Photo by From the Hip Photography

“Small world!” A short but powerful phrase that binds seemingly disparate people who share an unusual and unexpected connection. With extreme limitations currently in place, socializing with new people and having these “small world” moments is less frequent, but thanks to the internet we can still have this experience in the virtual realm. Since the opening of Devon Dikeou’s “Mid-Career Smear” at The Dikeou Collection, people have been sharing their photos of the exhibition online, circulating them far and wide. One such image found its way to a woman named Lizzi in New York City who was amazed to see a vivid element from her childhood past be one of the defining visual features of “Mid-Career Smear.”

Fragment of original wallpaper installed at the home of Lucy Sharp Dikeou

Back track to exactly 2 years ago… to when Devon happened upon scraps of torn up wallpaper mixed in with one of her old drawing portfolios. Finding this immediately transported her to her mother’s home circa 1970, where this wild psychedelic floral wallpaper adorned a petite powder room. It was removed for redecorating, but three pieces were salvaged by Devon who knew they would be useful later. These pieces were enough to create a digital replica of the full pattern, and were handed over to a custom wallpaper company for production. By October 2019 the wallpaper was printed, shipped, and installed at The Dikeou Collection as part of the “Mid-Career Smear” exhibition.

Photo by Cori Anderson

Hung in the same room as Wade Guyton’s “the Room Moved the Way Blocked (Stage 1)” and accented with a grasshopper green ceiling, the wallpaper pattern became a crucial part of the exhibition’s branding and appeared on invitations, brochures, pamphlets, and other signage. Precisely two weeks after the opening, an email popped up from someone named Lizzi who received photos of the wallpaper from a friend and said that she grew up with the exact same design in her family’s New York apartment in the late 1960s. A very unique and surprising “small world” moment!

Photo courtesy of Lizzi Katz

But it didn’t stop there… after a brief exchange of how their mothers’ taste in decorating shaped their aesthetic views, Lizzi shared another photo of a different wallpaper from growing up. Lo and behold, Devon also lived with this very same wallpaper – hung in another powder room at her mother’s house. Granted, wallpaper was popular décor back then, but these patterns are particularly unique, and for two people who have never met and live in different parts of the country have two of the same designs is a pretty significant coincidence. And for the daughters of these two people to connect 5 decades later, in the midst of global isolation, makes the story even more magical. In an email Lizzi expressed that this discovery and exchange “has been some brightness in this crazy overwhelming time.”

Photo courtesy of Lizzi Katz, Jonathan Katz, and Sandor Ellix Katz

All of us at The Dikeou Collection hope you are finding ways to stay connected to those you know, and even those you don’t, during a time where so much is unknown. Use art as the bridge, the conduit, the olive branch or whatever you need it be to connect and ground you in the familiar, and also be the means to discover and explore. Thanks to Lizzi for reaching out to us!

Since 2013, independent curator Cortney Lane Stell has worked closely with artist Devon Dikeou to bring the idea of Devon’s mid-career retrospective to life. The first decision, naturally, was that The Dikeou Collection would be the most fitting venue for the exhibition as it matches the expansive, varied, meandering, and oftentimes quirky nature of not only Devon’s art practice but also her history in publishing zingmagazine and eye for collecting contemporary art. After many happy hour meetings over corndogs and tater tots, and about 30 floor plan revisions, the time came in April 2019 for The Dikeou Collection to temporarily “go dark” and prepare to install Devon Dikeou’s “Mid-Career Smear” retrospective, which is now open to the public Wednesday-Friday, 11am-5pm and by appointment.

Existential Viewing, 1986

With 7 years of anticipation built up, the opening reception on February 20 was an explosion of hundreds of people, kick ass music, amusing performance antics, food galore, and overwhelming amounts of love and support for one of the most prolific artists to come out of Denver. From her very early work from her MFA days at School of Visual Art (Existential Viewing, 1986 Ongoing) to work so new that the paint just dried (Café de Flore, 2019 Ongoing), “Mid-Career Smear” truly captures the evolution of Dikeou’s work through the decades. Even her more ephemeral participatory performance works like Out, Out Damn Spot (1992 Ongoing) and One Little Piggy (1991 Ongoing) gave visitors the chance to fully indulge in the wide yet particular scope of her practice.

Security/Insecure, 1989, Security Gate Installation with Plexiglas

Though there are several conceptual threads that weave throughout Devon’s work, the one that permeates the entire exhibition is the idea of “in-betweeness.” This “in-between” is similar to what one would call a liminal space, but Devon gives it more structure and definition – making it less mysterious and amorphous. The most potent examples of this are the City Gates installations (1989 Ongoing) and So We Must Keep Apart… (1993 Ongoing) which are actual doorways that one would typically encounter on a city street or in their neighborhood. The City Gates are installed with nothing behind them but a wall, so they are like passageways to nowhere. By removing the access from the gates, the viewer is left with an even greater urge of wanting to pass through them. So We Must Keep Apart… is a screen door that visitors are able to open and walk through, which seems rather arbitrary until the door gives a loud SLAM and snaps the brain into realizing that they hit a transitory spot in the exhibition. The “in-betweeness” is also apparent in smaller yet still very defined objects, like mirrors, flowers, and interior décor.

