The gilded doors of opera star Anna Netrebko's residence may soon swing open—not for champagne-soaked soirées, but for clipboard-toting inspectors. Like an unwelcome intermission in a tragic opera, St. Petersburg's October District Court has greenlit utility workers' entry into her riverside flat, armed with measuring tapes and bureaucratic suspicion.
This judicial overture began last year when district authorities, playing the role of meticulous stage directors, demanded scrutiny of alleged "architectural improvisations" behind the prima donna's walls. The court's verdict? A monthly penalty of 20,000 rubles—a financial staccato for every delayed compliance—plus a 6,000-ruble "curtain call fee" to the city coffers.
Real estate whispers suggest the dispute centers on her apartment along Printers' Union Street, where officials suspect someone rearranged the libretto of load-bearing walls. While Netrebko's team remains silent, legal experts note such cases often hinge on:
As bailiffs prepare their master keys, the saga echoes a timeless refrain: even divas must dance to the rhythm of bureaucracy, their high notes no match for the bassline of housing codes.