A new Cold War is unfolding between the West and Russia and it is spreading to the genteel world of classical music in a way the previous one did not. Russian artists, especially those that have refused to denounce Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, are rarely seen on Western stages anymore.

This summer I attended several Prom performances in London. As every year, the world’s largest classical-music festival has put on a phenomenal range of repertoire, ensembles and soloists. I heard Richard Strauss’s Alpine Symphony performed by the BBC Symphony Orchestra under Sakari Oramo (you can hear the recording here). I heard the BBC Philharmonic, conducted by Anja Bihlmaier and with soloist Tobias Feldmann, perform Beethoven’s Violin Concerto. I also heard something unusual in the august world of professional music-making: an orchestra and conductor that, at times, struggled to stay together, both among themselves and with the soloist. Such was the case when the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra under conductor Gemma New performed Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream and, with soloist Anthony McGill, Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto.

Each time, the audience of several thousand features lots of newcomers to the world of classical music. That’s the Proms at its best: offering music at a high level, while also attracting people who may never have attended a classical-music performance before – a significant, ever-growing number. The Proms are an indispensable institution, not to mention a lovely way of spending summer evenings in London.

This summer’s Proms have also featured another aspect: geopolitics. Nobody made any political speeches, and nobody has railed against authoritarian regimes seeking to destabilise countries like the UK. Such salvos would have been entirely inappropriate, too, because classical music is supposed to only be about the sublime music being performed. Indeed, classical music is one of few areas where people from every country convene to collaborate (and do so with sublime results), regardless of actions by their home governments.

In recent months an undeniable development has become clear: there are fewer Russian artists and ensembles on Western stages. This summer’s Proms feature the cellist Anastasia Kobekina (performing Antonin Dvorak’s Cello Concerto) and the pianist Denis Kozhukhin. Both have criticised Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Unsurprisingly, the Proms haven’t invited Russian artists who support the war – such as the conductor Valery Gergiev. But Western concert halls seem to be going further than not inviting supporters of Russia’s war: they also seem wary of Russian artists who have said nothing about it.

That’s understandable, since these days appearances by Russian artists are likely to raise eyebrows and may even lead to protests in connection with the performance. Steering clear of Russian performers is also, one might argue, a matter of human decency: the West’s finest concert halls should not be hosting people who implicitly condone a war of aggression. Immediately after the invasion, I argued that imposing a blanket ban on Russian artists would be a mistake. My point, which still stands, is that imposing a collective ban on Russians should mean doing the same on Chinese performers (since their government brutally oppresses the people of Xinjiang and Tibet) and, indeed, artists from every autocracy and dictatorship. Would every one of us denounce our government’s actions if we had the misfortune of living under a dictatorship? I doubt it. By the same token, we should not expect such moral fortitude from others.

During the Cold War, Western concert halls didn’t expect musicians from the Warsaw Pact to voice opinions about the dictatorships ruling their home countries. When masters such as Emil Gilels, Sviatoslav Richter, David Oistrakh and Peter Schreier emerged, heavily monitored by minders, from behind the Iron Curtain, Western music-lovers congregated to enjoy their artistry. Asking them to comment on the rulers back home would have meant asking them to volunteer for a prison stay.

The post-Cold War days, though, have brought greater liberty to Russians, not to mention their fellow Warsaw Pact citizens, who are now firmly part of the Western camp. To be sure, in today’s Russia there’s a price to be paid for those who criticise the government: lost engagements, lost jobs, even imprisonment. But top Russian musicians can condemn the Ukraine war from the safety of a foreign country. Indeed, true opponents of the Kremlin can easily receive foreign visas on humanitarian grounds. The longer the Ukraine war goes on, the more obvious it is that every Russian ought to oppose it – especially those with opportunities to leave the country.

It is disappointing that so few Russian musicians have found it within themselves to speak out against the war, and it’s disappointing that this means we don’t get to enjoy their often-extraordinary musicianship the way we used to. The large-scale absence of one of the world’s musical superpowers from Western concert stages means a drop in quality. This is the new Cold War.