Bob Murphy, life-long Roseville resident, talented artist and local visual historian, dreams of a Roseville Arts Center
By Etta Buchholtz
One never knows when someone interesting will pop into your life, but such a person recently popped into mine. In the process of preparing to learn more about Arts Roseville, I was directed to Robert Murphy, proud lifelong Roseville resident. The best way to describe him is through his own art:
Of course, this is not really Bob Murphy, but then perhaps it is. He is older, full of fun, full of color and has a head full of amazing ideas, plans, and cultural curiosities to pursue. When asked how he describes himself, he said he is “interdisciplinary,” a person trained in photography and video who is a “creator of cultural curiosities.”
As I entered his studio/gallery/home, I entered another realm of visual art. Front and center on the large, bright red desk was this fellow. He was all head with grassy ideas flying out in all directions, older, but still very vital, well preserved, and clearly well groomed—even to his toenails. It wasn’t until after spending a couple hours with Mr. Murphy that I realized this was a combination creation, self-portrait and cheerful companion.
I asked about the many paintings stacked around the room. Mr. Murphy explained they were there because he had recently had a showing of his latest video production, “Game of Life.” He explained his movie as a series of short stories and invited me to see an example from the film. It was clearly a recent project he was ready to share.
As I watched, his narration explained that the film was an attempt to capture his heart, mind and life lessons from the last 50 years. Central question: What is it like to be human? And from that visionary and erudite beginning, we see a photograph of his “yellow bird,” a car of the 60s, long, yellow, with a major brightly painted stripe and sitting frozen in time and in place. The story describes how one day its brakes froze and Mr. Murphy drove home from the University of Minnesota campus to his house in Roseville in reverse— the only direction in which the car would drive. The point: He never got a ticket. It was a different time.
The story he wanted to show me was a piece entitled “Memorial Day.” It includes pictures of a picnic at McCarron Lake from 1946. Mr. Murphy’s father fought in the Battle of Bulge and was fortunate enough to return home, but other family members who served did not. It was a time when every home of a serviceman or -woman had a blue star in the window. If the family member died, the star was changed to gold.
Everyone knew about their neighbors’ hardships, challenges and struggles. Later, Bob’s father talked to him about his experiences in the war and what it meant to defend freedom and democracy. This is a message Bob understood then and now. He, too, served in the military, and cherishes the right to speak freely and be creative.
Finishing our discussion and viewing of parts of the movie, we returned to the many pictures stacked in the living room. They were all of a similar look, but with different overall color tones. Each one was different, but as a group, all the same.
I asked him to tell me about them. “They really belong in airports. I have painted some that are 8 feet by 10 feet.”
Why airports? It is the view from the airplane as he flies over cities and landscapes. One was based on drone photos he saw from the recent No Kings Rally. Everything goes into Mr. Murphy’s work. These paintings are as germane as his early photos of his “yellow bird.”
Left: “No Kings” Right: “Flying Over” | Courtesy of Robert Murphy
His desk contained many books of his photography, a skill started while still a boy, studied at college, and pursued for his lifetime. It is not only a history of Roseville, his home and his roots, it is the life of the times. The Rose Drive-In Theatre where “the guys hung out as soon as you had wheels,” Erik’s Bike Shop, then and now, everything that makes up one’s physical and emotional environment is contained in some way in his books. In the Spring 2025 issue of Ramsey County History, Volume 60, Number 2, you can see some of Bob’s photography.
Finally, we turned to Arts Roseville, a group established when the former Arts Council turned over their 501(c)3 status. A few Roseville residents started the group using the transferred nonprofit status. Arts Roseville as a group is only recently receiving recognition, largely due to their partnership with Showtime Studio and Coffee, located in a recent repurposing of a bike shop venue across from City Hall on Lexington. Showtime displays a great mural facilitated by Arts Roseville, painted by artist Nate Maliscke and funded by the Roseville Area Community Foundation. Showtime provides a monthly meeting site and shares ideas for events and community activities related to the arts.
While acknowledging that the group now has more visibility through its partnership with Showtime, there is still a real arts venue missing, according to Mr. Murphy. Showtime centers on music and dance, but there are no galleries in Roseville. Bob pointed out the cultural centers in White Bear Lake, Edina, Hopkins and other suburbs as positive examples of centers in other suburbs. While he gave Roseville due credit for good infrastructure, he felt the city has provided limited time, options and resources to address cultural or artistic amenities. Mr. Murphy’s vision for a cultural center in Roseville is broad and inclusive, and he seems ready and able to work on making it a reality.
And so, in the opinion of Mr. Murphy, and this writer, there is much to be learned from Bob’s 50 years of stories, art, and books of “rephotographing” places in his hometown of Roseville. These are all stories of being rooted, feelings of “home” and an understanding of family and of relationships. All good lessons for our times.
Mr. Murphy represents much more than an historical retrospective. He is a man with a bowlful of ideas. He is an active artist, a thoughtful individual and someone thinking about and striving to make Roseville an even better place to live.