In addition to The Dikeou Collection venue downtown, “Mid-Career Smear” will also occupy the Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax (opening March 19), Tiny Town (opening June 6), and an airstream trailer at 13^th & Cherokee. Underscoring the immense breadth of Devon’s practice, this ancillary network points once again to “in-betweeness” and how her practice extends beyond typical museum and gallery spaces.  There will be public receptions to commemorate the opening of these additional venues, as well a variety of unique programming throughout the duration of the exhibition. Information about upcoming events can be found on The Dikeou Collection event calendar, through our email list, and all of our social media platforms.

-Hayley Richardson

March 29, 2019 was the last day Dikeou Collection was open to the public, marking the beginning of the collection’s very first full exhibition rotation. Since April we have been hard at work de-installing, packing, and storing the work of 37 artists occupying 33 rooms and 2 buildings in preparation for the forthcoming Devon Dikeou Mid-Career Smearretrospective exhibition opening on February 20, 2020 at Dikeou Collection. If you have visited the collection before, then you are aware of the scope of this project and might be wondering how we handled some of our very large and complex pieces, like Johannes VanDerBeek’s Newspaper Ruined, Nils Folke Anderson’s Untitled (California), and Agathe Snow’s Sludgie The Whale. We can’t reveal all our secrets, but we are happy to share a little glimpse of some of what’s been going on behind the scenes here for the past couple months.

Dikeou Collection is known for being home to artwork that challenge ideas of space, scale, and material – objects that many would consider “difficult” to house and maintain. Johannes VanDerBeek’s Newspaper Ruined is arguably the most intricate piece in the collection, consisting of four large tables pushed together upon which a city made entirely out of newspaper rests. It took a lot of preliminary planning on how to go about removing and storing this dense and fragile installation.

Many detailed photos were taken of every square inch of the work, documenting where each little piece sat in relation to another. Our art handler Dmitri developed a number-letter system to determine where everything goes on the tables, and then stored each piece in a box or tray labeled with the respective ID. It took over a week to complete!

Untitled (California) by Nils Folke Anderson is a very large movable sculpture (so large you can’t even fully walk into the room it occupies) made out of nine interlocking Styrofoam squares. This piece was constructed in-house by the artist, so it didn’t come equipped with any original packing material or deconstruction method. Because of its large size, unpredictable mobility, and deteriorative nature of the material, we had to completely dismantle the work.

While this may seem like heresy, we did it in the most honorable way possible by communicating with the artist beforehand, documenting the process, and preserving leftover remnants of the work. What took a couple days to construct was disassembled and removed in a matter of minutes.

Agathe Snow’s Sludgie The Whaleis another large-scale installation that envelopes a whole room with painted tarps, foam rolled and wrapped in muslin, plastic, and wire.

Like Untitled (California) this is another work that was assembled by the artist without specific instructions on how it all comes together, so our research assistant Hannah created a “map” of the work and developed an ID system similar to Newspaper Ruinedso we will know how to put it back together when we re-install the collection in a couple years.

One of the central tenents of Dikeou Collection is that all artwork remains permanently on view – exhibitions are not rotated but rather expanded – so de-installing the collection in its entirety is now a major chapter in its history. Soon we will begin the process of installing Devon Dikeou’s artwork for Mid-Career Smear, curated by Cortney Lane Stell, which will mark another milestone for us. It has been quite the journey leading up to this point and we can’t wait to share more updates with you along the way.

-Hayley Richardson

March 29, 2019 was the last day Dikeou Collection was open to the public, marking the beginning of the collection’s very first exhibition rotation. All artwork on display in the Colorado Building will be de-installed over the next several months in preparation for the upcoming retrospective exhibition, Devon Dikeou: Mid-Career Smear, curated by Cortney Lane Stell. Mid-Career Smear will open February 2020, and will transform the curiously unusual space into an entirely new experience that will highlight Devon’s practice in a generous and progressive manner. Stell says, “I am thrilled to debut the reimagined spaces of the collection with an exhibition that looks at the expansive practice of artist and Colorado-native, Devon Dikeou. The exhibition will celebrate the diverse artistic achievements of Devon and pay homage to the unique space that she occupies in the region’s contemporary art history.“ Devon Dikeou: Mid-Career Smearwill be on view until 2021, at which time all original Dikeou Collection artwork, as well as new acquisitions, will return on view.

