Marusya Bociurkiw

and Michael Bociurkiw

Street musician, “kobzar,” recording artist. Born June 17, 1960, in Edmonton. Died July 5, in Vancouver, of natural causes, aged 42.

A unique Canadian busker, Roman Bociurkiw was a fixture on Vancouver streets. There, Roman gently plucked the strings of his bandura, an ancient Ukrainian string instrument, attracting listeners from a cross-section of society. The otherworldly strains of his music could make the most hurried commuter or distracted tourist stop and absorb its luminous, light-filled sounds.

Roman saw himself as a travelling musician in the tradition of the Ukrainian kobzar, who, in the pre-modern era, journeyed the steppes of Ukraine bringing news, poetry and music to the common person. In the 1980s and 1990s, he was a frequent visitor at Canada’s fringe festivals and on Main Street Canada, performing his unique blend of Ukrainian folk songs and mainstream pop music.

Local newspapers would frequently feature him, clad in Ukrainian garments, entertaining lunchtime crowds. Ottawa’s Sparks Street Mall and Byward Market were among his favorite spots. While an enterprising busker, Roman shunned invitations to perform on a larger stage. He reminded some of a latter-day Robin Hood. Recalls one journalist who encountered Roman on Robson Street: “There were a lot of street kids walking by. Some stopped and asked for spare change. Roman looked at them kindly, without judgment, and simply pointed to his bandura, allowing them to take what they needed. Not once did I see a street kid take advantage of his charity.”

Before becoming a full-time busker almost two decades ago, Roman was headed for a life as a Ukrainian Catholic priest. After three years of minor seminary at St Vladimir’s College in Manitoba, he continued religious studies elsewhere. But he was uncomfortable with church policies against married priests, and its exclusion of women. He fancied his busking to be a kind of ministry and, indeed, we often heard from people who said his music brought them comfort and strength. With his sharp and generous intellect, Roman became an autodidact. He was a regular at the Carnegie Centre Branch of the Vancouver Public Library; he read hungrily, widely. Some of the books on his bedside table: Thomas Merton’s Contemplative Prayer, Salman Rushdie’s Fury and Jean Swanson’s Poor Bashing: The Politics of Exclusion.

Roman was a public figure in Vancouver – well-known and well-loved. Hundreds of people had their own special connection to his music and character.

Roman recorded three tapes as well as two CDs, Ave Maria and Magical Strings, which he sold on the street. Roman was most at home in his chosen neighbourhood and community – the Downtown Eastside – and often spoke passionately of the friendships he experienced there. But he watched life on the streets get tougher as more conservative municipal and provincial governments came into power, cutting back social services and healthcare. In the last five years, he had to move from hotel to hotel as spreading gentrification eliminated affordable housing.

We all knew different parts of Roman; we tried our best to weather his overcast moods, savour moments when his particular brand of innocence and wonder broke through the clouds. Some of us thought the road he had chosen was a harsh one; some of us found it hard to be part of that life. After several days of speaking with his friends and fellow musicians on the streets of Vancouver we now have a fuller picture of Roman as someone with a deep sense of social justice, who only wanted respect for those who live in poverty or who suffer from addiction. The streets seem oddly quiet now, as Vancouver residents remember the guy with a big heart and that crazy instrument called the bandura.

Roman is a brother to Marusya and Michael Bociurkiw.