James Tiernan O’Rourke: A Tribute

By John Strand
Staff Writer

The sudden passing last week of James O’Rourke leaves a void in our arts community reflective of the significant presence the arts icon commanded, vast and immense. Without a doubt, James O’Rourke was a pillar of the arts world here. Along with a chorus of voices we join in mourning his death while at the same time celebrating his many contributions, personal, professional, and civic. What follows are the words of a few of his colleagues, friends, and proteges…

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When I first met James I was chiding him about a grant report that was late. He confessed to taking little interest in the ‘business’ end of the Gallery, but assured me he would have someone take care of the issue. He then gave me a personal tour of his beloved gallery, and it was obvious to me that this man had a passion few people ever develop. He was so proud to show me every nook and cranny…and the treasures that were in each one. He truly believed in the artists and the talents in the region and worked selflessly to promote them. I was saddened to hear of his passing - a real loss for the regional arts community, especially the regional artists.

-Jan Webb, Executive Director
North Dakota Council on the Arts

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James O’Rourke single-handedly pioneered the visual arts in our region. With the opening of the Rourke Art Gallery in 1960, Jim began the long work of cultivating a community around artists and their work. He created our first regional art market. Private collectors began to emerge, often favoring works of the artists from Minnesota and North Dakota. Others, passing through, bought the art and moved it into communities across the United States. And all the while, Jim borrowed, traded, maneuvered and purchased art for his own collection. His standards were high; his taste was idiosyncratic, personal and spot on. Inevitably, Jim showed me things I hadn’t thought about or noticed before. As Founding Director of the North Dakota Museum of Art, I was his greatest admirer. We were also collaborators, the first time over 20 years ago, the last this winter, “Into the “Tussock: Contemporary Icelandic Art.” Our final project together will hang for the memorial reception Saturday evening, March 12, at the Rourke Museum. I was so pleased to see how this very contemporary work absolutely delighted Jim. I, along with so many others, will miss him.

-Laurel Reuter, Director
North Dakota Museum of Art

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I suppose one aspect of this past week that has struck me is the almost immediate “mythologizing” of Jim’s vision. This is both natural and appropriate. Jim was a titan, a visionary and a founding pillar upon which the F-M arts community was built.

At the same time, however, he was also an incredibly sensitive soul. That is to say: As a man, he was as delicate and as fragile as the rest of us. Perhaps even more so. To my mind, this sensitivity is one aspect of his personality that makes his achievement even more powerful. Back in 1993, in Greece, Jim and I reclined on a black volcanic beach near Kamari. We had been out the night before and the sun was just rising. We sat there in peace for nearly two hours, not speaking. While we will all always remember Jim as a firebrand, a crusader and a visionary, he was also a quiet, beautiful soul who lived for the silent moments.

-Peter Schultz, co-worker
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James O’Rourke was a great friend. I knew him for 46 years and loved him. Professionally, we all know what a hardworking and perfect museum director he was, but some people may not know about his personal kindness and interest that he showed many people.

He not only was interested in my paintings, but he wanted to talk to me about life, health, the world of art, his family, my family and all of the other people he knew. He knew all my children’s and grand-children’s names even though he only met them a few times. He encouraged me constantly in my work.

James told me that he had a perfect life. He had done exactly what he wanted to do—look at art, talk to artists and run the museum. He did this with love, talent and skill. He immersed himself in art. He was a good and admirable man.

I am so sorry and so sad that he had to die so soon, but he died the death he wanted—sudden and final.

-Geri Burkhart, artist

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One of the great people in this world. His love and commitment to art and
artists was one of the most wonderful things to be a part of. We will miss
him terribly.

-Aaron Holz, artist

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More than anyone I’ve ever known, James was someone who lived and breathed ART everyday of his life. The sacrifices he made to keep the gallery going through lean times and the joy he took in giving a young artist a chance were inspiring. He nurtured in Fargo-Moorhead an active and exciting art scene that was far bigger and better than it would have been without him.

He took me seriously as an artist before I dared to myself, and I will forever be grateful to him for that.

-Ruth Ellingson, artist

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To me Jim O’Rourke was the Midwestern, and vice-versa. There are a lot of things at the Rourke that are great, but I really loved the challenge of making work for the Midwestern every year. I always thought of it as Jim’s show. I’d make work thinking, ‘Yeah, I wonder what Jim will think of this one…’ I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss him.

-Michael Marth, artist

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I’ve been privileged and honored to be able to call Jim a friend and a mentor for more than a decade. His influence and support for regional visual art and artists can not be overstated. Jim is an icon. For me personally and my art career, Jim meant support, faith, trust, wisdom and encouragement. I can’t imagine meeting another person with the singular passion and focus that Jim had about the visual arts. As a member of the Board, I can assure people that we will work diligently to carry forth Jim’s mission and vision faithfully. 

