Jun 20, 2025
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Zhan Petrov: A New Voice in Improv Film from Ukraine
by Doniphan Blair
Zhan Petrov shooting the motorcyclist racing across the prairie for 'Center Divide', circa 2021. photo: K. BarskayaPLEASE support our GoFundMe campaign to cover research expenses for our articles and rebuilding the cineSOURCE site.
UKRAINE IS MUCH IN THE NEWS THESE
days, tragically, given Russia’s murderous invasion, but we are well advised to also take note of its culture and people. Indeed, Ukraine has a long tradition of avant-garde art, starting with the Jewish writer Isaac Babel (1894-1940), with more coming now, as Ukraine leads the pro-democracy movement worldwide. A person exemplifying this is Zhan Petrov, whose journey is marked by resilience, innovation and bold filmmaking, largely in the Bay Area.
Born in 1992, in Odessa, a crossroads of empires and revolutions, known to many of us through Babel’s “Odessa Stories” (1923), Zhan also hails from an artistic family. His great-grandmother, a National Academy of Music piano teacher, may have known Babel, while his grandfather became a jazz trumpeter in Odessa’s many dive bars, and then on the tourist ships that used to frequent its Black Sea port. Zhan’s father liked to show avant-garde French films, in the back yard on an old 16mm projector, hence his name, Zhan, which is Ukrainian for Jean, as in Jean Luc Goddard.
Zhan (right) at a birthday party, 1994. photo: Petrov FamilyZhan’s first love was basketball, and he started on two of Odessa’s top high school teams, but he eventually followed his grandfather to sea. Sailoring led to a lifelong interest in the people he met in ports throughout the world. One vivid memory Zhan told me about was from Port Harcourt, Nigeria, where he befriended a hard-working stevedore by sneaking him a bowl of soup. Unfortunately, that was forbidden and his new friend was beaten by a policeman. Tragically, when Zhan moved to intervene, his friend said, “No, it would make things worse.”
Two years after Ukraine’s pro-democracy revolution in 2014, and Russia’s invasion of Crimea, which is near Odessa, Zhan and his family emigrated to California. Zhan began studying film at De Anza College, in Cupertino, the heart of Silicon Valley, where he translated skills learned at sea, dealing with all sorts of people and situations, to making movies.
Immigrating to a new country and becoming a filmmaker are not easy tasks, especially in the professionally crowded and competitive Bay Area. Moreover, Zhan had to support himself. He started working construction a few weeks after arrival alongside seasoned Mexicans then as an Uber driver and finally chauffering a limousine, replete with uniform. A grinding routine, he often showed up to classes wasted, after driving an eight-hour shift or a night of editing.
Zhan working as a seaman, Morocco. photo: Z. PetrovOne formative experience, Zhan said, was an improv class where students invented dialogue, which often produced more honest performances, he noticed. Another was his teacher Milena Grozeva, who was also a working editor, notably on “Presque Isle” (2008), by Bay Area indie legend Rob Nilsson. Indeed, Grozeva introduced Zhan to Nilsson’s films and philosophy, called “direct action cinema,” and then Nilsson himself. She also recommended John Cassavetes, the alternative Hollywood filmmaker who was Nilsson’s mentor, the Danish Dogme group, and a cinematic worldview valuing authenticity over polish which Zhan made his own.
“If the shot is too clean, too staged—it’s not me,” Zhan told me, “I want you to feel the sweat, the stress, the surprise. That’s where the truth lives.”
Indeed, his graduation thesis film, "Love Funeral" (2021), combined his diverse studies and influences into a highly original film, which featured chaotic relationships and aggressive filmmaking. “It was entirely unique,” according to actor and writer Don Bajema, who appeared in the Morgan Freeman vehicle “High Crimes” (2002) as well as many Nilsson projects. “All in one long shot over a period of one hour and 13 minutes.” See its trailer or full film.
Poster for Zhan's debut feature, 'Love Funeral', shot simultaneously with cell phones, shown simultaneously on a screen divided in four. photo: Z. PetrovInspired by Mike Figgis’s “Time Code” (2000), which used multiple cameras starting at the same time, Zhan filmed "Love Funeral" with four cell phones, in one continuous shot, which he showed simultaneously, on a screen divided into four, with overlapping dialogue. The setting is a Gen Z party with Hip-Hop music blasting, people drinking and smoking and everyone on their phones, either recording the party for social media or messaging someone outside of it. As the characters flip between speaking Russian, Ukrainian and English, it soon spirals out of control. By the end, relationships are in ruins; lovers have stormed off; and the place is a wreck. “Often torturous to look at,” remarked Nilsson, after viewing an early cut.
