strict condition was set that this mustn’t happen again,” recalls a film industry source.

The same condition was placed upon the artistic directors of several Moscow theaters during a meeting at the Union of Theater Workers, says a Russian actress. “Novikov spoke with us. He brought a flash drive and asked an assistant to connect it [to the computer]. He showed us a presentation with information about a dirty bomb supposedly being made in Ukraine and made jokes about the [international literary] tree contest rejecting Tolstoy’s oak. The gist of his speech was that when your army is at war, it’s shameful to criticize it, and if we hadn’t attacked Ukraine, they would have definitely dropped a dirty bomb on us. Complete absurdity and pure Zoshchenko.”

Those who failed to remain silent — like Danila Kozlovsky — quickly lost their roles and tour shows across Russia, ending up on a so-called blacklist of cultural figures whose work in Russia is restricted or entirely banned. The task of compiling these lists falls to Sergey Novikov’s subordinates.

If artists seek to be removed from the list, the administration offers them a way to “atone” for their anti-war statements by traveling to occupied territories and making donations to “approved” charitable foundations. “If people refuse, Novikov gets seriously offended and asks, ‘Why won’t you let us help you?’” recounts a well-known Russian actress.

She likens Novikov to Yakov Agranov, a high-ranking NKVD officer who, during the Stalinist repressions, oversaw work with the “creative intelligentsia” and was close friends with famous Soviet writers, including Vladimir Mayakovsky, Boris Pilnyak, Lilya Brik, and Leopold Averbakh. Friendships within bohemian circles, however, did not prevent Agranov from reporting them to the NKVD.

Novikov’s professional interests reach far beyond the censorship of music and theater. Whenever necessary, he edits movie scripts and determines whether contemporary blockbusters (including TV series) align with the concepts of “protecting national interests” and “national sovereignty.”

Novikov is happy in his current role and considers himself a significant part of Russian culture, according to a source close to the presidential administration: “He’s very vain — he was thrilled to be appointed to the public projects department, like, ‘I am now someone who makes decisions.’ Birthdays, presentations, and so on — that’s his thing, he’s a regular guest. He would even go out to buy bread in a tuxedo if he could.”

Fearless journalist

The future chief censor of Russian culture was always “smiled upon by fate” and “found himself in the right place at the right time,” says a longtime acquaintance.

Novikov was born in Nizhny Novgorod, in 1977. As a schoolboy, he went to the US on an exchange program, his acquaintance recalls. Novikov returned with a good knowledge of English and “a certain European edge.” “At the time, such exchanges were really cool,” the source says. “It was interesting to talk to him, he’d already seen a lot. Most people probably noticed this in him.”

In 1995, Novikov became the host of a regional children’s television show, before moving to the private radio station, Radio Rendezvous. It was established in 1992, with the support of the French Embassy — ​​a significant moment for the city. “The only Nizhny Novgorod-based FM radio station. The rest were still retransmitting from Moscow,” explains a former Radio Rendezvous employee. “The initial format had a French flair and good music,” says another Nizhny Novgorod-based journalist. Many private media outlets, he adds, had “a very liberal atmosphere” at that time, but Radio Rendezvous stood out with “a special essence of freedom.”

On the radio, the charming Novikov, as his acquaintance notes, was “immediately touted as the local Larry King.” In archival photographs, the future official is seen on air with reformer Yegor Gaidar, Boris Nemtsov (then governor of the Nizhny Novgorod region), and Sergey Kiriyenko (then Nemtsov’s associate). In 2000, the 23-year-old host became the youngest laureate of the Nizhny Novgorod city journalism award; his photo was featured on the cover of the local newspaper Monitor, and he actively defended the rights of journalists. “If we don’t try to earn respect, then we, independent media, will not be respected,” Novikov warned colleagues from other media outlets during a briefing organized by Radio Rendezvous in response to the improper behavior of a local politician.