While the main exhibition spaces in The Colorado Building will be closed until the retrospective opening, Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax will remain open for select events and by appointment. On Thursday, April 4, we will celebrate the release of zingmagazine issue 25 at the pop-up (312 E Colfax Ave) with a public reception from 6-9pm. Complimentary food, refreshments, music, and of course copies of the new issue will be provided. Guitarist Jonny Barber, who is also an author and founder of The Colfax Museum, will perform originals and choice covers, with Americana, rock, rockabilly, country & blues all making an appearance. He will be accompanied by bassist Lance Bakemeyer to play us some retro as well as modern tunes. Jeremy ‘Sinistarr’ Howard is a Denver-based DJ hailing from Detroit who is known for his innovative and adventurous sets that deftly explore the soul of yesteryear with a modern context. As a producer, he has releases on legendary labels such as Metalheadz Platinum, Renegade Hardware, and Creative Source. All are welcome to attend this event and hang out with us one last time before we go quiet for a while…

zingmagazine is a New York-based contemporary art publication Edited/Published by artist Devon Dikeou since 1995. Issue #25 includes projects by Sarah Staton, Amy Gatrell, Rachel Cole Dalamangas, Allan McCollum, Shamus Clisset, Robert Smithson, Kerri Scharlin, Gaston Karquel/Geraldine Postel & Magnin, Polly Apfelbaum, Craig Dykers, Michael ross, Jennifer Grimsyer, Karin Bravin, Maria Antelman/Melanie Flood, Willard Boepple, Heidi Zuckerman, Christian Schumann, Elmgreen & Dragset/Maureen Sullivan, Bjarne Melgaard, Romana Drdova, Edgar Serrano/Benjamin Donaldson, Deborah Kass, Natalie Rivera, Brandon Johnson, Walter Robinson, poster by Mark Licari, mask by Romana Drdova, and koozie by Shamus Clisset.

Walking into the main space of the Dikeou Collection, the visitor is greeted by some striking (and somewhat unsettling) characters: two colossal, inflatable, hot-pink bunny rabbits. These rabbits are so massive, in fact, their heads squish against the ceiling, forcing their creepy cartoon eyes down onto the viewer in a fluoride stare. Their uncanny smiles and stretched latex skin make it hard to look away, leading us to question if it’s sympathy, suspicion, or a misunderstood sweetness at the heart of our intrigue. Momoyo Torimitsu, a Japanese artist and creator of the disturbingly saccharine Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable, has succeeded in her plot to disrupt reality through a palpable, yet hard to articulate, feeling of unease.

According to Torimitsu, the innocence implied by the image of a bunny coupled with their disconcerting size and situation is an exploration of cuteness and its limits. This exploration is not simply aesthetic; it is also socially critical. While created for a show in Paris in 2000, the oeuvre stands in conversation with the pervasive influence of kawaii (cute) imagery in Japan, specifically as it relates to consumerism and prescribed gender roles. On her website, Torimitsu writes that the target audience for cute character goods is not only children but also adult women, a fact which demonstrates the entanglement of consumer culture with a conception of gender identity that regulates Japanese women’s ‘ways of communication, negotiation, smiling, and sexuality.’ Though sensational, this piece has the capability to inspire profound meditation on the pressure to conform to societal boundaries that discourage personal expansion and deny full extension of self. Torimitsu argues, via hot-pink inflatable rabbits, for social reformation.

Plastic bunnies aren’t the only way Torimitsu accomplishes social critique. Just a room over from Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable, a man dressed in business attire is poised mid-crawl on the floor. Life-like enough to elicit an ‘oh shit!’ or two, Miyata-san, the primary component of the piece Miyata Jiro, is an automaton that has toured the world with Torimitsu. 6 TV screens on the wall next to the robot (another element of the piece) show the pair out in the streets of New York, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, London, Amsterdam, and Sydney. The TVs display Miyata-san inching jerkily down sidewalks around the world, while Torimitsu, dressed as a nurse, attends to him. Looks of confusion, worry, amusement, wonder, and, sometimes, anger follow them, as people struggle to make sense of Miyata Jiro and their own role in the performance.

Miyata-san crawls to represent his identity as a corporate soldier, debilitated by an obsession to succeed within a capitalist system. Though people (mainly those unsure about whether or not Miyata-san is an actual person) may be concerned for the robot’s well-being, the audience is ultimately powerless to help Miyata-san stand up, stop, or reach his non-existent (and thus, unachievable) destination. In light of this dynamic, this piece can also be read as a meta-commentary on the function of the artist - they may facilitate in the illumination of societal issues but are similarly powerless as an individuals to change the way things are.

Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable and Miyata Jiro shock us into contemplation of darker themes Torimitsu has strategically buried beneath spectacular exteriors. Who knew inflatable bunnies could become a symbol for societal restriction and regulation of identity? Or that an animated android businessman could serve as a metaphor for the futility of modern existence? Bleak and familiar as these messages may be, we can appreciate Torimitsu’s work for its ability to galvanize visceral and psychological reactions that play with our conceptions of the abstract and tangible. Torimitsu’s bunnies and robots hoodwink our imaginations, giving form to greater truths and critical reverie through disturbance and enchantment.

- Mimi King