In the routine of life our surroundings coalesce into a blur of sameness. We switch into autopilot to get through another day without paying much attention to the world around us. With headphones and smart phones we disengage even further while navigating public spaces that have been passed through hundreds of times with the mindset that there is nothing new worth observing. But one day something new does appear - a colorful mural, a kinetic sculpture, music coming out of a storm drain, or a dance performance on a rooftop. This is public art, and it is here to remind us that the spaces we casually pass through are communal environments where interesting and meaningful things happen everyday. As Denver’s growth continues to accelerate, the value of public art grows along with it, putting the city’s economic, social, intellectual, and creative aptitude on display for the world to see. On May 15, Denver Arts & Venues presented its Imagine 2020 Interactive Series on Public Art, a full-day symposium with panels and presentations by artists, commissioners, curators, and educators about the city’s public art program. It was an an eye-opening event that focused on why public art is important, how it comes into being, and who is involved in the process from conception to installation.

Artist Jon Rubin delivered the keynote address, in which he talked about how he uses the audience as part of the medium of his public art. He said that public art has the ability to operate on a local level while having a global reach, which is an idea that never seemed so obvious until someone says it out loud. Rubin has first-hand experience with the global reach of local art and has done two public/participatory works in Denver: Thinking About Flying at the Museum of Contemporary Art in 2012 and Playing Apart which took place throughout the downtown area in 2010. Rubin expands public art beyond materiality and turns it into something that not only redefines a space but intervenes on social interaction and gives people the opportunity to think about the spaces they occupy in unexpected ways. Denver could benefit from more public art like Rubin’s with a focus on community activity as it adds variety and spontaneity to the traditional public art forms that populate the city. The city’s sculptures and murals, though, have an important place in its local history as well as the greater history of public art in America. 

The first panel, “Public Art and the Big WHY,” moderated by Denver’s Public Art Manager Michael Chavez, delved into the origins of public art in the U.S. and how it has evolved and stays current in today’s urban planning. Art historian Marisa Lerer is a current assistant professor at Manhattan College and former lecturer at University of Denver who has done significant research on art in the public sphere. She spoke about the City Beautiful Movement of the late 19th century and its purpose in increasing civic virtue through beautiful art and architecture and how the movement influenced Denver. Mayor Robert W. Speer, in office from 1904 to 1912, was an ardent believer in the City Beautiful Movement, and launched several projects to improve the city’s landscape with a desire to transform Denver into a worldly destination. Public art in Denver did not stray far from City Beautiful standards for several decades but it is now home to public installations by notable modern and contemporary artists like Herbert Bayer, Mark di Suvero, Claes Oldenburg, and Luis Jiménez. These works expose locals and visitors alike to unusual ideas in familiar spaces, thus making the art relatable, accessible, and part of everyday life. 

Caryn Champine, Planning Services Director of Denver, talked about the importance of public art in neighborhood planning, and how public art can be used to distinguish the unique characteristics of each neighborhood and also help the local population navigate their neighborhoods more effectively. She focused on Globeville, a community of historical significance and industry that needed some infrastructure improvements, particularly traffic operations and road maintenance. By integrating public art with city planning, Globeville has been able to meet the needs of its citizens while maintaining its unique physical attributes and establishing a strong sense of place. 

Architectural designer Beth Rosenthal expanded upon some of the ideas that Caryn addressed by pointing out that keeping a sense of authenticity becomes more and more crucial as cities grow. The town square, a place that was once the central area where people gathered to share information and ideas, is gradually becoming a fixture of a bygone era, and she proposes that the town square needs to be reimagined as something that can exist in multiple spaces as well as ephemeral spaces. Public art serves as an important identifying feature of these spaces and encourages dialogue and exchange like the town square once did. Mosenthal challenged the audience to imagine what Denver would look like without its public art, and that vision would be pretty desolate and contradictory to the to progress we strive for. 