Three sources familiar with the authors of this article recall that the Radio Rendezvous leadership had good relations with Sergey Kiriyenko, who studied and worked in Nizhny Novgorod. Novikov, according to his acquaintance, “always knew how to show loyalty, be in demand, and when necessary — keep silent.” How the official and journalist grew closer remains unclear, but by the early 2000s, Sergey Novikov entered government and became the chief advisor to Kiriyenko’s apparatus, who had become the presidential envoy to the Volga Federal District.

“Grew and matured with Kiriyenko”

The Institute of Plenipotentiary Representatives of the Russian President was created on May 13, 2000. Just ten days later, Sergey Novikov, still a host at Radio Rendezvous, began telling Nizhny Novgorod journalists of the options for establishing Sergey Kiriyenko’s official residence and headquarters in the city. Before long, Novikov was communicating with local journalists as Kiriyenko’s official representative.

Journalist Alexander Pichugin, who launched the Vesti-Privolzhye program on the state television and radio network Nizhny Novgorod under the auspices of the plenipotentiary in 2000, remembers that “Novikov wasn’t exactly closely watched.” “We had a fairly liberal work environment,” recalls Pichugin. “As the editor-in-chief, I didn’t receive strict orders on what could and couldn’t be done.”

As part of Kiriyenko’s team, Novikov was involved with the Social and Cultural Projects Fair. Launched by Kiriyenko in 2000, the fair was designed to contribute to the “development of a new model of socio-economic development of the Volga Federal District.” According to a participant, one of its responsibilities was creating a new model of financing socially significant projects (including independent media) — Western funds and Russian businessmen were supposed to support them in conjunction with the state. The budget for financing the jury-selected projects amounted to almost three million dollars, of which one million was donated by George Soros’ fund (in 2015 recognized by the Russian authorities as an “undesirable organization”). Vladimir Potanin’s investment company Interros also pledged 100 thousand dollars to the initiative (the enterprise fell under US sanctions after the start of the full-scale war). Novikov, an acquaintance recalls, willingly attended presentations and seminars where the fair’s participants openly discussed various projects developed by NGOs and independent media outlets.

Novikov immediately began to regard his new boss as a role model. “He grew and matured with Kiriyenko. I think this became a very important part of his own identity and the respect he felt for the mentorship from a person he admired,” recalls one of the official’s acquaintances. “Kiriyenko knows how to win people over,” adds Alexander Pichugin. “His inner circle dotes over him — that’s a fact. He values loyalty and, apparently, it’s reciprocated.”

In 2005, when Kiriyenko was appointed head of Rosatom, Novikov followed. At the company, he was responsible for press relations and, according to three journalists who interacted with him, was “cool,” “nice,” “friendly,” and “personable.” For example, he helped reporters arrange interviews with hard-to-reach speakers and escorted journalists to exclusive events at the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum (SPIEF). Thanks to him, recalls a former employee of a Russian business publication, journalists attended “the coolest energy sessions [at SPIEF], with various international experts,” who would speak alongside Rosneft’s CEO Igor Sechin and Gazprom Chairman Alexey Miller.

During those years, Novikov enthusiastically spoke to journalists about the construction of Russian nuclear power plants and admired that “Sergey Vladilenovich [Kiriyenko]” had chosen to work in such a complex industry, saying “he’s done a good job, he’s figured it out, he keeps his finger on the pulse.”

Novikov also made numerous television appearances as the representative of Rosatom — featuring on the celebrated Russian TV quiz show What? Where? When? which is sponsored by the state corporation. From 2012 to 2016, Novikov, invariably dressed in a tuxedo, defended the teams of experts and even competed against the TV viewers himself on one occasion.

In addition to advocating for the experts’ opinions in contentious situations, Novikov also gave prizes from Rosatom to the best performing players. For instance, in the fall of 2012, he awarded his namesake, lawyer Ilya Novikov, a special prize for triumphing in a blitz game — a cruise to the North Pole on an icebreaker. In 2016, lawyer Novikov had to leave What? Where? When? due to his involvement in the case of Ukrainian pilot, Nadiya Savchenko. Currently, he lives in Kyiv and supports Ukraine, while in Russia he has been stripped of his license to practice law and sentenced in absentia to eight years in prison.

