MONUMENTAL Zine by Denver Theatre District

MONUMENTAL ZINE

A print extension of MONUMENTAL, a series of public, contemporary artworks throughout Denver that explore, question, and transform the role monuments play within society.

THIS PROJECT IS CO-PRODUCED BY BLACK CUBE AND THE DENVER THEATRE DISTRICT, WITH ARTWORKS CURATED BY BLACK CUBE â&#x20AC;&#x201C; 2019

CONTRIBUTORS

Cortney Lane Stell, Black Cube David Ehrlich, The Denver Theatre District Dan Manzanares, Lighthouse Writers Workshop Bob Luna Coleman Mummery Joshua Palmeri Kate Davis

Mario Zoots Marsha Mack Sarah Bowling Sommer Browning Rian Kerrane Dean Glorso Louis Kennedy Sue Blosten George Koukeas Julia Carlson Sunny Shen Susan Osborn

Cortney Lane Stell, Black Cube Executive Director + Chief Curator The MONUMENTAL Zine is a publication that gathers a range of contemporary artists and writers who are reflecting on the nature of monuments in Denver. By reconceptualizing the relationship public monuments have on our everyday environments, these artists and writers explore—and at times dismantle—the current attitudes that reveal the public dimensions of our private worlds. Denver, like many cities across the country, is grappling with rapid change—from growth and evolving demographics to technology and infrastructure development. Considering these transformations, MONUMENTAL Zine approaches this subject matter not by proposing new, large permanent monuments, but by stimulating the community with a publication that reflects a multitude of voices, perspectives, and ideas on our Denver community, national identity, and changing world. The MONUMENTAL Zine is released in conjunction with MONUMENTAL, a series of public, contemporary artworks and community engagement programs throughout Denver that explore, question, and transform the role monuments play within society. I’d like to express our sincere gratitude to all of the artists and writers who contributed to this zine, as well as the wider project. It is through their creativity, reflection, and critical thinking that we are able to see this subject matter through an array of perspectives. I am also humbled by the opportunity to partner with The Denver Theatre District on MONUMENTAL, specifically Annie Geimer, David Moke, and David Ehrlich. Hannah James, the Program Manager from Black Cube, has been integral to the development and implementation to the project, which has benefited from her diligence and organization. Furthermore, this zine could not have been possible without the partnership from Lighthouse Writers Workshop and their Community Programs Coordinator, Dan Manzanares, who brought the prose to life. I would be remis if I didn’t thank Dillon Kogle for his amazing design skills on both the zine and wider project. Lastly, I’d like to thank our finical supporters, the BonfilsStanton Foundation and the David and Laura Merage Foundations, who helped put the steam in our engine! It truly takes a village to produce large-space public projects, and we are so, so very lucky to be surrounded by greatness.

David Ehrlich, Executive Director of Denver Theatre District Black Cube’s creation of Monumental has created several exciting possibilities for the DTD to further connect to Denver’s diverse arts community. One of the more unique opportunities presented by Monumental is a partnership with Lighthouse Writers Workshop for the creation of the MONUMENTAL Zine. This publication will gather several contemporary artists, writers, and voices from the community to reflect on the nature of monuments in Denver. The nature of the zine is very community oriented, as it combines open call submissions with pieces that will come from two workshops run by Dan Manzanares’ Light House Writer’s Workshop with the following writing prompts:

1 – Choose a monument and write about how it is representative of Denver. If you think it doesn’t represent Denver describe why. 2 – If you could add a monument to Civic Center Park what would it be? What is your monument to Denver? While the DTD has deep relationships in the visual arts community, we intend to grow our connections with Denver’s narrative based artists on both this project and our upcoming 3d Mapping project at the D&F Tower. In Monumental, Black Cube has created the perfect project for us to grow these relationships and we expect great things to come out of these collaborations.

Temporary Monuments to Denver Concepts by Artists Living and Working in Denver This section features seven artist concepts that respond to the question, “What would your monument to Denver look like?”. Displayed in the conceptual format of a proposal, this section explores local artists’ ideas that could not be physically produced. Although intangible, these monument concepts touch on important aspects of Denver’s present identity. Liberated from financial, political, or practical constraints, these proposals address particular reflections on the city and its history of boom and bust, the current growth in population, and comment on the aesthetics and icons that often define Denver. Furthermore, the nature of these hypothetical monuments opens up a space for readers to further reflect on the existing monuments in the city through exploring alternative possibilities.

Kate Davis Blue Gummy Bear STYROFOAM BLOCKS WITH A PROTECTIVE, SHINY, BLUE STYRA-COAT Colorado economy and plays into the public’s perception of how Colorado is perceived nationally. Culturally, the Blue Bear that peeks into the Colorado Convention Center, by Lawrence Argent, has become an icon for the city. The Blue Gummy Bear would be a modern reflection of this recognizable image and provoke a discussion on the cannabis industry.