Zhan provided his actors with character and script outlines, but all dialogue and action was improvised. Using guerrilla-style filmmaking and innovative production techniques, he created a striking first feature reminiscent of Cassavete’s debut, “Shadows” (1959). Although it didn’t reach a mass audience, it still proved you don’t need a big crew or budget to provoke discussions or feelings. "Love Funeral" had a few screenings in the Bay Area, which established Zhan's reputation as an imaginative risk-taker, and won a few awards, including the Globe Award from the Berlin International Film Festival.
After his introduction by Professor Grozeva, Nilsson invited Zhan to shoot his upcoming film, "Center Divide" (2021), in Northern California’s gorgeous and sparsely populated Modoc County. Zhan was thrown into the deep end of low budget cinema, replete with unpredictable shooting conditions, improvised solutions and bumfuck America. He also did the film’s drone shots, which gave him a feeling for the terrain.
When “Center Divide” premiered at Marin County’s Mill Valley Film Festival, in 2021, since Zhan had also become the film's editor, he had to manage digital files and troubleshoot technical glitches as well as do his first Q and A with an audience. “Hearing from the festival-goers and critics helped me develop a better understanding of what it takes to engage an audience,” Zhan told me.
"Faultline" (2022), his second film for Nilsson, was even more ambitious, given its larger cast, politically-touchy topic and short shooting schedule, only 16 days, also in Modoc County.
Zhan took on additional production responsibilities and one incident became legendary, after he lodged the entire 20-person cast and crew at a motel, payment due on arrival. While filming a sunset scene outside a bar, however, he was informed that some hunters had arrived, cash in hand, and rented those eight rooms. With daylight fading, Zhan leapt action. After calling every motel, lodge and B&B within 30 miles, he secured housing for everyone by midnight. “Although that left me only few hours of sleep before the dawn call,” Zhan told me, “I learned more about the nuts and bolts of film than any film class.”
Zhan's three year old daughter, Charlotte. photo: K. Barskaya"Faultline" also tested him privately. As it happened, his romantic partner, Klarissa Barskaya, was also in the film, playing an Odessa art gallery owner, and helping with production. The intensity of the work brought them closer, so much so, she became pregnant—yet another unscripted moment that proved successful. At the premier of “Faultline” at the Mill Valley Festival the following year, Zhan watched the movie with Klarissa and their infant daughter, Charlotte.
After "Faultline" garnered positive attention in the Bay Area’s independent film community, Zhan earned accolades. “Zhan could capture moments on camera, as if each frame could stand alone, a painting with visual composition and meaning,” I was told by Don Bajema, who played the film's lead, a man searching for his father.
Film critics also took notice: “A chronicle of seekers and desperados on the move, 'Center Divide' is unsettlingly contemporaneous,” according to Berkeleyside, a Bay Area news website (10/7/2021). Nilsson praised Zhan’s work on both his films as well as Zhan's thesis film, "Love Funeral", in an article for Senses of Cinema, “The Black and White Epic No Budget Digital Feature Film.”
Inspired by Nilsson’s "9@Night Films Cycle", which was shot with marginalized people in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district, Zhan decided to attempt a project in the same neighborhood. Along with his film and acting crew, Anastasia Shubina, Timofey Glin, and Konstantin Kodincev, he walked the streets, cameras blazing, hoping to document reality faithfully. Unfortunately, San Francisco’s old whorehouse district is a much wilder place today, with brazen thieves and crazed drug addicts, some zonked out on "flakka," the so-called zombie drug.
Having done street shoots in similar places, Zhan knew the rules: be respectful, stop filming if someone protests, and put away the camera or leave, if the situation gets tense. Indeed, to avoid drawing attention, they shot with iPhones. Unfortunately, while filming a group of homeless men one night, another group emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley.
“Who the fuck you filming?” one shouted.
Zhan and Rob Nilsson, his mentor and now partner, editing 'Fault LIne' in 2022. photo: S. BlairZhan tried to explain they were documenting the neighborhood for an art project, but the man threw a punch, striking him in the face, while another shoved his crew members, and a third broke or stole their iPhones.