Personal games

One of Sergey Novikov’s longtime acquaintances recalls being surprised upon learning of his appointment as head of the public projects department: “Some department heads are quite independent people, but Seryozha had never been involved in any personal games. He’s not a natural leader, but he’s an ideal subordinate. If you give him a task and explain everything, he’ll complete it and report back.”

The projects department was established in 2012 “to strengthen the spiritual and moral foundations of Russian society and improve state policy in the field of patriotic education.” The department oversees the presidential administration’s interaction with the media, as well as culture, youth policy, and relations with pro-government social organizations.

Oversight of Russian media is institutionalized and definitively divided between government departments. Television, for instance, is overseen by the first deputy head of the presidential administration, Alexey Gromov. “He only believes in the power of the box,” says a former state journalist. According to the independent media outlet Proekt, the heads of all major TV channels attend meetings with Gromov at the presidential administration where they receive instructions on how to cover certain events and what to ignore. Internet media and print publications are currently supervised by the deputy chief of the presidential administration, Kiriyenko (the entire political bloc of the administration falls under his jurisdiction, including Novikov’s department).

Upon taking over the department, Novikov immediately acquainted himself with the leaders and employees of many major media outlets (and for some, he became a “source close to the presidential administration.”) But mostly Novikov himself initiates contact with the media elite. “For example, he may call the editor-in-chief if there is sensitive information regarding United Russia or personnel changes in the government or administration. Or to highlight certain important points, [to indicate] what to cover and what not,” says a source.

“If he was reaching out, his goal was clear — to find out what we were planning, what we were doing, what we were writing about, and how dangerous it could be for them,” recalls a former business journalist.

It was Novikov who distributed Alexey Navalny’s “toxicology results” (later refuted by German doctors) to journalists after his poisoning with Novichok in 2020, recounts a former employee of an online publication who received such a document. The documents suggested that there were no suspicious substances in the politician’s blood. Dmitry Peskov, Putin’s press secretary, also claimed that “numerous tests” showed that Navalny had not been poisoned with any harmful substances, while Alexander Tabaev, the chief toxicologist of the Omsk region, claimed that the politician fell into a “metabolic coma” due to a metabolic disorder (we explained here why these statements were empty rhetoric).

Novikov reared his head again when Proekt was preparing an article about Gromov. One of the journalists, Mikhail Rubin, recalls the situation: “He found out that we were writing about Gromov, called me, and said, ‘Misha, this could be very dangerous.’ At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it, but then two people barged into my parents’ home with a camera, shouting: ‘Isn’t your son ashamed for selling out his homeland?’ And I remembered his words and thought, ‘Fuck.’”

It is Novikov who gathers the editors-in-chief of pro-government media for “briefings” (although Gromov is also sometimes in attendance). “He says, ‘Don’t bring that up. For example, recently there was an order to focus less on inflation and rising prices,’” says a major editor.

According to him, another such “briefing” occurred before the recent increase in personal income taxes. During a meeting, journalists were explicitly told not to refer to this change as a “reform” — after all, as the authorities claim, it will only affect 2–3% of Russians. Journalists were offered alternative phrasings: “tax changes,” “establishing a fairer tax system,” “improving the tax system.”

But the official’s involvement in censorship and propaganda extends beyond this.

An acquaintance of Novikov and Kiriyenko calls what they are currently doing with the internet a “big, beautiful, demagogic lie.”

Novikov, for instance, serves on the supervisory board of the Institute for Internet Development (IID), an organization specializing in producing propagandistic “patriotic content”: films, TV series, computer games, and other projects (read more about it here). Meanwhile, Novikov’s 25-year-old daughter Ksenia works as the deputy director of A-Mero, an events agency that organizes functions for the IID and other organizations her father oversees.