The 12-foot tall Blue Gummy Bear is a playful take on the cannabis industry’s impact on Colorado, reflected in a tongue-in-cheek version of Denver’s recognizable Blue Bear sculpture When Colorado became one of the first states to legalize recreational marijuana in 2012, it forever changed the national perception of Colorado. Annual marijuana sales revenue hit $1.5 billion annually in 2018. For better or worse, it is an integral part of the

Although the gummy bear is one of the most common and beloved marijuana edibles, it has a controversial history. Pot gummy bears can easily be swallowed by children, who think they are just candy. What is the cannabis industry’s effect on children? Does it provide an easy gateway to more lethal drugs? How do we protect and educate our children? The Blue Gummy Bear playfully provokes and stimulates public discussion on the impact of marijuana legalization in Colorado.

Coleman Mummery American Hatchling CNC ROUTED FOAM, STUCCO OR RESIN HARD-COAT, STEEL REINFORCED STRUCTURE FOR SUPPORT, PAINT I propose a horse hatching out of an egg. The egg is standing upright with the horse’s head breaking out of the top—frozen in the action of birth. This work explores the colonial history of Denver. Denver was founded in 1858, which makes it seem young when compared to a city like Paris, which was founded in the 3rd Century BCE by the Gauls. In this sculpture, I am using an egg as a metaphor. Eggs have an inherent potential for life and the potential for wealth brought many early settlers

to the Denver area. The egg in this work represents the geographic region unaffected by colonial settlers, and the horse hatching from the egg represents Denver’s budding modern history. I am using a horse because it has become an icon of Denver, the most obvious being the Denver Broncos and the Blue Mustang statue at D.I.A., but horses also have deep historical roots in the American West and the mythology that surrounds it. This sculpture is conceptually founded in the idea that this region was not newly inhabited when the settlers arrived. The area that is now called Denver was occupied by the Arapaho tribe, who lived in the Colorado area long before it was “discovered”. Our understanding of Denver today is posited by their genocide inflicted by the U.S. Government and subsequent erasure of this region’s original culture. This is why I wish to present a horse hatching from an egg; a horse can no more hatch from an egg as history can truly be erased. Still, due to the colonization of the region and the currently shifting infrastructure, there is a “newness” to Denver in 2019. This work looks to the future and asks; “What will become of the horse? It has only just been born.”

Marsha Mack Gold Rush WALL GARDEN GREENHOUSE, GOLD GLITTER, SILICONE CAULKING, HIGH DENSITY FOAM Gold Rush features a homeuse greenhouse packed with approximately 100 cubic feet of hexagonal craft glitter in the factory color code “gold rush.” Paying homage to the lore of Colorado culled from the national psyche, Gold Rush considers the promise of wealth that has long marked the legacy of the West. Encapsulated inside of a transparent glass greenhouse, the appearance of prosperity interacts with the Colorado sunshine, implicating Denver’s climate into the work. Glittering gold is within sight and almost within reach, but still locked inside; in the hands of the few. In this way, Gold Rush muses over the irony of the economy booming while many continue to struggle, with affordable housing at critical lows as the wealth gap continues to widen. The sparkling allure of prosperity is here imagined as abundant yet vacuous, and always tightly contained.

Joshua Palmeri (MH&R) Mile High and Rising NEON TUBE LETTERS AND STEEL

MH&R is an ode to Denver, ‘The Mile High City’. Denver has constantly undergone boom and bust cycles throughout its short life. This current boom has seen the largest growth influx to date, with no real exodus in sight. Made of neon, the sign pays homage to the vintage appeal of Colfax Avenue and its heyday of popularity through the drive-in motel era. The phrase ‘mile high and rising’ refers to Denver’s constant evolution and growth, with a double meaning of rising into acclaim—it is also a mild critique on who it is rising for. Are all of Denver’s citizens feeling the success of Denver’s recent rise? The reference comes from the De La Soul album ‘3 feet high and rising’ that borrowed a title from a Johnny Cash song ‘five feet high and rising’, which is about a flood that continually rises. I feel this concept currently rings true with many Denverites, the flood of development, transplants, and cost of living may end up drowning out many. This monument is an optimistic exclamation point on our current state—Denver is most certainly on the rise and hopefully all Denverites are on the rise and able to continue to rise with it.

Sommer Browning DIRECTORY TWO-SIDED, SOLAR-POWERED LED, OUTDOOR LIGHTBOX WITH COLOR POSTERS DIRECTORY is a sculpture that aims to situate Denver’s shifting authority, its notions of civic responsibility, its nostalgia and humanity, and its economic landscape simply, in one place, and with care and humor. DIRECTORY is inspired by the informational directories found in shopping malls. It is a free standing two-sided rectangular solar powered lightbox. Each side features a map of the immediate area surrounding the monument locating both Places and Events. These Places and Events are chosen through a combination of historical research and engagement with people who live and work in the area.

Mall directories explain the where of things quite well, but not much else. They do not explain the economic realities of why Radio Shack or Barnes and Noble moved out; they don’t

mark the kiosk where you got your ears pierced without your parent’s permission or the bench where you had a first kiss. DIRECTORY is informed by these hidden histories buried in the iterations of the mall directory and seeks to uncover the similarly hidden histories of a city. Additionally, situating Places and Events on the same map calls into question what is temporary, what is permanent, what is personal, what is deemed “history,” what is replaceable, and what is eternal about the city.

