A young woman believed to be the daughter of Russian President Vladimir Putin has ignited a storm of controversy in the Paris art world, after it emerged she was working at a gallery known for exhibiting anti-war artists — including opponents of her alleged father’s war on Ukraine.
Elizaveta Krivonogikh, 22 — also known as Elizaveta Rudnova or Luiza Rozova — has been working as an intern at Studio Albatros and L Galerie in Paris’s Belleville neighborhood, a vibrant hub for artists and musicians. Her presence, confirmed by gallery officials, has divided opinion among Russian émigrés and Ukrainian artists who have found refuge in France since Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine.
Many in the local artistic community were unaware of Rudnova’s identity until a public Facebook post by Nastya Rodionova, a Russian performance artist and war refugee, revealed her background. Rodionova, who has exhibited at the same venues, said she felt compelled to speak out upon learning that the young woman interning at the gallery may be a direct beneficiary of the regime she and others have fled.
“I believe in the presumption of innocence and that children are not responsible for the crimes of their parents,” Rodionova wrote. “But with the war reaching its heights, it is inadmissible to allow a person who comes from a family of beneficiaries of [Putin’s] regime to come into confrontation with the victims of that regime.”
Art and Ancestry Collide
Rudnova is widely believed to be the daughter of Svetlana Krivonogikh, a former cleaner who became a millionaire shareholder in Bank Rossiya — a financial institution sanctioned by the UK in 2023 for its links to the Kremlin. Investigative reports have long alleged that Krivonogikh had a relationship with Vladimir Putin in the early 2000s and gave birth to Elizaveta in 2003. Neither Putin nor Rudnova has confirmed the relationship, and the Kremlin has dismissed such reports as “gutter press.”
Yet the young woman’s striking resemblance to the Russian president — and her sudden disappearance from social media after once flaunting a glamorous lifestyle — has fueled speculation. In a past interview, Rudnova said the attention she received following the revelations “lit up” her online presence and helped her “get out of a rut.”
In Paris, her low-profile role at the gallery included coordinating with artists and producing videos. Some colleagues and members of the gallery association have spoken in her defense.
“She is a cultured person, a dedicated worker,” said Dmitry Dolinsky, 54, director of L Association, which oversees both venues. “We can’t confirm that she is Putin’s daughter. She looks like Putin, but so do 100,000 other people.”
He added, “Even if hypothetically she is his daughter, should we shoot her like the Romanovs? We are not recruiting the mothers.”
Tensions Among Exiled Artists
Others in the Paris art scene are less forgiving. Belleville is home to many artists who fled Putin’s Russia or the violence in Ukraine, and there is unease about sharing spaces with someone potentially tied to the Kremlin elite.
“There’s a deep trauma here,” said one Ukrainian painter who asked to remain anonymous. “It’s not about guilt by association, but about transparency and sensitivity. People have lost family, friends, their homes. The idea of working alongside someone possibly linked to the top of that chain is hard to stomach.”
Another member of L Association, Sacha Vichnevski, dismissed accusations that the gallery might be Kremlin-linked. “Since the invasion, we’ve never exhibited pro-Russian work. We are against the war, but we are a cultural organization, not a political one.”
Still, the controversy underscores the ongoing challenges faced by Russian émigrés trying to reinvent themselves abroad while navigating the burden of national identity — especially when it comes with powerful family ties.
A Shadowy Legacy
Officially, President Putin has two daughters, Maria and Katerina, from his marriage to Lyudmila Putina, whom he divorced in 2014. More recently, he has been rumored to have fathered two sons with former Olympic gymnast Alina Kabaeva, but no public acknowledgment has ever been made.
In contrast, Elizaveta Krivonogikh has existed in a murky gray area of unofficial family history — living in the shadow of Putin’s legacy while, some argue, seeking to carve her own identity in exile.
For now, her future in the Paris art world remains uncertain, as the city’s cultural institutions grapple with the question: how do you balance personal redemption against political responsibility?