It was in that moment, when his face covered with blood, Zhan told me, somewhat sheepishly, that he felt the full impact of the filmmaker on their environment. While trying to document the streets' reality, he had collided with it, a sobering realization. When he continued that project, “How I See”, Zhan hired a local "guide”, who knew the community.
Zhan’s “Hyde Street Incident” became a test of his dedication to the immersive principle absorbed from Nilsson. The most authentic storytelling often comes with personal investment and risk. Indeed, the footage he recovered from the smashed phones added important meaning to the film.
Zhan’s next project was perhaps to be expected: a documentary about Nilsson, entitled "The Way Things Seem To Be" (see trailer). A comprehensive, four-hour look at Nilsson’s life, art, and philosophy, it is a massive undertaking that has already spanned two years. Instead of a conventional biography, he is going for an immersive portrait, much like Nilsson’s own films. Rather than list achievements or have talking heads spouting praising panegyrics, Zhan hopes to show feelings and process, the behind-the-scenes moments, although he also did many interviews with Nilsson, his actors and crew and some film critics.
In addition, Zhan dug through Nilsson’s archives: 45 feature films, numerous short films, unpublished scripts, poetry notebooks, paintings (Nilsson is also a painter) and essays, eventually accruing more than 200 terabytes of data, an enormous amount. A key element is explaining Direct Action Cinema. Although Nilsson occasionally uses scripts, he rejects traditional ones and works off of the notion of full improvisation in reaction to real settings. He mostly uses amateur actors but occasionally enlists a seasoned professional from LA, including Stacy Keach, Ron Perlman and Robert Viharo. Nilsson's first step is to bring the actors together in a workshop and do relaxation, concentration and expression exercises. After a week or two of this, and discussions of his script outline, detailed and motivated characters and stories emerge.
Zhan and Rob attend a showing of Rob's film 'Northern Lights' at the New York Film Festival in 2024. photo: Z. PetrovZhan directed, shot and edited the documentary, called "The Way Things Seem To Be", worked with sound engineer extraordinaire Al Nelson to produce an excellent final mix, and began sending it out to peers and a few festival programmers, after it was finished in February 2025.
“Zhan directed this project with remarkable skill, blending cinéma vérité with a deeply immersive storytelling approach,” was the opinion of Bobby Roth, who directed “Prison Break” (2013) and television episodes in the “Lost” and “Grey’s Anatomy” shows. John Hanson, who was Nilsson’s co-director on their breakthrough film "Northern Lights" (1978), said, “Zhan seamlessly wove together scenes from Nilsson’s films with personal testimonials and context. I think the film will be important in gaining wider recognition for Nilsson’s contributions to independent cinema.”
"The Way Things Seem To Be" was an achievement that not only honored his mentor but established Zhan as a documentary as well narrative filmmaker. Indeed, the film celebrates independent cinema—the risks, the art, and the surrounding community—at a time when these voices risk being drowned out by blockbuster franchises and algorithm-driven content, making it both a tribute and a call to action.
Another highlight of their collaboration was a special event at the 2024 New York Film Festival, where Nilsson and Hanson’s "Northern Lights" screened as part of a special revival. After traveling to New York, they were wined and dined before attending two sold-out screenings at Lincoln Center. The audience was a mix of older cinephiles and younger festival-goers curious to see an example of 1970s independent cinema, a black-and-white depiction of North Dakota farmers organizing against the banks in 1915, which has renewed relevance now.
At the post-screening Q&A, Zhan remarked from the audience, “The film’s concluding lines, ‘Things are going to change, I’m sure of it, I’ve got time I can wait’ represent my faith in the future.”
In addition to his Nilsson documentary, Zhan is also the mastermind behind “Rob Nilsson Art Forms”, a new, innovative combination of website, art gallery and film site. Indeed, it is both a digital archive and distribution platform for Nilsson’s films, paintings, poetry, and writings as well as forum where new independent projects can also be incubated. They have been developing this with Anubhav Ashok, a tech expert previously at Google who now runs Ask.Videos, and Ilya Fomin, a lead engineer at YouTube Live, who did the coding.