Sarah Bowling Waiting to feel the weight of something new FOAM, STYROFOAM, GLUE, SAND, PAPER, PAPER, MACHE, PLASTER, QUIKRETE, CONCRETE, REBAR, SEALER My body My body My body My body My body My body

is monument. is anti-monument. is monument. is anti-monument. is monument. is anti-monument.

How do I participate in change? How can I scream without screaming? How can I take up space without demanding it? Waiting to feel the weight of something new. I wish to feel only the weight of my own, yet I support yours too. While the word “waiting” implies inaction, I am in action. I am inviting you to join me. I am a woman waiting... patiently... persistently. With my legs proudly spread, I claim the space that is my own.

Mario Zoots S.B.B.O.D {Spinning Beach Ball of Death} Kinetic Monument ALUMINUM

The temporary rainbow-colored circle is a painful sight to see for computer users. If you’re lucky it disappears in a few seconds, but more often it remains for minutes or hours, leaving you helplessly locked out. Initially, it’s a system indicator. Its official name is the Spinning Wait Cursor, not so official — the Spinning Beach Ball of Death. The ball signifies that your system cannot handle all the tasks given to it at this moment in time. Denver’s fast growth over recent years has shown indicators of congestion within the interstates and the housing /renting market with the city waiting for the boom to level off. Denver’s booming tech industry is only surpassed by Silicon Valley. Denver grew by 100,000 in under 7 years. Is Denver having trouble with all the tasks it has to handle as the nation’s 5th fastest growing city? Responding to the post monumental period, where symbols of confederate generals are torn down and destroyed,

I propose the creation of a temporary monument that hints at humor, a ready-made symbol that nods to technology, a monument that speaks to the growing pains the city is facing.

For Freedoms (Hank Willis Thomas and Emily Shur in collaboration with Eric Gottesman and Wyatt Gallery)

Freedom of Speech, 2018, photograph printed on vinyl Photo: Third Dune Productions

Responses to Freedom of Speech Billboard Triptych Reflective Writing from the Community Lighthouse Writers Workshop invited writers from their core programs, Friday 500, to reflect upon a public art installation titled Freedom of Speech. Friday 500 is a Lighthouse member event in which attendees are encouraged to write 500 words in the first hour and participate in a group activity during the second hour. For this collaboration, Friday 500 went on on a field trip to the For Freedoms billboard installation, which is part of MONUMENTAL, in order to respond on site to the work. The triptych of large-scale billboards is by artist-run collective For Freedoms. The billboards depict three interpretations of a town hall meeting portrayed in Norman Rockwell’s iconic 1943 Freedom of Speech painting. Rockwell’s painting was inspired by Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Four Freedoms (1941)—freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. In the series of photographs, the artists situate modern day citizens within Rockwell’s composition to reflect the diversity of American identities today.

by Julia Carlson

We all have something to say. We deserve to be heard. And we all must listen. Without using actual words, Norman Rockwell was able to convey a message of a specific time period that despite social and economic divides, that one person’s words are just as important as the rest. I look at Norman Rockwell’s picture and I see a man in a worn out jacket that has seen many hours of hard labor, with mud splattered jeans, and dirty fingernails, standing to speak in a room of strangers. The room is filled with professionally dressed, clean cut gentlemen and ladies. The first thing I noticed was the eye contact from the men around the room, listening intently to the man standing. They are not staring at his clothes, or his dirty fingernails. Instead, they are engaged in his presence, and the weight of his words. The audience listens. When I look at “For Freedoms” by Willis and Shur, it depicts a different generation, a different set of moral divides, but at the same time, it shares the same timeless message. The idea of racial equality is ever so prevalent. The first image, I see an older Native American man with his long flowing white hair, bracelets of agate and turquoise stones, and a jean jacket vest embroidered with badges of things that symbolize who he is and what he stands for. Whoever he is talking to, you get the sense by his gaze that he is patient, yet passionate. Again, the audience listens.

The second image, a young woman, with her stylish round glasses, chic brown jacket, and hijab, stands tall and confident. She has a soft but empathetic gaze that entrances those around her. Again, the audience listens. The third image, a middle aged black man, his mouth slightly ajar, his face framed by faded tattoos down his neck. He raises his hand to his chest, conducting the words across the room, like a music conductor does with a symphony. A white man in the front looks back at him, his eyes locked on the speaker. The white man wears a shirt with the word Equality. written across his chest in block letters. Again, the audience listens. To the viewer, the message of equality in Willis and Shur’s paintings is quite clear. When I look at the image of the Native American man, my mind travels to the small towns of the Dakotas and the pipeline protests where the local tribes are fighting to protect their water sources. When I look at the young woman in the hijab, I think of the relentless attacks on freethinking women, and the fight for a world where all girls can learn and lead, led by brave women like Malala. And when I see the third painting of the black man with neck tattoos, I think of Black Lives Matter and the brutal injustices that have taken place against black youth, like Trayvon Martin. It is unfortunate that these are the relevant themes of my generation.