Novikov’s work with the IID more closely aligns with his passions. According to sources close to the presidential administration, Novikov is focused “on culture” and working with cultural figures. “You could say that this is what motivates him [to work in the Kremlin]. Culture is where he feels comfortable,” agrees one source.

“I’m at the top. So, I understand what’s good and what’s bad.”

A week before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the board of trustees of the presidential foundation The Circle of Kindness convened at the Ministry of Health. Novikov had been presiding over this organization, which helps seriously ill children, since its inception. One of the participants recalls that during the meeting, Novikov criticized the head of the fund, Archpriest Alexander Tkachenko, saying that the foundation was mismanaging its public relations efforts. He then announced that the non-profit organization ANO Dialog would take over these duties.

Dialog publishes fakes about Ukraine online, promotes the Russian Ministry of Defense, and spreads a pro-Kremlin agenda across the media, social networks, and large Telegram channels (including Kristina Potupchik’s channel, with whom Novikov has long collaborated). Novikov, unsurprisingly, sits on Dialog’s supervisory board.

According to an employee of the ANO, “Dialogers” were tasked with developing a promotion strategy for the Circle of Kindness: “tone of voice, topics, messages.” The foundation’s logo, a misshapen red circle, was also designed by Dialog. Judging by a marketing presentation at our disposal, it is intended to symbolize a plasticine model made by a child.

Novikov’s management team approves entertainers headlining charity events and coordinates background music for commercials commissioned by various foundations, screening artists to prevent platforming anyone with anti-war views, two sources in the charity sector reveal.

The day after the war began, heads of major Russian charitable foundations and NGOs publicly called for Putin to stop the military actions. Novikov’s subordinates, however, asked them to retract their signatures from the appeal, claim two sources in the charity sector. “Several organizations, fearing losing their presidential grants, withdrew their signatures from the letter,” one source added.

Novikov is also responsible for allocating the budgets of two major funds — the Presidential Grants Fund and the Presidential Fund for Cultural Initiatives (their coordination councils are managed by Kiriyenko, with Novikov as deputy). In total, these structures expended 20 billion rubles from the state budget in 2023. The presidential grants fund finances NGOs engaged in promoting a healthy lifestyle, supporting families, youth projects, and since the start of the war, those working in support of Russia’s invasion.

During the latest grant allocation contest, half-a-billion rubles were allocated to organizations operating in the occupied territories. The cultural initiatives fund also assigned grants to the so-called “new regions”: for instance, in the Donetsk People's Republic (DPR), the first junior league of the comedy competition KVN Donbasochka was organized, in the Luhansk People’s Republic (LPR), Russian writers toured the region, and in the occupied part of Zaporizhzhia Oblast, an exhibition titled For a World Without Nazism was held.

“There's this managerial style of art criticism emerging: ‘I’m at the top, so I understand what’s good and what’s bad,’” Novikov’s acquaintance, who was seeking support for a project, said of his approach.

“In the avant-garde of the Z-patriots”

During his tenure at the administration, Novikov has changed significantly, according to multiple acquaintances. One former political journalist describes him as a “typical senior official in the presidential administration, Teflon-coated.” A former editor at a major media outlet, confirms that Novikov used to be “cool, helpful to journalists, but has become a boring bureaucrat.”

Lawyer and longtime acquaintance Ilya Novikov, reminisces about their interactions during What? Where? When? tapings, saying “he was just an ordinary manager at a Russian state corporation. There was nothing in him that foretold the ghoul he would later become.” He remarks on the subsequent transformation, stating that power often changes people: “now he truly is a ghoul. Now he’s one of the people directly and personally responsible for this war.”

According to Kremlin Leaks — documents from the Russian presidential administration made available to a consortium of journalists, including Meduza and IStories — Sergey Novikov is responsible for numerous projects in Ukraine’s occupied territories. 