Zhan in 2024. photo: Z. PetrovNevertheless, it remains a organic, DIY project. Even at the Lincoln Center show, Nilsson and Zhan were standing outside, handing out flyers for “Rob Nilsson Art Forms.” Although that was an unusual sight in this digital and dislocated age, they are both advocates of the theory that to keep independent cinema alive, one has to directly engage the audience, one person at a time if necessary. They also hosted a talk about the future of independent cinema. While the streaming era has made distribution and promotion easier, it often buries independent films and favors algorithm-friendly content.
“Rob Nilsson Art Forms” also includes a 40-minute stand-alone film by Zhan, “Immersive Voyage”, a visual essay on the nature of creativity and Nilsson’s career. It highlights Zhan’s skills as an editor and emergence as a potent exponent of alternative filmmaking. Zhan just completed "Reserve Cameraman" with Ilya Fomin, a cinema verite, single-take film shot behind the scenes at a Las Vegas beauty pageant, which captures its chaotic mix of vanity, pressure, and vulnerability.
Every step of Zhan’s journey, from his ocean travels to improvising scenes in the Tenderloin’s streets or coordinating a large production, has equipped him to take on the future of film and continue a legacy of alternative film and innovation, fostering the ongoing conversation of the art across the generations.
He is also determined to use emotionally honest art to address the crisis of culture in societies turning towards authoritarianism, which he knows well. Indeed, he grew up with family members who endured the Soviet Union, some even the horrors of Stalinism. Naturally, he is extremely concerned with its modern iteration, Putin's Russia, its murderous invasion of Ukraine, and the fate of the people he left behind.
“It’s terrible,” Zhan told me. “I still have friends and close relatives in Odessa. Some of them are stuck. Some of them can’t get out. I worry every day.”
Posted on May 06, 2025 - 10:26 PM
by Doniphan Blair
Zhan Petrov shooting the motorcyclist racing across the prairie for 'Center Divide', circa 2021. photo: K. BarskayaUKRAINE IS MUCH IN THE NEWS THESE
days, tragically, given Russia’s murderous invasion, but we are well advised to also take note of its culture and people. Indeed, Ukraine has a long tradition of avant-garde art, starting with the Jewish writer Isaac Babel (1894-1940), with more coming now, as Ukraine leads the pro-democracy movement worldwide. A person exemplifying this is Zhan Petrov, whose journey is marked by resilience, innovation and bold filmmaking, largely in the Bay Area.
Born in 1992, in Odessa, a crossroads of empires and revolutions, known to many of us through Babel’s “Odessa Stories” (1923), Zhan also hails from an artistic family. His great-grandmother, a National Academy of Music piano teacher, may have known Babel, while his grandfather became a jazz trumpeter in Odessa’s many dive bars, and then on the tourist ships that used to frequent its Black Sea port. Zhan’s father liked to show avant-garde French films, in the back yard on an old 16mm projector, hence his name, Zhan, which is Ukrainian for Jean, as in Jean Luc Goddard.
Zhan (right) at a birthday party, 1994. photo: Petrov FamilyTwo years after Ukraine’s pro-democracy revolution in 2014, and Russia’s invasion of Crimea, which is near Odessa, Zhan and his family emigrated to California. Zhan began studying film at De Anza College, in Cupertino, the heart of Silicon Valley, where he translated skills learned at sea, dealing with all sorts of people and situations, to making movies.
Immigrating to a new country and becoming a filmmaker are not easy tasks, especially in the professionally crowded and competitive Bay Area. Moreover, Zhan had to support himself. He started working construction a few weeks after arrival alongside seasoned Mexicans then as an Uber driver and finally chauffering a limousine, replete with uniform. A grinding routine, he often showed up to classes wasted, after driving an eight-hour shift or a night of editing.
Zhan working as a seaman, Morocco. photo: Z. Petrov“If the shot is too clean, too staged—it’s not me,” Zhan told me, “I want you to feel the sweat, the stress, the surprise. That’s where the truth lives.”
Indeed, his graduation thesis film, "Love Funeral" (2021), combined his diverse studies and influences into a highly original film, which featured chaotic relationships and aggressive filmmaking. “It was entirely unique,” according to actor and writer Don Bajema, who appeared in the Morgan Freeman vehicle “High Crimes” (2002) as well as many Nilsson projects. “All in one long shot over a period of one hour and 13 minutes.” See its trailer or full film.
