Renaissance man

TALKEETNA — The coldman has cometh to Bob Durr — for one last migration.

The author, painter, patron and true frontiersman passed away Tuesday at his home here.

But the bulk of his story takes place much farther out than Talkeetna — the town of less than 800 was only the end his Alaska adventure.

Before moving North, Bob Durr received his Ph.D. in English from Johns Hopkins University and became a professor of English at Syracuse University in New York. He authored two scholarly books: “On The Mystical Poetry of Henry Vaughan,” and “Poetic Vision and the Psychedelic Experience.” As the titles imply, he was interested in the counter-culture movement, according to daughter Sarah Birdsall, herself an award-winning author.

After 10 years of teaching, the rising literary critic packed up his family of five and moved to the remote side of Iliamna Lake in 1968.

“Our mother always said he read too much Thoreau,” Birdsall said. “On top of the whole Thoreau thing, the back-to-nature movement added to this desire to move out.”

“Back to nature is too cute,” said his son, Steve Durr, who followed his family to Alaska even though he had already left the family home in New York.

“I would say it was to live a more elemental life.”

“(At Iliamna,) we had one set of neighbors a mile away, then there was a Native village 15 miles away. It was very remote, very wild,” said Birdsall who was only 8-years-old at the time.

“All the kids loved it. It was a big adventure,” she said. “In hindsight, I realize how much work it was for out mother. She had to figure out how to wash clothes in a bucket, find a million different ways to cook moose meat, and teach the kids our correspondent studies.”

Life at Iliamna was very tough, according to both siblings. Trying to make it off the land, the family was in extreme poverty levels.

“We realized you can’t leave the rest of the world behind. You care about things, care about the world situation,” said Steve Durr. “The idea of completely dropping out of society just didn’t work out. We never dropped the debates of the day.”

The poverty, the extreme isolation and issues about the land they lived on made the Durrs pack their minimal things. After a bit of wandering in 1970, Bob Durr staked a plot of land 10 miles north of Talkeetna through the open-to-entry plan.

He built a cabin with his sons and their friends, cutting the logs with a two-man hand saw and hauling everything on their shoulders.

“He had such a wealth of knowledge about how to survive up here,” said fellow artist Jim Gleason, “If you asked him the time, he would tell you how to make a watch.”

Once the cabin was competed, the family was finally settled.

Even without paved road access to town, Bob Durr became a major presence in the burgeoning artistic and cultural movements in Talkeetna. He helped establish the Talkeetna Historical Society just as it was being formed, and was always supportive of the expanding creative community.

At 45 years old when he first moved outside of Talkeetna, he became the unofficial town elder, said Steve Durr.

“He was a writer, artist, musician and mentor to all artists,” said Gleason. “He was never tired of hearing about any new artist or work, and he was always childishly excited about his own work. I never heard him say anything negative about any work.”

“He had accomplishments other people didn’t have,” Birdsall said. “His two latest books were published by a major printing house, and he had a nice list of awards for his paintings.”

The two books she is referring to are “Down in Bristol Bay” and “The Coldman Cometh.” The first is a sailor song narrative of his commercial fishing experiences. The second is a chronicle of the family’s migration from New York to Talkeetna.

“His writing is not highbrow,” said Steve Durr, “it’s poetic, descriptive and puts things in perspective. It’s Alaska but with a great depth of knowledge and a great sense of life.”

His paintings are infused with Alaska and the poetic in the same way. According to Birdsall, his favorite medium was watercolor and his technique was a collage approach.

“He would paint this landscape, then tear into the paper by getting it really wet. He would collage the pieces back on giving it a broken kind of look,” she said.

Broken is a word that would never be used to describe Bob Durr, even during his battles with heart failure that would ultimately cost him his life.

“He was interesting and interested in life. He was still with us until the end,” said Steve Durr. “He died like a man, and we are happy for him.”

Contact Todd L. Disher at todd.disher@frontiersman.com or 352-=2252.