Norman Rockwell painted the social class divides among white families, and to no surprise of that time period, it shows little to no diversity. What can be drawn from the comparison of Willis and Shur and Norman Rockwellâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s depictions, is that, we are evolving, sometimes taking leaps and bounds forward, and sometimes taking steps backwards. I am hopeful for a future where a new generation of viewers look upon these same paintings and see a new story, through an even more equal and diverse lens. What we can learn from these paintings, is to never stop standing and speaking for what we believe in, and to have the humility and respect to listen to others. The images will change over the years, and we will see what we want to see, based on what is culturally relevant, but the message will never change, and that is the importance and power of the freedom of speech.

by George Koukeas In comparing Willis & Shur’s “For Freedoms” paintings with Norman Rockwell’s “Freedom of Speech,” I find the former to be redundant. I also find Willis & Shur’s purpose (to depict nonwhite minorities) as missing the point of Rockwell’s painting.

Apparently, Willis & Shur have “repainted” Rockwell’s scene of a white male speaking by painting the same scene with a Native American, a Muslim Woman and an AfricanAmerican speaking. That, in itself, implies that Willis & Shur did not think that Rockwell’s painting of free-speech was enough. Willis and Shur obviously wanted to showcase minorities speaking out, too. However, the same implicit misjudgment about the Rockwell painting’s “not being enough” can be consistently applied to Willis & Shur’s re-working of Rockwell’s scene. To play “devil’s advocate,” if Rockwell’s painting is “not enough” because it does not depict Natives or AfricanAmericans, then “For Freedoms” is “not enough” since it excludes other ethnicities like Greek-Americans, and our right to speak-out. We, Greeks, are oftentimes stereotyped as being “white.” However, most Greeks who migrate here from Greece are olive-colored. Some of us—born here in America— are very pale and we can be mistaken for “white”. By comparison, some Native Americans are so pale that you

would not be able to determine they were Native American unless they told you. Because Greeks are stereotyped as being “white,” many painters— like Willis & Shur—and university professors ignore our contributions to American history and to today’s culture. For example, history professors usually over-emphasize the Native American view of the Frontier settlement while marginalizing Greek views and the Greek experience of the Old West. Yes, we were here, too, in the 1800’s. We were helping to lay the groundwork for our modern-day society. Some people might defend “For Freedoms’” exclusion of Greek and other ethnicities by saying that it’s not practical to create too big of a painting to include all ethnicities, due to their large variety. However, the same applies to Rockwell’s painting: it’s too impractical and cumbersome to make a super large painting trying to depict the numerous ethnicities in America. For practicality’s sake, Rockwell chose one ethnicity for a person exercising his right to freespeech. Therefore, he’s not choosing a Caucasian to imply that minorities lack a right to free-speech. Like many paintings, the true meaning of “Freedom of Speech” goes beyond the literal aspects of the work. The meaning of Rockwell’s painting is the importance of the individual’s right to free-speech and the bravery that implies. The key word there is

“individual.” The painting shows one individual standing up to be heard when everyone else is sitting down. That demonstrates the right to freespeech is expressed by the individual acting as an individual—as opposed to multiple people of a particular race or gender speaking-out together. The individual right to free-speech is universally possessed by all individuals regardless of their ethnicity or gender. That the literal portrayal of the speaker involves a white, not black, person is irrelevant to the essential message. It is the message—the importance of the individual’s right to free-speech—that matters and applies to people of any race. As a result, Rockwell’s painting does implicitly include all ethnic Americans in the universal applicability of its message. Therefore, as a “reworking” of “Freedom of Speech,” “For Freedoms’” explicit portrayal of various minorities is redundant. Rockwell said it all. By making his message’s applicability to various minorities implicit, Rockwell’s painting emphasizes individual rights. By contrast, Willis & Shur emphasize ethnicity and gender. Although their “For Freedoms” also presents an individual speaking-out, the fact it’s a re-painting of Rockwell’s scene with minorities places the focus on the speakers’ race and gender. That contradicts the truth that race and gender are irrelevant to individuals having rights. But making race/ gender “relevant” to rights suggests that rights come from a certain race or gender. That eventually leads, in practice, to violating an individual’s rights due to that person’s being of

the “wrong” race or gender. That is what we see in the area of public policy, certain social movements and their rioting incidents. As a result, Willis & Shur’s emphasis is an unfortunate example of society’s superficiality and its losing sight of the true nature of human rights.

For Freedoms (Hank Willis Thomas and Emily Shur in collaboration with Eric Gottesman and Wyatt Gallery)

Freedom of Speech, 2018, photograph printed on vinyl Photo: Third Dune Productions

For Freedoms (Hank Willis Thomas and Emily Shur in collaboration with Eric Gottesman and Wyatt Gallery)

Freedom of Speech, 2018, photograph printed on vinyl Photo: Third Dune Productions

We are Losing a Star by B.E.L. I see, and will touch, like many others The erected Monument. A symbolic Woman stands, in hand an ancient Book. Upon her head is a five pointed Star. The higher Light. There are four sides to the Giant granite sculpture of Ideals.

Carved on each separate side are Words. One side is Education. A child with their mother at home. Where learning comes from Wisdom. One side is Law. A man sits with a hand reaching out. Behind in a shadowed niche. Scales. One side is Morality. This person touches their Heart. One side is Liberty. A soldier sitting, chains broken around his leg, a sword is ready to Defend. Faith is written at the feet of the Heroine. Which one side matters most? Will one win out? Maybe each, one counts as much as the Other.