Specifically, he oversaw the activities of ANO Integratsiya, another Kremlin propaganda structure tasked with promoting so-called opinion leaders who advance the Russian government’s agenda. Documents revealed Novikov’s role in managing Integratsiya’s activities in the self-proclaimed Luhansk People’s Republic and Donetsk People’s Republic. Local opinion leaders were meant to incite support during “referendums” on these regions’ accession into Russia and subsequent presidential elections.

An acquaintance stresses: “Novikov… at meetings constantly talks about enemies in the West, corrupt journalists and politicians, and collective traditional values.”

Moskvichka in Donetsk

Sergey Novikov’s wife, Moscow-based journalist and TV presenter Ekaterina Shugaeva, regularly documents her trips to Donetsk and Mariupol. Her posts include statements like “Avdiivka is ours!” and expressions of admiration for her friend, propagandist Kristina Potupchik. Together with Moskvichka magazine’s editorial team (a publication launched by Potupchik in response to Western glossy magazines exiting Russia), she travels around the DPR giving lectures.

Shugaeva hosts a popular science program on the channel NTV, Us and Science. Science and Us, which airs once a week at around midnight. She also produces a show sponsored by Rosatom for TV Igra, the creator of What? Where? When? When asked how one might go about becoming a host on a state TV channel, she replied, “to achieve that, you’ll need to befriend What? Where? When?’”. Natalya Stetsenko, the CEO of TV Igra, proposed Shugaeva’s candidacy for presenter of Us and Science.

“Katya holds herself well on screen... But many said she only became the host because Novikov requested his wife be placed somewhere. Some even thought that the entire show was created specifically for her,” says one former expert on the show.

Shugaeva also hosts a live stream TV show on the state-controlled Channel One, in support of the pro-Kremlin All-Russian People’s Front (ONF), “for soldiers, their families, and those who want to offer help.” It was officially launched to “address issues faced by our soldiers and their families live on air.” The guests include a diverse panel of pro-government experts, with statements denouncing Ukrainians as “second-class humans” featuring heavily throughout.

In early 2024, Olga Uskova, founder of Cognitive Technologies, which develops unmanned transport technologies, appeared as an expert on the show. Uskova has recently ventured into writing, “co-authoring” the book Etyudy Cherni with the help of artificial intelligence (an achievement she calls the “pinnacle of contemporary literature.”) She also filed a complaint with the Investigative Committee against Vladimir Sorokin whose latest novel, Heritage, outraged her. Following Uskova’s complaint, AST (incidentally also Uskova’s publisher) stopped sales of Sorokin’s book.

On Channel One, Uskova reiterated her dissatisfaction with Sorokin’s work (Shugaeva cheerfully responded, “It’s a good thing that I don’t know who Sorokin is!”) and suggested creating a Union of Information Consumers under the auspices of the ONF, to assess books before their release. With Shugaeva supporting the initiative, a post soon appeared on Uskova’s Telegram channel announcing that the TV host will become the head of NESPI (People’s Unified Union of Information Consumers).

Shugaeva’s actions closely align with the aspirations of her husband, suggests a source at a Russian publishing house. “Novikov is part of the presidential administration. They believe books fall under his remit.” In recent months, Russia has banned not only Sorokin’s Heritage, but also Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life, Michael Cunningham’s A Home at the End of the World, and several other works. Criminal cases have also been initiated against writers openly supporting Ukraine, such as Boris Akunin.

Young director

The staging of Verdi’s Requiem in Moscow — whose libretto Novikov controversially translated into Russian — isn’t the official’s first production.

“I always knew, from around the age of 12, that I would direct operas,” he confessed in an interview with the National News Service. He attributes his passion to a cello teacher who once gave him tickets to see Ivan Susanin at the Nizhny Novgorod State Academic Opera and Ballet Theater when he was a teenager. From then on, he began going to the theater, located just “two tram stops away” from his home, every day.

