One of the most notable literary controversies of the autumn was Lev Danilkin’s book “Palazzo Madamy”, published by Alpina Non-Fiction. It is a biography of Irina Antonova, the longtime head of the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, who led the institution from 1961 to 2013. The publication provoked a sharp and divided response: some saw it as an important examination of a person and an era, while others viewed it as an attack on a legendary museum director.
Danilkin portrays Antonova as a figure who both shaped the modern reputation of the Pushkin Museum and built a rigid management system. Under her leadership, the museum expanded the display of original works, developed international exhibitions, placed Russian art within a global context, and strengthened its standing as a major cultural center. It was during this period that the permanent display received the key Shchukin and Morozov collection, and the museum itself became for many a symbol of cultural freedom in the late Soviet period.
One of the book’s central storylines concerns trophy art taken from Germany after the war. The author writes that Antonova long concealed the existence of these collections, yet documents found in the museum archive show that even before the open scandal of the late 1980s she had proposed making them public, but her initiative was blocked by senior authorities. After that, the book suggests, she carried out the state’s decision.
The most painful responses, however, were prompted by testimony from former staff members. In the book, Antonova is described as a leader who would not tolerate dissent and who maintained an atmosphere of fear. The author’s interlocutors recall shouting, humiliation of subordinates, and a management style that kept the staff divided. At the same time, many of them acknowledge her stature, work ethic, and ability to secure nearly impossible results for the museum.
The debate around the book quickly moved beyond one biography. It touched on broader issues: attitudes toward the Soviet cultural myth, the habit of justifying cruelty by invoking a higher mission, and the cult of the outstanding individual, which in art appears as worship of “genius,” and in society as deference to bosses and state power.