—Brad Bachmeier, artist

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James O’Rourke always called me “Mr. Twingley.”  I always called him “James.”

When I was 18 years old he called my dorm room in Neumaier Hall on the campus of Minnesota State University Moorhead: “Hello Mr. Twingley, this is James O’Rourke.” We’d never met. As a college freshman, I was going through the airbrush-on-t-shirts-and-blue-jeans phase of my young career and several local television stations had interviewed me. James had seen one of these interviews and wondered if I’d visit him at the gallery. “Bring lots of art,” he told me. “I’d like to see what you’ve been up to.”

This story isn’t unique, as hundreds and hundreds of artists all over the country will tell you. But James O’Rourke was unique beyond description – full of life, enthusiastic beyond explanation. In this humdrum, day-to-day life, James shined like a super nova. “Mr. Twingley, sometimes I wake up at four in the morning and can’t go back to sleep because I just want to go to work!” he often told me in that earnest, singsong cadence of his. “I’m surrounded by art every day of my life. Can you imagine it?! Can you believe it?!”

For as long as I knew him James didn’t have a car because he didn’t need one – the Gallery was several blocks away from his home in one direction, the Museum several blocks away in another direction. Martini lunches were in-between.

After hearing the news last night that James was gone, I went for a walk because news like this requires movement of some kind. I walked up to Fort Tryon Park near the northern tip of Manhattan where it was quiet and peaceful and cold and dark, and I imagined that I was in Moorhead, Minnesota where this time of year it is often quiet and peaceful and cold and dark. It felt good to imagine that I was in Moorhead again, because I wanted to be close to my friend. On my way back home a double-decker bus drove slowly past me down Broadway, an “Out Of Service” sign flashing above the driver, and I thought about James and his service to several generations of artists, his patient nurturing of young careers and unquenchable thirst for the next exhibition on the calendar.

I’ve often thought that making paintings and drawings for a living is a ridiculous notion, and most of the time I’m right. But then I think about James O’Rourke and suddenly it doesn’t sound like such a crazy proposition after all: Poetry, Music, Art – yes! – YES! – these things matter, these things matter more than matter, these things add up to more than a life, each and every one of them are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Like James O’Rourke.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, sweet brother. Rest your soul, but only for a second. Your spirit is too restless to rest for long.

-Jonathan Twingley, artist
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Our community and region have lost one of its strongest advocates for art and culture with the passing of James O’Rourke. I’m grateful to have lived here 40 of the 51 years that he nurtured the fine arts in Moorhead-Fargo.

It is safe to say that the Red River Valley and our two states would not have art in either the quantity or the quality we enjoy had it not been for Jim’s tireless efforts. Many successful artists can trace the beginning of their careers to a first one-person show at the Rourke. And countless school and other groups profited from an hour or two in the galleries. We owe him much and can best show that appreciation by supporting the next 50 years of the institution he founded.

-Ron Ramsay, professor

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I worked for James Tiernan O’Rourke (intermittently) since 2002. No matter how busy we were at the Museum and Gallery, he would never stop dreaming. James would say, “When we have time ... ” and then launch into some grand scheme for an exhibition, building plans for new galleries, or membership initiative. I want to believe that most of his dreams were realized, but I wish there had been more time.

-Jonathan Rutter, co-worker

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I best remember Jim by the people and scenes that coalesced around him. The Rourke Museum and Gallery openings are often the most interesting parties in town. Meandering through exhibits, shaking hands and introducing strangers, Jim was the point of coherence in a roomful of contrasting elements. Jim, of course, would credit the art, which he placed front and center. But it was he who pulled—established and emerging artists, art collectors and rock club kids, civic leaders and college students into the same space. I look forward to seeing how the space left by Jim is filled with people, projects and artworks that honor his legacy.

-Mitchell Marr, writer
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James was a towering figure for the arts and for me.  I first met him in 1967, still in high school.  The collection is remarkable, but still more remarkable is the artists he fostered, ranging in age from the great Charlie Beck to the destined-to-be-great Brad Bachmeier, so many distinctive talents over the years.  Charlie illustrates my books, and it was always a thrill to read at the Rourke, shouting the poems so Charlie could hear them! What a loss. But what a legacy. 

- Timothy Murphy

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I was 13 when I first met James.
I asked him to show my work when I was 17.
He looked at my slides and offered suggestions.
We did this annually for 14 years until the work was “ready.”

- Jon Offutt, artist

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