Let Freedom Ring by Susan Osborn I long to hear the resonance of his voice. The hand poised, the eyes focused, he speaks to an audience beyond the canvas. Free to express, he does so not only with words but with his being. Adorned with rings, a necklace, and a mala, he has a tattoo on his neck I cannot decipher. His dark skin contrasts with the white shirt beneath his black coat. The man on one side wears a black t-shirt with white letters that says, Equality. A sliver of a white shirt on the man on the speakers other side centers the composition. She stands tall, quiet, strong. A black swaddled cloth covers her head. A cream-colored dress and a dark short unzipped textured jacket complete the look. Her eyeglasses and two rings adorn the few pieces of skin that are visible. I watch in anticipation of what will arise from her slight frame when her words emerge. From the back of the room, the eyes of the last speaker are fixed upon her. His gray hair is the only feature I share with anyone in these depictions. Although he was the first mural I was drawn to, nothing else about this last speaker was familiar. A Native American Indian, I could not decipher with clarity the array of patches on his jean vest. A round patch had 4 colored footprints, there was a yellow star, and a police emblem of

some kind. The craftsmanship of his bracelets stood out. The brilliant blue turquoise, and the hidden ring and necklace, added to his mystique. He gazes forward, a few of his onlookers impressed and amused with what had been said as he awaits a response. Peaceably assembled, the speakers stand with hands resting on what looks like a pew. In the 1943 Norman Rockwell “Freedom of Speech,” a town hall meeting agenda is in the speaker’s pocket. Not here. I am not in either picture. I am used to being invisible. It doesn’t bother me. The white male predominance of my youth in books and history lessons was the way it was. I looked beyond the surface, relating to the characters way of being. I was the explorer, the outdoorsman (woman) running through nature with my trusty dog by my side. I look towards the essence, and for those things I can relate to. I love the beauty of the turquoise bracelet worn by the Indian and his wisdom hair. The solid yet trim frame of the woman, she is both simple and elegant. The passion the active speaker expresses with his face and hands makes me want to hear his voice. As I paint my own picture through the lens of my words I want to be in the room to feel the energy of what is being shared. Are people feeling seen? Feeling heard? Being

validated? Would I relate to their grievances, their concerns? There is less to draw me into the Norman Rockwell picture. I flash back to memories of a framed picture of a fisherman Rockwell painted that was in my house as a child. The photograph of my father’s schoolroom was the subject of one of his paintings, or so the story goes. Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

For Freedoms (Hank Willis Thomas and Emily Shur in collaboration with Eric Gottesman and Wyatt Gallery)

Freedom of speech gives us the opportunity to share thoughts and ideas that influence us. “For Freedoms” represent a broader populous than the 1943 Rockwell version. The antithesis of one another in skin and eye color, I am still not represented. Freedom of speech is being bantered around as a right in extreme ways today in the United States. Do we have the right to bully, to promote hatred, to expound misinformation? The lines are being crossed, the lines are being questioned. The town hall forums give hope of a framework that has boundaries of civility.

In Hong Kong, millions lined the streets in opposition to a proposed amendment to legislation. Because of potential retributions, many feared participating in the protests. AI and facial recognition software have increased the risks of documenting participants identities. Not all share our freedoms, freedoms that came at a great cost.

Can we look beyond the surface to find ourselves in each other? Can we then embrace our diversity and our many gifts? Will we be living shared values in a world that also embraces the very earth we inhabit? 75 years from now I will be part of the dust of the earth. I will be invisible again. Will you hear my pleas in that mural?

We are less than 250 years old, still an experiment in the making. Our forefathers set the stage, and we are defining, interpreting who we are, in an evolving world. We are living divided, in the United States. We donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t agree on what the pressing issues are, our challenges or the solutions. Our core values are being tested. I look again, and now I hear what before I only saw. The Indian, is he expressing his need for freedom of want? The Woman, is she expressing her need for freedom of religion? The Black Man, is he expressing his need for freedom from fear? I am struck by the engaged expressions of the majority around the speaker in the 1943 Freedom of Speech. I want to see that in the mural 75 years from now. I am impressed with the diversity of both the speakers and their varied portrayals in The Freedoms. I want to see that continued. When we near the 2100 year mark will we recognize our influence not only on each other, but on the world that we inhabit? Can we unite around issues that make the world a better place?

Pastoral Interludes by Sunny Shen I. A strong, beautiful rain came shortly after. Glossy reflection of light, on watery surfaces from far off lamplights. Misty outline of buildings over the dark, with occasional flash of lightning and a faint rumble.