The second panel “From the Studio to the Street: Several Journeys Toward Making Public Art,” allowed Colorado artists Wopo Holup, Sandra Fettingis, and Randy Marold to talk candidly about their experiences creating art for the public domain. Mandy Renaud, the Public Art Coordinator for Denver International Airport was also part of the discussion, which was moderated by Martha Weidmann, co-founder of NINE dot ARTS consulting company. The artists said they got into public art for different reasons - either by intentionally applying for opportunities, winning a prize, or by the sheer luck of being at the right place at the right time. An important topic of discussion was the difference between public art and art in public space, which is that art in public space can be of any genre while public art is a genre of its own. It involves different strategies, is a slower process, and requires working with numerous people and entities as opposed to the solitary artist working in the studio. Some studio art has the ability to transition easily from the gallery to the public realm, but when an artist works with the intention of having their art exist in public during the entire creation process then it tends be much more effective. Public artists create for an audience that does not always “speak the same language” as those who are more acclimated to being in the presence of art, and when they work they consciously leave room for the unknown. This panel revealed that public artists maintain an important balance between manifesting their own vision and fostering a vision for the community as well. 

After a nice lunch with different community-led discussion tables, it was time to move into the second half of the symposium with “Public Art 301: From Application to Installation.” This panel started with a question for the audience: Who here is an artist? More than half raised their hands. Although this panel focused on the details of how to apply for a public art project, it offered tips and insider information that would be helpful to an artist working on any application, whether it be for school, a residency, a call for an entry, or an award. Presenters Rudi Cerri, the Public Art Administrator for Denver Arts & Venues, Raquel Vasquez of WESTAF, and RTD’s Public Art Manager Brenda Tierney shared all the Do’s and Don’ts of the public art application and implementation process, from selecting the best images for your proposal to answering standard jury questions and working with contractors and fabricators. This advice from the people who help curate Denver’s art landscape pushed the door open even further when it comes to transparency for artists, who may feel overwhelmed or confused about how to get their ideas off the ground. It also reinforced the central theme that public art is for everyone and that the process should be as open as the product. 

The fourth and final panel, “Public Art and Social Practice,” moderated by Zoe Larkins, Curatorial Assistant of Modern & Contemporary Art at Denver Art Museum, shifted the focus from applications and carefully orchestrated fabrications and installations to public art that is spontaneous and ephemeral. Two of the panelists, Yumi Roth and Connor McGarrigle, have each done public art projects that analyzes the “lay of the land” rather than focusing on one specific site, and how residents navigate their city and personally identify with its greatest landmarks and remote corners. The other two panelists, graffiti muralist Gamma and the yarn bombing members of Ladies Fancywork Society, make public art with a temporary lifespan but that appears frequently enough to qualify as a fixture in Denver’s public art repertoire. Because all of these people have made art that focuses on immediate issues and interaction, documentation is tantamount to the longevity of their work. Photographs, videos, and writings are the primary ways to document artwork, but the panelists are more interested in art that creates a story - something that will live in the minds of the people who experience it first hand and can contribute to its legacy by talking about it with others. 

There was much enthusiasm, passion, honesty, and insight throughout the entire span of the symposium, and that is all thanks in part to the diversity of the discussion topics and the panelists. This was a nine hour event, and there was hardly a lull that led to boredom or distraction. Public art is something that I appreciate, but I never realized how much energy and excitement is involved until I was in a room full of people who help create it. As part of Imagine 2020’s arts and cultural plan, this symposium showed that Denver is well on its way to becoming a global creative destination if this momentum continues. 

