Petr Pavlensky: why I nailed my scrotum to Red Square

On a snowless but chilly afternoon early in the Moscow winter, a 29-year-old man with a gaunt, emaciated face stepped on to the vast expanse of Red Square. He made his way to a spot on the cobblestones not far from the marble mausoleum housing the waxy corpse of┬áVladimir Lenin, and began to undress. In […]