II. Find some way to speak a thing we cannot say, to lift up the child in me and the child in you, for narrowing of eyes and grin of lips when she chuckles, much more than indifference, which shows, a heart far more humble and kind, than only a facade. If perfectionism can make one better, then it should; but still one may be beautiful with rounded arms and pastries for breakfast - a figure lithe and contained in a well choice of dress. III. To be out of alignment is not the fault of others nor oneself; rather part of the collective journey of all, who have a quarrel within, and have pain to

mend, such as heart-break. For to accept oneself is to acknowledge the collective struggle, and know, ones burden is a loss indicative of the human condition. For maybe to acknowledge ones flaws, with real acceptance could be cathartic; or, even more so to witness others far more forgiving after the harm has been done, and already past, that teaches one that trust is well-warranted even, in spite of the human condition and, allows us to know that things will be okay.

by Sunny Shen As I look from the ‘For Freedoms’ triptych back to Norman Rockwell’s ‘Freedom of Speech,’ the first thing I notice is the apparent difference in ‘color,’ of the individuals depicted. Our contemporary ‘version’ of the concept of ‘freedom’ seems to focus on issues of equality between races, ethnic groups, religions, etc.; while Rockwell, though he depicts ‘freedom’ of the American people as an ideal granted to individuals across class distinctions, yet envisions American culture to be one of exclusively ‘white’ color. From this we see the differing context from which these two pieces of art arise. Viewing the Triptych and Rockwell’s painting side by side not only harkens one to the past, but ameliorates it as well, recognizing that we now hope to extend the ideals and concepts embodied in the painting, not only to all ’Whites,’ but now to all colors, races, religions, etc. But though there remains strong racial divide throughout much of America, I remember the bias that exists regarding

‘white-privilege.’ Likewise, the stereotypical white Christian, conservative of Rural America and the South is a visibly changing reality; people who truly define the stereotype comprise a much smaller subgroup of whites, revealing an increasingly more colorful variety of personalities in this shifting demographic.

In my mind the American Heartland embodies, more or less accurately, a very personal association, one filled with the memories of the people I knew, and the many episodes of small town life which I experienced living in a company town in North Eastern Oklahoma. The town, which I will not name, where the summers can be intensely hot and quite humid, and the winters starkly hallow and biting cold (the brief periods of springtime and autumn being bright and lovely), is a small city, with patches of assiduous forest spread throughout; a river curves through it from the West (Downtown area) and then tapers away in another direction as it travels East; this allows

for development to be more accessible on the Eastside as the river has moved north and is now out of the way - the further Westside, over the train tracks, is also the ‘rough side,’ much like in ‘The Outsiders,’ a book you may remember from junior high. When I look from the triptych back to Rockwell’s painting, am I really looking back to the past? Or am I, in truth, looking to the future? What if harkening back to Rockwell were in another sense moving forward in time? - in some circular perpetuity in which we continually re-orient ourselves within an ever shifting dynamic. Perhaps in the future we will not only achieve greater equality between all ‘colors’ but also remember once more to embrace some of the American values which still bear a level of meaning in spite of the imperfect past. In Oklahoma, I had a friend and acquaintance whom I had met through becoming a member of the theatre community. One evening over at her house, after greeting her ‘kids,’ she quickly ushered me through a door into an adjacent bedroom where

we sat together on the carpet floor. I leaned against the foot of the bed while she brought out a large manila envelope containing an assortment of marijuana, uncovering the veiny, green buds coated in white furs, and the strange-pungent smell, reminiscent to all those who have before partaken, invading the senses as the small capsules containing the flowers were popped open. As we passed the pipe back and forth, (far too many times for my taste), my friend told me about her kids; she had a biological son in middle school, but her many ‘others’ had been ‘adopted.’ A believer in life over abortion, she had carried out her values by looking after children who were displaced or without a home; kids from dysfunctional families, and/or from parents suffering of alcohol or drug addiction, who were in need of a warm household. My friend was currently caring for a tiny blonde girl, then painting in the living area outside of the bedroom in which we talked - it had been her birthday over the weekend and my friend had bought her a child’s water coloring set for her birthday. But now she told me about another of her adopted kids, who was twenty-eight,

whom she had taken in as a young child. ‘But from the beginning the child had been afraid and she hated me,’ she told me, ‘always rebelling, and calling me names.’ ‘And then, one day, I wrote out a long two page letter… hand-written,’ she exclaimed in a hushed voice, ‘and I gave it to her, explaining everything and how I felt... and then she turned around.’ ‘She came running to me in tears as we hugged each other.’ ‘Still she calls me mommy till this day,’ my friend concluded. Now this daughter lived two hours north with her boyfriend, but still often came to visit. Though I am a general advocate of ‘pro-choice,’ I nevertheless admire her kindness and conviction in carrying out her views, not only extending her love and care to children in need, but opening her home to me as well. That evening, before returning home to my apartment, I had felt the marijuana thoroughly enveloping my system, experiencing that numb, dicey sensation of perception which, though detached in a sense from ones surroundings, nonetheless contained the feeling of some voluptuous and arousing compassion; a sort of compassion I felt for having come to know

directly, and become friends with, people who had been affected by the opioid crisis. I began to feel much more closely affected by this episode in recent history, the effects of which still persist at this time. What exactly are the characteristics which embody labels, distinctions, and attitudes? Some may be accurate, but what happens when characteristics are taken on their own, superadded, or even re-categorized into a new association? Do they begin to contradict? Labels help us to fathom others in relation to a larger, complex picture of humanity; and yet labels, especially when put together, often fail to tell us the full story - and who knows how they may continue to change as new hierarchies and power-plays begin to take precedence over our ‘old’ ways of life? Maybe at the heart of humanity, beneath the burden of our personal histories, and the distinctions and categories which form personal identity and distinction, we will eventually come to find that those ‘others’ who once seemed so different from ourselves are, in fact, far more similar than we once thought.