-Hayley Richardson

People frequently ask how often we change the exhibitions at Dikeou Collection, and the answer is “we don’t rotate we just expand.” The collection is blessed with a large space at its main location, but as of last year it became apparent that a secondary location would be necessary not just to accommodate the increasing amount of artwork but also to provide a alternative context and experience. Artwork by Lizzi Bougatsos marked the inaugural installation at the ancillary space known as Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax, followed by Sarah Staton’s Supastore Supastars. On October 22nd, we celebrated the installation of new work in the Pop-Up’s basement by Anicka Yi, Rainer Ganahl, and Devon Dikeou. This opening event was in partnership with Black Cube , a new non-profit nomadic museum in Denver which held its own opening reception for its second pop-up exhibition in the parking lot behind the Dikeou Pop-Up. The simultaneous events brought together a lively mix of Denver’s eclectic art crowd, and was an example of how collaborative events like this strengthen bonds within the creative community.

The basement at Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax was a hangout and jam spot for local musicians at the former Jerry’s Record Exchange. An unlikely venue for the display of fine art, but quite perfect in this particular instance. L’Haine I-V by Anicka Yi, which is comprised of five turtleneck sweaters with bouquets of tempura fried flowers placed in the neck lines a graffiti-covered wall. The earthy, muted tones of the sweaters and flowers contrast with the neon graffiti, but the deteriorated brick serves as a nice backdrop for the dredged and droopy blossoms. Frying the flowers was an interesting process, and one that drew a lot of attention from passersby who had obviously never seen people deep fry roses and daisies in a parking lot before. The public will get used to it, though, as this is something that will have to be redone a few times a month.

Like L’Haine I-V, Rainer Ganahl’s Hermès/Marx has a dichotomous relationship with the space that simultaneously conflicts and reinforces its message. Ganahl screen printed socialist text and symbols over four (authentic) vintage Hermès scarves, an act that erases their value as luxury items but enhances their value as art objects. It is a work of inherent contradictions, so naturally it requires an unconventional stage. The writing on the carpet in the lower image reads, “Henry Ford was a millionaire but he never owned a Cadillac.” Cheers to that.

Devon Dikeou’s Between The Acts: Virginia Woolf envelopes the entire second room of the basement with the luscious textures and patterns of stage curtains seen on celebrated late night talk shows. These replicas, which were originally exhibited at the 2014 NADA Art Fair in Miami Beach, calls attention to what goes on “behind the curtain” and references the comedic vision and personality of each host the curtain represents. The hosts represented by these curtains include Conan O’Brien, Jack Paar, Merv Griffin, Jimmy Fallon, Ed Sullivan, Jimmy Kimmel, and Dick Cavett. Stay tuned for an appearance from Johnny Carson…

The reception at the Dikeou Pop-Up was held in conjunction with the debut of artist Chad Person’s Prospector, the second exhibit organized by Black Cube. Black Cube is a non-profit, experimental art museum that operates nomadically, founded in 2015 with Cortney Lane Stell as the Executive Director and Chief Curator.

Prospector is a monumental inflatable sculpture designed specifically for its location across from the Colorado State Capital building. The sculpture is a monochromatic blue, inspired by the Disney’s Toy Story 2 character, Stinky Pete. For Person, the character draws many references from Denver - from its gold mining history, to the speculation of current tech and real estate booms, and even the connection within the era of digital commerce. The Black Cube, which is a shipping container placed next to the inflatable, holds small 3-D printed models of the Prospector which people can purchase the rights to and print themselves.

Prospector will be on view in the parking lot until November 11.

Denver is expanding by leaps and bounds, and with that comes some growing pains. Space is scarce and rent is high, and people in the arts are often left scrambling trying to make ends meet and their voices heard. Organizations like Black Cube and venues like Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax demonstrate the positive outcomes of venturing into alternative territory. Perhaps the ideals of the pristine white-walled gallery are not just impractical these days, but also falling out of fashion. Dikeou Pop-Up: Colfax exhibits some of the most progressive art in Denver in the grittiest of spaces, and Black Cube does the same with no space at all. This city is full of ingenuity, and no matter how tight the squeeze, the community will always find new and surprising ways to bring people’s creative visions to life.

More photos from the opening receptions can be seen here.

