Todor Kobakov

Canadian Cancer Society Short Film. Join the fight at http://www.fightback.ca/

todor — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 08:27:52 +0000

KOBAKOV LIVE | TORONTO | DEC. 3 AT BURROUGHES BUILDING | FREE!

todor — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 16:36:43 +0000

Todor will perform at the opening of the Burroughes Designer Department Store Pop Up Sale. Amazing local designers + beautiful music + cocktails = DON’T MISS.

http://burroughesstore.blogspot.com/

Emma’s Poem

todor — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 13:28:35 +0000

This is a poem by Emma McKie. She was inspired after coming to one of the October shows. She is a Grade 10 student at Rosedale School for the Arts and is diligently preparing for her RCM Grade 9 exam. Emma is 15 years old.

Todor

I’m tired of speaking in verse to explain my descents and the colours and black and white movies.

Were you too?

Can you play them from those words to the keys to the hammers to the strings?

Can I lose my voice to the ears you remind me of?

Do you soak your heart with ice from the ice box— or just your hands like Glen Gould?

Tell me it’s a one word answer
Tell me my coffin will be a Steinway grand.

Panic

steve — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 15:00:51 +0000

This piece is about the struggle to rise above things that we can’t control. When we’ve exhausted all means of solving a problem and the only remaining option is to just walk away. The panic of being trapped in an impossible situation is lifted by the realization that we can still control ourselves, our actions and reactions, even though we can’t control the people around us. The piece is also about appreciating things after they are gone. Everything good has an ending in life, as does life itself. But if we can look back on the things we’ve done and the people we’ve touched along the way, and still appreciate all of the love and happiness that life has given, it makes all of the pain and hardship seem worth it.

[See post to listen to audio]

We Are Many

steve — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 15:00:48 +0000

This piece is inspired by a poem of the same name by Pablo Neruda. The poem speaks to me because I too have struggled with the “fool” inside. As we grow older, there seems to be a universal need to appear more confident, intelligent and self-assured. However, I’ve begun to realize that this is an impossible ideal. No matter how much we build ourselves up and insist that we’ve become the people we want to be, the fool still lurks inside us all, ready to tear down our carefully-crafted personas and expose all of our insecurities.

Here is an excerpt from the poem:

Of the many men who I am, who we are,
I can’t find a single one;
They disappear among my clothes,
They’ve left for another city.

When everything seems to be set
To show me off as intelligent,
The fool I always keep hidden
Takes over all that I say.

At other times, I’m asleep
Among distinguished people,
And when I look for my brave self,
A coward unknown to me
Rushes to cover my skeleton
With a thousand fine excuses

[See post to listen to audio]

Self Portrait

steve — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:00:45 +0000

I am an Eastern European-Canadian. There is a lot of history, pain, joy and loss in my genes. I find that I am constantly trying to explain myself and where I’ve come from and how my childhood in Bulgaria continues to shape the man I am today. People often perceive me as too serious, scary and distant when in fact I am a really nice guy. I just don’t open up for every one and I keep my cards close to my chest. My hope is that, through this piece, I can share more of myself.

[See post to listen to audio]

Carpe Diem

steve — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 15:00:28 +0000

The story gets up and for my part I wait up
In hoping for the real one, they saw my love undone

Who gets over you? Who gets over you?

False get older then wise, held so tight
False get older then why hold

Reached my summer low
And I told myself I didn’t mind
Told myself I would be fine, but I’m not
Told myself I could be all that you are not

Our fights we’ll always stage
And both lose

Painful Overplayed

Now can you tell me
My lies are still all mine

Hey, I’m unadulterated!
I would never want you back
It’s a shame we never made it
Left it running all night long
It ran out

So much for carpe diem
I fold under and hide

I’m on the run away
Soon i’ll fly
Close and far away
Day and night
My lies are all mine

[See post to listen to audio]

Loving Hands

steve — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 15:00:38 +0000

He was born, she incomplete
Felt cold spread from her breast to feet
As doctor spoke in worried tone
In words as cut and dry as bone
…
Don’t let it eat your mind
Or take up all your time
Sometimes the best laid plans
Get knocked from loving hands
But child, where did you go?
…
As the dawn came slowly creeping
Softly heard her softly weeping
Secrets that her soul’d been keeping
Sobbed aloud while she was sleeping
What kind of fool
Turns love so cruel?
…
Don’t let it eat your mind
Or take up all your time
Sometimes the best laid plans
Are snatched from loving hands
…
Crow, fly off through that window
Night may unhinge your shadow,
But child, how would we know?
As the days reveal some clearer
Sometimes she can feel quite near her

[See post to listen to audio]

North Train

steve — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 22:16:58 +0000

When we grow weary of fighting for what we want – a relationship, or a job or the creation of our art – we run. Pack a bag and book a ticket and go anywhere to escape what we can’t face. This piece follows such a journey. The exuberant excitement of leaving all of your problems behind only to find that, despite your best efforts, you’ve carried your problems with you, packed up neatly next to your shaving kit and spare clothes. The cumbersome emotional baggage that you simply can’t leave behind, no matter how far the North Train may carry you.

[See post to listen to audio]

Little Warrior

steve — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 23:04:26 +0000

This is a piece that I wrote to inspire someone that means a lot to me. The steady, march-like beat represents the importance of staying strong and pressing forward without fear when life seems unbearable and dreams seem impossible.

The opening chord represents a rebirth of self-discovery, as the Little Warrior becomes a woman. There is a moment of innocence and nostalgia, followed by destruction. The rhythm at the end fades away to signify the Warrior’s journey continuing, in mystery, without me…

[See post to listen to audio]