What if in our world, and in this time, this uncertainty could lead to open dialogue, rather than open animosity, and therefore further our understanding of ourselves and others? I am not sure it is always possible, but, even in the confusion, I believe there are those individuals who do understand, and who do forgive - they have been in my life, and I hope I will always remember them as my friends.

Denver’s Civic Center Monuments Reflective Writing from the Community This section includes author’s responses to monuments located within Denver’s Civic Center area. The authors are participants in Lighthouse Writers Hard Times writing workshop. Celebrating its fourth year, Hard Times is Lighthouse’s banner community engagement program. It serves individuals experiencing homelessness, extreme poverty, and other difficult times. Hard Times is in partnership with Denver Public Library’s central branch and the Denver VOICE street newspaper.

Frontier Justice by Sue Blosten Guns feature in many monuments around Denverâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Civic Center as though gunpowder frosts the air.

The rifle-toting monuments embody heroes at the same time their hollow bronzes also taste of the bitter tang of struggle.

Two cannons squatting on Capitol Hill growl. Cable encircles the Smoky Hill Trail Pioneer Monument as it busily jets water in tempo with the traffic aiming to get out of Denver.

All these monuments have their place in the West.

Steep stairs rise up to buffalo and wild cat, a pioneer man and woman each clutching a rifle, protection and game killer. The topmost bronze man on a stallion requires a star-gazing pose.

Yes, the cowboy astride his horse, rifle in hand; The chiseled Native American clutching a long spear as he gallops along Or the World War II GI rifle at the ready on which a live member of the dove family the common pigeon perches and coos Or the Pioneers on the Smoky Hill Trail firearms at hand

They belong in Denver.

Pioneers in the Park by Sue Blosten Hundreds of times Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve zoomed through the intersection of Colfax and Broadway never noticing the pioneer monument installed in 1936 restored in the 1980s. On foot I can get close to the towering fountain rife with details Jetting water splashes compete with rushing cars

Water, sculptures loom high above my head so I cannot see all of the elegant work of the sculptor. I take a few photographs with my phone. Later I look at them. The pioneer woman holds a rifle in one arm, the man on the other side of the tower holds a gun too. It is only when I study the photos taken from different angles that I see the woman is holding a baby in her other arm. The hairs on my arms stand up. The Smoky Hill Trail that ended on this spot now amid high rises and burgeoning traffic lost many men and women to thirst and Indian attacks.

Now what I want to see in the Civic Center Park is a contemporary monument that is low to the ground and friendly. There are people who donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t own shelter who come to this land to rest in the sun. Let us have a monument to these people that is on the ground as they are. Let it be a sculpture of a group of people, some lying down on the green grass, some sitting cross legged chatting with each other. Let us see their features in ourselves.

THE CROCODILE OF WAR & DENVER MONUMENTS by Dean Glorso Denverites & all Americans unknowingly drink from the cool waters but rarely does the crocodile of war grasp their skulls they sleep peacefully in a land of many freedoms while their protectors travel to far-away places in the dead of night, across vast oceans Veterans of Foreign Wars engage in the uncertainty of battle face the brutality of war the likelihood of injury the possibility of capture and the crocodileâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s jaws of death where a half century ago just as veterans often do today many young warriors answered the call of duty for a foreign conflict in a place called Vietnam for more than ten years these young combatants struggled many returning from multiple tours while protester and politician clashed with a world press oJ preconceived opinions never was a winning strategy implemented only hate for the warrior baby killers they were called no welcome map greeted them home a government left them to skirmish with agent orange and PTSD yet most all of these veterans became silent patriots returned to jobs, and families in the U.S.A. and moved on with their lives didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t speak of Vietnam until the Memorial Wall in D.C. was erected

and the American public was educated as to the political malfunctions and injustices placed on young men and women acting out their patriotic duties as we continue to heal from the pains of war may all memorial monuments we place in Denver today never be tom down, and may American patriotism be instilled, admired, and maintained for future generations, who could potentially be gnawed but not hacked, by the crocodile of war

Image: Footprint of the Veteranâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Monument on the West Side of the Colorado State Capitol

A Missing Monument by Louis Kennedy I searched in a dream for a Denver monument while walking through Civic Center Park. The monument I found was of those who came to Denver before us in wagons, on horseback, on foot and with assorted pack animals as part of wagon trains. It spoke to emigrants from near and far and across time, immigrating to a new world and an untamed and sometimes unwelcoming country. It gave a vision to those who are finding their own way today and a sense of belonging and purpose to those who feel disconnected. It linked people and their purpose regardless of certainty or direction. It gave perspective of how formative and important the journey is compared to the destination. The monument’s image centered on a covered wagon, a prairie schooner, drawn by three mules and accompanied by travelers on foot wearied by the jostling and worn by the miles of the baking high desert terrain. The monument captured a journey in process then and now. A disparate group of travelers was in the scene, some were family, but others appeared to have been enlisted along the way with only the passage in common. The artist created a captivating image that invited observers to lean-in and aid

the fatigued travelers to dislodge the stuck wagon from a rut in the path. The patina of the bronze on the adolescent boy’s shoulder and the wagon’s back edge gave way to a brilliant polished shine where visitors to the monument laid their hands as if to say “we recognize your struggle.” This image represented an affirmation across time of dreams shared by all travelers, to further them along their path. The monument spoke to those contemplating their own journeys and dreams today. The methods and modes of travel will always change but the aching for a better life, a life well-lived, still infuses our daily human struggle. Visitors relate to this image of so many years ago when Denver was a waypoint along many western sojourns. The monument included an unlikely piano lashed to the wagon as an astounding image of the variety, determination and delicacy of dreams carried in the wagons headed west. Perhaps the piano also represented a musical legacy the owner planned to pass on to their children and future generations. A legacy and civility too important to be left behind no matter the weight, inconvenience or the madness such a move across the prairie prompted.

