More than a hobby

For as long as I’ve worked in media, I’ve been a filmmaker. 

Over 8 years, I’ve solely dedicated my filmmaking to Ukraine. This passion stems from my childhood — my grandparents, Baba and Dido, were Ukrainian immigrants, and proud ones at that. That passion rubbed off on me, even after they passed away. 

It’s quite a hard thing to do — to juggle such a time-intensive and sometimes emotionally challenging hobby with a full-time career. I hate to call it a hobby too, as it feels like such a defining aspect of my life rather than just something I do for fun. I’ll explain why. 

When the global headlines kicked off about Ukraine, Crimea, MH17, and the still ongoing fighting in Donbas, I had this compulsion I couldn’t get rid of. I had to go and see for myself. Was it really that bad? Why was no one else talking about it anymore? So, since 2016, I’ve been back and forth from Ukraine, finding gaps where I can in my media roles to go and film some short documentaries. 

My first films were under the project name ‘War Mothers’, and I spent time with the mothers of Ukraine, looking at how their lives had changed during Russia’s war since 2014. You often hear about what is happening with the soldiers and the warfare, but what about their mothers? Some were on the frontline, some were volunteers, but all of them were linked to what was happening. 

I filmed two War Mothers films, and it was an incredibly emotional process. I lived in the volunteer centres in Zaporizhia, run almost exclusively by mothers, and visited the frontlines in Donbas. The last shot of my first film is one of the mothers, Galina, who stopped her van in the warzone on her way to the frontline to drop off supplies. It was the dead of winter, and we were surrounded by a beautiful snowy valley. To my surprise, Galina got out her portable speaker and a bottle of cognac, played some old 1930s Ukrainian ballads, and danced with her fellow volunteers. Despite the dangerous and extraordinary conditions, Galina wanted to celebrate the work they were doing. It was a poignant moment in my life. 

My dedication to Ukrainian storytelling continues today, as I work on the finishing touches of my third Ukrainian short documentary, The Way Home, a story inspired by my grandparents. It tells the story of Maxim, a cucumber farmer and family man in 1930s Ukraine. Maxim refused Stalin’s order that turned all private farmland into government property, so he was arrested and sent to a Siberian labour camp. Maxim knew he’d die if he stayed, so he escaped, and made the perilous journey home, walking over 1000km via the train tracks he was sent on. His journey home represents Ukraine’s current fight for survival. 

In 2023, I returned to Ukraine, however this time, I stayed in the relatively safer confines of Kyiv and Lviv with my extended family. For the first time, I witnessed that the war had reached a major city. Previously, it was in the far east of the country. Major shopping centres had been bombed, there were military checkpoints everywhere, and the haunting air raid siren went off multiple times a day. What was most unsettling was that the war was now making its way to my relatives. 

When I started this work in 2016, I wanted to raise awareness about WHAT was happening in Ukraine. Now, with everyone hopefully aware of what’s happening, I want to educate everyone on WHY it’s happening. What we are witnessing now is a trend with Russia in Ukraine that stems back centuries. 

The greatest problem is, if Russia prevails, it will not bring peace and harmony to Ukraine. It will be hell on earth for Ukrainians — full of intimidation, oppression, totalitarianism, punishment, and ultimately, mass deaths. Any sign of Ukrainian identity will be punished. For a country that so strongly loves who they are, this is the cruelest abuse. 

I’m incredibly grateful and lucky that Private Media supports my projects and my passion for Ukrainian stories, and I think it’s the type of workplace that is generally supportive of these kinds of endeavours. I admire anyone who pursues a passion outside of their career. For me, I look at it like physical exercise. If you don’t set time for it, you’re risking big problems for your body. The same goes with filmmaking (or for others, whatever their passion may be), if I don’t set aside time for it,  I’m risking my sense of wellbeing. Whilst it takes considerable time and emotional energy, I feel at greater peace with myself if I can contribute in my small way to Ukraine. 

Stefan’s second short film “War Mothers” had a world premiere at the 2019 Tribeca Film Festival in New York to critical acclaim. It was one of 63 short films from a total of over 5,000 submitted to the festival. You can check it out here.