“Is this really a bummer?”
In late 2001, the grand hall of a renowned Philharmonic venue in a populous Russian city filled with young fans. Their hair tied back in various styles, some wearing necklaces that read “Vivat Anarchia,” moved through the space as a new album for the country, Like in an Old Tale, was released. The track Cursed Old House seemed unusually smooth and almost too emotional for longtime followers of the band.
“Is this really a bummer?” one might wonder, while a laser-embroidered sheepskin from that winter is crumpled in a hand. The cloakroom, tired of empty hangers, refused to accept more clothes, noting that time would be tight and the place would close by 21:00.
“And it’s definitely punk?” asked the organizers of the Punk Culture exhibition, reflecting on the identity of the King and the Clown. If this inquiry weren’t tied to punk suspicion, the statement itself wouldn’t exist. The project examines punk’s essence and its stereotypes of destruction and toilets, highlighting the DIY ethos that lies at its heart. It invites people to do it themselves, without brands or authorities—no gods, no masters.
The exhibition format invites visitors to trace punk culture from its origins to the present, to understand its philosophy, and to see how those who shaped the movement turned it into rich, fantastical worlds. The curators expanded beyond the band to explore punk culture itself, while preserving a franchise approach to content across media, from television to music, from exhibitions to symphonic performances.
Staging the exhibition this way was meant to reveal punk culture in full, not just the band’s story, and to present it as a living, evolving movement across multiple art forms.
“Mishuta, help me”
A number of works featured in the exhibition were donated by the artist’s mother, Tatyana Ivanovna. She attended the event with a bag containing school notebooks, a homemade comic titled Game of the Gods, her son’s drawings, magazines, and early publications about the King and the Clown, effectively making the event her own intimate showcase.
According to her account, initial displays included letters from fans of the rock figure, but they were removed to preserve anonymity for the young women who confessed their affection. She notes that there are plenty of artifacts from her son’s belongings to fill a truck, underscoring the vast personal archive involved.
When asked about her favorite exhibit, she smiles and chats conspiratorially. She searches through her bag, then laughs and says, “When I can’t find something, I say: ‘Okay Mishuta, please help me.’ Now he has no obligation here, so he assists everyone; perhaps you can try it too.” She then pulls from her bag a ballpoint pen drawing depicting rookie punks entering a rock club.
Some of the newcomers once practiced in a home studio, layering three guitars and a drum kit into a single room. By eleven, the chaos would erupt into the kitchen for a feeding break, with cutlets waiting on the stove. One child, Misha, would exclaim with dramatic flair, “Mom, what are you doing?!” before proudly declaring, “You will still be proud of me!”
The series The King and the Fool topped Kinopoisk for eight weeks, and the band’s songs dominated Yandex Music for nine months. The collector notes that a fresh wave of interest is visible, even among younger fans visiting the cemetery for autographs on the grave of Gorshenev, a testament to the enduring energy of the movement. One voice reflects: half the fans seem to be children now, who sing for autographs and bring a sense of energy, myth, and a touch of fright to the experience. Home environments still echo with Tchaikovsky and Chopin, yet the call to rock remains strong.
Upcoming, on November 12, there is a premiere for the next tour through the universe of the group, a symphonic show titled Punk Fairytale King and the Clown, scheduled for St. Petersburg. This event promises a broader exploration of the band’s world and its influence.
St. Petersburg version
Bringing the exhibition to St. Petersburg was seen as essential, given the city’s punk heritage. Curators for the St. Petersburg show included a music critic and radio host, a renowned art critic, a producer known as Punker, Andrei Knyazev, and a video director and photographer, among others. The display gathers items from punk icons and prints by Jamie Reid, the artist behind famous Sex Pistols artwork, as part of a broader historical arc.
New to the St. Petersburg show are personal items from Knyazev and Gorshenev. Painted shirts from the early days, the atmosphere of the legendary Leningrad club TamTam, and a recreated studio interior shaped by the widow of a notable figure are all part of the exhibit. Guitars branded with stickers and the studio’s window view contribute to a sense of authenticity. A VR room offers a 360-degree clip of a band hit, realized through a cinematic set created by the series’ stars, while a punk canteen at the exit tempts visitors with bold, purposeful menu choices that reflect the DIY spirit and a playful nod to the era’s iconography.
Punk as a chance to make your own rules
Last year, St. Petersburg also saw significant momentum with a touring exhibition about a locally important creator, highlighting differences from the Moscow edition. The show expanded to host large-scale installations in a space that allowed more ambitious displays than those possible in earlier venues.
At the conclusion of The King and the Fool, a cyber tree visualization for the song The Gathering symbolized how old friends reconnect under a shared tree, and how the group continues to exist despite physical dispersion. The curator also points to the city’s art districts, where new and unexpected works appear, including pieces that blend past influences with contemporary experimentation. Among the standout, the two DIY district teddy bears — one from London, the other from Russia — capture the playful, rebellious spirit of punk: a reminder that DIY is about shaping the world to fit one’s own vision. Beyond stylish garments, records, and adult fare, these exhibits convey a gentle, unexpected warmth that resonates with fans and newcomers alike.
So why discuss punk in 2023, decades after its heyday, when the central figures are aging? The curator replies that the conversation about punk is a conversation about creativity and freedom, a lens through which to view potential beyond conventional rules.
The memory of Viktor Tsoi’s romantic partner, Natalya Razlogova, is recalled as an illustration of the era’s climate. In the USSR, freedom required bending the system—finding a path outside the prescribed roles of work, payments, and social duties. True freedom, the narrative goes, emerges when one can write new rules and pursue creativity without constraint. This perspective continues to fuel fresh, powerful impulses in art and culture.
Agnia Sterligova, an architect and founder of Planet9, emphasizes that punk is about creativity and autonomy more than rebellion alone. The St. Petersburg show reflects this ethos, presenting an expanded program that foregrounds contemporary installations and a younger audience while honoring the tradition that made punk a conduit for individual expression.