When the wind blew across it, the piano produced a haunting sound reminiscent of unending travel for hundreds of days and hundreds of nights through the eternal prairie winds. Visitors recognized the sound and it reminded them of the ache of their own dreams and the uncertainty we each feel when chasing our dreams and the daily and nightly fears and obstacles that threaten them.

As the dream began to close, I saw the monument from across the park at a distance. I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t feel the need to stroke the bronze this time, because I recalled what it told me about Denverâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s spirit. As I exited the park and my dream, I was optimistic about a bright future for Denver so long as we continue to lend each other a helping hand and lean-in.

Rian Kerrane, The Inheritors

This section of the zine highlights a project by local artist, Rian Kerrane. The content relates to the community program that Kerrane has designed for MONUMENTAL, which leads participants through a sculptural workshop casting their hands for a collective monument. Kerrane sees hands, figuratively and literally, as metaphors for the many individuals that comprise a community. The series of photographs featured in the MONUMENTAL Zine catalogues the artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s preceding project, in which she cast the hands of her family members in an effort to record her heritage.

Genetics Examination Family Groupings no.3, 2019 Rian Kerrane

The Inheritors by Rian Kerrane Life-casts in plaster solidify the impromptu, individual expressions captured in this series of photographic studies, Genetics Examination Family Groupings. These gestures become a collective of encoded and abstract messages when grouped in family units presented on serving trays. The hand positions equate with signals, cultural code, and language â&#x20AC;&#x201D;animating and translating voices to become extensions of personal expression and family dynamics. Genetic biological shapes, the record of time and labor, fingerprints and relationships within the group are recorded here in the chosen attitudes whether fingers are double crossed in anticipation, thumbs are up or down, fists are formed, or hands are interlaced or grasping. The urge to instigate a pseudo-scientific catalogue as record of the artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s family provides a means to contextualize her own place and identity. Looking at the present and seeking ancestral and familial links provides the means to quantify and examine natural/artificial situations alluding to the unspoken and spoken complexities we inherit and build. Casts and photographs produced in Ireland in 2019

Genetics Examination Family Groupings no.1, 2019

Genetics Examination Family Groupings no.2, 2019

Genetics Examination Family Groupings no.5, 2019

Genetics Examination Family Groupings no.6, 2019

Thank You

The Organizations Black Cube (a nomadic art museum)

www.blackcube.art

Black Cube is a nonprofit, nomadic art museum headquartered in Denver, Colorado. By operating outside of traditional museum confines, Black Cube endeavors to reach diverse audiences across the globe while supporting artists’ sustainability. At its core, Black Cube stimulates the public realm with ambitious, experimental, and engaging contemporary art that seeks to inspire. To advance its mission, Black Cube offers an artist fellowship, exhibitions, and public programming focused on sustaining artists’ careers and forming meaningful relationships with audiences. Since 2015, Black Cube has worked closely with over 100 artists and produced nomadic exhibitions regionally, nationally, and internationally—from small Colorado mining towns to the world stage of the Venice Biennale. Black Cube was founded by philanthropist, Laura Merage, and is supported by the David and Laura Merage Foundation.

The Denver Theatre District

www.denvertheatredistrict.com

The Denver Theatre District (DTD) enlivens a 16-block area of downtown Denver through interactive, immersive and experimental art and culture events and experiences. It provides creatives with a downtown platform and financial support for sharing their work. The DTD is a private non-profit funded through a revenue share collected from advertising on static and LED screens located throughout the District. The Denver Theatre District invests its outdoor media revenues in cultural and art-based experiences, most of which are free to the public. This model is the first of its kind, setting an example for cities nationwide in how to leverage private revenue streams to fund public art and activity.

Lighthouse Writers Workshop

www.lighthousewriters.org

The mission of Lighthouse Writers Workshop is to provide the highest caliber of artistic education, support, and community for writers and readers in the Rocky Mountain Region and beyond. We strive to ensure that literature maintains its proper prominence in the culture, and that individuals achieve their fullest potential as artists and human beings.

THE MONUMENTAL ZINE IS A COLLABORATIVE PRODUCTION BY BLACK CUBE, THE DENVER THEATRE DISTRICT, 54 AND LIGHTHOUSE WRITERS WORKSHOP. DESIGNED BY DILLON KOGLE.

PRINTED BY ––––– ––––––––––––––– ––––––––––––––– IN DENVER, CO THIS PROJECT IS MADE POSSIBLE 55 THROUGH THE SUPPORT OF THE BONFILSSTANTON AND DAVID AND LAURA MERAGE FOUNDATIONS.