Poster for Zhan's debut feature, 'Love Funeral', shot simultaneously with cell phones, shown simultaneously on a screen divided in four. photo: Z. PetrovZhan provided his actors with character and script outlines, but all dialogue and action was improvised. Using guerrilla-style filmmaking and innovative production techniques, he created a striking first feature reminiscent of Cassavete’s debut, “Shadows” (1959). Although it didn’t reach a mass audience, it still proved you don’t need a big crew or budget to provoke discussions or feelings. "Love Funeral" had a few screenings in the Bay Area, which established Zhan's reputation as an imaginative risk-taker, and won a few awards, including the Globe Award from the Berlin International Film Festival.
After his introduction by Professor Grozeva, Nilsson invited Zhan to shoot his upcoming film, "Center Divide" (2021), in Northern California’s gorgeous and sparsely populated Modoc County. Zhan was thrown into the deep end of low budget cinema, replete with unpredictable shooting conditions, improvised solutions and bumfuck America. He also did the film’s drone shots, which gave him a feeling for the terrain.
When “Center Divide” premiered at Marin County’s Mill Valley Film Festival, in 2021, since Zhan had also become the film's editor, he had to manage digital files and troubleshoot technical glitches as well as do his first Q and A with an audience. “Hearing from the festival-goers and critics helped me develop a better understanding of what it takes to engage an audience,” Zhan told me.
"Faultline" (2022), his second film for Nilsson, was even more ambitious, given its larger cast, politically-touchy topic and short shooting schedule, only 16 days, also in Modoc County.
Zhan took on additional production responsibilities and one incident became legendary, after he lodged the entire 20-person cast and crew at a motel, payment due on arrival. While filming a sunset scene outside a bar, however, he was informed that some hunters had arrived, cash in hand, and rented those eight rooms. With daylight fading, Zhan leapt action. After calling every motel, lodge and B&B within 30 miles, he secured housing for everyone by midnight. “Although that left me only few hours of sleep before the dawn call,” Zhan told me, “I learned more about the nuts and bolts of film than any film class.”
Zhan's three year old daughter, Charlotte. photo: K. BarskayaAfter "Faultline" garnered positive attention in the Bay Area’s independent film community, Zhan earned accolades. “Zhan could capture moments on camera, as if each frame could stand alone, a painting with visual composition and meaning,” I was told by Don Bajema, who played the film's lead, a man searching for his father.
Film critics also took notice: “A chronicle of seekers and desperados on the move, 'Center Divide' is unsettlingly contemporaneous,” according to Berkeleyside, a Bay Area news website (10/7/2021). Nilsson praised Zhan’s work on both his films as well as Zhan's thesis film, "Love Funeral", in an article for Senses of Cinema, “The Black and White Epic No Budget Digital Feature Film.”
Inspired by Nilsson’s "9@Night Films Cycle", which was shot with marginalized people in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district, Zhan decided to attempt a project in the same neighborhood. Along with his film and acting crew, Anastasia Shubina, Timofey Glin, and Konstantin Kodincev, he walked the streets, cameras blazing, hoping to document reality faithfully. Unfortunately, San Francisco’s old whorehouse district is a much wilder place today, with brazen thieves and crazed drug addicts, some zonked out on "flakka," the so-called zombie drug.
Having done street shoots in similar places, Zhan knew the rules: be respectful, stop filming if someone protests, and put away the camera or leave, if the situation gets tense. Indeed, to avoid drawing attention, they shot with iPhones. Unfortunately, while filming a group of homeless men one night, another group emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley.
“Who the fuck you filming?” one shouted.
Zhan and Rob Nilsson, his mentor and now partner, editing 'Fault LIne' in 2022. photo: S. BlairIt was in that moment, when his face covered with blood, Zhan told me, somewhat sheepishly, that he felt the full impact of the filmmaker on their environment. While trying to document the streets' reality, he had collided with it, a sobering realization. When he continued that project, “How I See”, Zhan hired a local "guide”, who knew the community.
Zhan’s “Hyde Street Incident” became a test of his dedication to the immersive principle absorbed from Nilsson. The most authentic storytelling often comes with personal investment and risk. Indeed, the footage he recovered from the smashed phones added important meaning to the film.
Zhan’s next project was perhaps to be expected: a documentary about Nilsson, entitled "The Way Things Seem To Be" (see trailer). A comprehensive, four-hour look at Nilsson’s life, art, and philosophy, it is a massive undertaking that has already spanned two years. Instead of a conventional biography, he is going for an immersive portrait, much like Nilsson’s own films. Rather than list achievements or have talking heads spouting praising panegyrics, Zhan hopes to show feelings and process, the behind-the-scenes moments, although he also did many interviews with Nilsson, his actors and crew and some film critics.
