08/04/2026
Floating head of a freedom thinker
Peter Shapiro, a prolific Russian-American sculptor, created two bronze portraits of Andrei Sakharov. The first was cast in 1989, the year Sakharov died. The second, only subtly different, was unveiled in Washington, DC, in April 2002 at the entrance to Russia House, 1800 Connecticut Avenue — a gift from the sculptor marking Congress's decision to posthumously grant Sakharov US citizenship. The first version remains in Moscow; the second, after standing at Russia House for two decades, disappeared from public view when the building closed in 2022.
By Sakharov's own account, and by the testimony of those fortunate enough to have known him, he was an optimist. As a theoretical physicist, he accepted that the future is undetermined and that many outcomes are possible — and from this he drew his faith in humanity's ability to answer the demands of reason. He liked to say, "Do as you must, and be what it may." And yet Shapiro chose to capture a sombre, almost tragic expression: the scientist supporting his drooping head in a moment of despair.
Perhaps, as is often the case with artists, Shapiro was projecting something of his own history. His mother, Nina Hollander, grew up in Brooklyn and held a degree from Columbia University; in 1932 she left Depression-era America for the Soviet Union in search of a better life. There she fell for a young pharmacist and perfume-maker, Yefim Shapiro, and the couple had two sons — Peter, born in Moscow in 1933, and Yuri. In 1938 the family was shattered: Yefim was arrested, and Nina herself vanished, held for two years in Moscow's prisons on suspicion of being an American spy. The boys were sent to an orphanage for "Children of Enemies of the People" and given a new surname to erase their past, until an uncle managed to get them out. Yefim returned from the camps in 1948 only to be rearrested almost at once; he did not come home for good until 1954, the year after Stalin's death — and by then he rarely spoke at all. Nina lived out her life as a Soviet citizen, having had to give up her American passport to be allowed to travel; she died in 1984. That cancelled passport became her son's unlikely inheritance.
In the years that followed, Shapiro built a long career as a Soviet sculptor, working across a wide range of subjects, from military and cultural figures to, eventually, Sakharov himself. After the Soviet collapse, alarmed by the resurgence of antisemitism and the rise of ultranationalist politics, Shapiro used his mother's old passport to reclaim American citizenship and relocate to the United States. His work can now be found not only across the former Soviet Union, but in Greece, Iceland, and the US, where he spent his final years.