His opera debut occurred in 2015. At the time, the 38-year-old Novikov’s application was selected for the Nano-Opera International Competition of Young Opera Directors, held bi-annually at the Helikon Opera Theater in association with the Moscow Department of Culture. Despite not reaching the final, Novikov received two special awards, including an internship at the Russian Institute of Theater Arts - GITIS (it is unclear if he completed it).

In the same year, Novikov was invited by a member of the competition jury to stage the opening concert of the SlovZov-Gala opera season in Krasnoyarsk, followed by Rusalka at the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow (coinciding with the anniversary of abortion legalization in Russia). From 2019, Novikov’s productions were staged in theaters across Moscow, St. Petersburg, Krasnoyarsk, Novosibirsk, Nizhny Novgorod, and at the Bolshoi Theater of Belarus.

Predominantly, these were operas by Tchaikovsky. Novikov significantly altered the plot of Eugene Onegin: removing the duel between the main character and Lensky and transforming the scene of Tatiana’s confession into a meeting between an investigator and a petitioner begging to dismiss a criminal case. In The Oprichnik — an opera describing a period “that has never happened in our country’s history since,” according to Novikov — the official invited one of his sons, Nikita, to perform.

Novikov’s version of Iolanta entered the Royal Swedish Opera’s repertoire in 2021. The theater’s press department explained that the Helikon Opera’s guest staging of Iolanta, was arranged by former CEO Brigitta Svenden (she did not respond to our messages). The theater’s staff allegedly learned about Novikov’s primary occupation after the performances were completed. “After that, our theater ceased contact with both the Helikon Opera and Mr. Novikov,” the department added.

A well-known classical musician calls Novikov a “competent craftsman.” An opera critic, who has seen several of Novikov’s productions, agrees: “He has undoubtedly mastered his craft as an opera director. Clearly, he is well-versed in the best works and can create something in the same style, imitating without plagiarizing. However, he lacks the originality you expect from someone whose productions you would want to watch.”

An opera performer who worked with Novikov speaks of him more favorably: “Despite working in a completely different field, he is absolutely professional and talented as a director.” According to him, Novikov is “so fanatical” that he controls even the smallest details. “Sergey Gennadyevich was always present, even standing backstage during premieres,” the source says. “He gave guidance and recorded video greetings.”

The official himself claims that he conducts rehearsals in his free time — either late in the evening or during vacations. “Opera as a genre,” Novikov said in his interview, “fits perfectly into this paradigm of statehood. Because this art genre promotes Russia and our values much better than other achievements.”

Novikov’s superior, Kiriyenko, “is not noted for his love of opera.” However, other officials — not only from the presidential administration, but also governors — frequently attend his premieres. “Novikov is a socialite,” explains his acquaintance, “he loves hosting people at his events.”

As Novikov told the National News Service, his colleagues usually respond “positively” to his productions (but what is said behind the scenes is unknown). However, he noted, “there are many technical means” by which to gauge “audience opinions.” When the journalist suggested that Novikov uses the social media monitoring program Katyusha (which is actively used by the presidential administration, for example, to compile blacklists of artists and musicians speaking out against the war), Novikov categorically denied it: “I don’t have Katyusha, I have Yandex and Google.”

Back in the day, Sergey Novikov decided not to study opera directing — it was “a time of hunger,” he explained, “children needed to be fed.” But he does not regret his decision.

“My main profession now involves constant communication with directors, performers, and conductors,” he explained. “It’s just that I’m more like a patron or producer. So, I am constantly in touch with the profession, but on the other side of the barricades.”

According to his acquaintance, Novikov, like Sharikov from Bulgakov’s Heart of a Dog, can smell out “ideological enemies” among artists and successfully combats them. A source in the music industry even refers to him as a “hunter.” Novikov’s hunting methods are sophisticated: he might casually joke about the Russian government in conversation and pause, waiting for the interlocutor’s reaction, say two sources in the theater industry. As a rule, artists and musicians try to ignore such remarks. “They are very afraid,” says the source.

Translated by Sasha Molotkova