In addition, Zhan dug through Nilsson’s archives: 45 feature films, numerous short films, unpublished scripts, poetry notebooks, paintings (Nilsson is also a painter) and essays, eventually accruing more than 200 terabytes of data, an enormous amount. A key element is explaining Direct Action Cinema. Although Nilsson occasionally uses scripts, he rejects traditional ones and works off of the notion of full improvisation in reaction to real settings. He mostly uses amateur actors but occasionally enlists a seasoned professional from LA, including Stacy Keach, Ron Perlman and Robert Viharo. Nilsson's first step is to bring the actors together in a workshop and do relaxation, concentration and expression exercises. After a week or two of this, and discussions of his script outline, detailed and motivated characters and stories emerge.
Zhan and Rob attend a showing of Rob's film 'Northern Lights' at the New York Film Festival in 2024. photo: Z. Petrov“Zhan directed this project with remarkable skill, blending cinéma vérité with a deeply immersive storytelling approach,” was the opinion of Bobby Roth, who directed “Prison Break” (2013) and television episodes in the “Lost” and “Grey’s Anatomy” shows. John Hanson, who was Nilsson’s co-director on their breakthrough film "Northern Lights" (1978), said, “Zhan seamlessly wove together scenes from Nilsson’s films with personal testimonials and context. I think the film will be important in gaining wider recognition for Nilsson’s contributions to independent cinema.”
"The Way Things Seem To Be" was an achievement that not only honored his mentor but established Zhan as a documentary as well narrative filmmaker. Indeed, the film celebrates independent cinema—the risks, the art, and the surrounding community—at a time when these voices risk being drowned out by blockbuster franchises and algorithm-driven content, making it both a tribute and a call to action.
Another highlight of their collaboration was a special event at the 2024 New York Film Festival, where Nilsson and Hanson’s "Northern Lights" screened as part of a special revival. After traveling to New York, they were wined and dined before attending two sold-out screenings at Lincoln Center. The audience was a mix of older cinephiles and younger festival-goers curious to see an example of 1970s independent cinema, a black-and-white depiction of North Dakota farmers organizing against the banks in 1915, which has renewed relevance now.
At the post-screening Q&A, Zhan remarked from the audience, “The film’s concluding lines, ‘Things are going to change, I’m sure of it, I’ve got time I can wait’ represent my faith in the future.”
In addition to his Nilsson documentary, Zhan is also the mastermind behind “Rob Nilsson Art Forms”, a new, innovative combination of website, art gallery and film site. Indeed, it is both a digital archive and distribution platform for Nilsson’s films, paintings, poetry, and writings as well as forum where new independent projects can also be incubated. They have been developing this with Anubhav Ashok, a tech expert previously at Google who now runs Ask.Videos, and Ilya Fomin, a lead engineer at YouTube Live, who did the coding.
Zhan in 2024. photo: Z. Petrov“Rob Nilsson Art Forms” also includes a 40-minute stand-alone film by Zhan, “Immersive Voyage”, a visual essay on the nature of creativity and Nilsson’s career. It highlights Zhan’s skills as an editor and emergence as a potent exponent of alternative filmmaking. Zhan just completed "Reserve Cameraman" with Ilya Fomin, a cinema verite, single-take film shot behind the scenes at a Las Vegas beauty pageant, which captures its chaotic mix of vanity, pressure, and vulnerability.
Every step of Zhan’s journey, from his ocean travels to improvising scenes in the Tenderloin’s streets or coordinating a large production, has equipped him to take on the future of film and continue a legacy of alternative film and innovation, fostering the ongoing conversation of the art across the generations.
He is also determined to use emotionally honest art to address the crisis of culture in societies turning towards authoritarianism, which he knows well. Indeed, he grew up with family members who endured the Soviet Union, some even the horrors of Stalinism. Naturally, he is extremely concerned with its modern iteration, Putin's Russia, its murderous invasion of Ukraine, and the fate of the people he left behind.
“It’s terrible,” Zhan told me. “I still have friends and close relatives in Odessa. Some of them are stuck. Some of them can’t get out. I worry every day.”
Posted on May 06, 2025 - 10:26 PM