— Hayley Richardson

A person attends a lecture or seminar usually for one of two reasons: he or she is required to go for work or academic purposes, or the person chooses to go out of their own personal interest. People from both situations comprise the audience for these gatherings, thus creating a mixture of those who are energized and engaged and those who are antsy and bored. Moods change, though, and someone can leave with the opposite impression than when they arrived. For twenty years, Rainer Ganahl has attended hundreds of seminars and lectures and photographed the speakers and their respective audiences, which has become his aptly titled “Seminars/Lectures,” or “S/L” series. The Dikeou Collection is home to fourteen of these photo sets, which date from the early days of the series and serve as a document not just of Ganahl’s own intellectual interests, but of the zeitgeist of that particular decade. This project also appeared in issue 15 of zingmagazine , with accompanying text by AS Bessa. This fall recent photographs from “S/L” were exhibited at Kai Matsumiya, which highlighted the artist’s persistent quest for knowledge and dedication to the project, as well as the current intellectual, cultural, and social climates of our time. When someone like Ganahl places themselves in the roles of spectator and artist simultaneously within the speaker-audience exchange, the resulting imagery adds new layers of value and interpretation to the event.

Rainer Ganahl, “Seminars / Lectures
Linda Nochlin, Glory and Misery of Pornography,” 1996, 20” x 24", edition 2/2

The documentation and dissemination of lecture material is rampant these days thanks to the internet, with a special nod to YouTube which now has more than 2,000 TED Talks and countless other lectures available to view. Often the camera will zoom out from behind or to the side of the speaker to show the audience, but all that is seen is rows of shoulders and heads - the audience has no identity or personality. “S/L,” though, gives equal attention to the audience and speaker by allowing each to have their own photograph. This mode of presentation also highlights Ganahl’s interest in the Socratic dialogue, or method, in which there is a dualistic exchange to stimulate critical thinking and illuminate ideas.

Socrates is credited as being one of the founders of Western philosophy, particularly his contributions to the field of ethics. Plato was his greatest student and did much to document his life and teachings. This 17th-century Italian engraving by Johann Friedrich Greuter shows Socrates surrounded by students outdoors where they are not distracted or troubled by the everyday activities happening in the background. The scene can be a metaphor for Socrates’ belief that only the trained mind is prepared to see beneath the deceptive appearances of the words and actions of others to the deeper realities of life. The relationship between instructor and student is rich subject matter for artists as it can take shape in numerous contexts over history.

The idea of “formal education” as we know it today developed in the medieval period and evolved from much older Christian cathedral schools and monastic schools. The setting for Laurentius de Voltolina’s Italian 14th-century painting appears to be inside a church or monastery, and shows that not much has changed in the classroom since medieval times. Teachers’ pets in the front, slackers in the back.

Pieter Mierevelt’s Anatomy lesson of Dr. Willem van der Meer predates Rembrandt’s Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp by fourteen years and was a likely inspiration for the famous work. Mierevelt’s painting gives a clear look at the instruments and the pupils look straight at the viewer as if they are part of the lesson. This image speaks to Ganahl’s aims to dissolve the barriers between teacher, audience, and artist. Anyone else up for some spaghetti and meatballs after class?

Ganahl would find a likely kindred spirit with Joseph Wright of Derby who depicted many forms of learning in his art. Whether it be in the realms of science and astronomy, or art and literature, Derby beautifully captured the wonderment and joy of learning in his subjects. A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrey is representative of the Age of Enlightenment, or Age of Reason, that started in 1766 when this painting was made, where the illumination of the mind is reinforced with the striking light in the scene. Scientific lectures and demonstrations presented by traveling scientists were a popular form of public entertainment during Wright’s lifetime, and, like Ganahl, he likely attended these lectures for his own personal enjoyment and inspiration.

[caption id="attachment_4688" align="alignnone" width="500"] STM620298; Saint Louis Art Museum, Missouri, USA; out of copyright[/caption]

Education for children in America was established during the colonial era and was available only to boys, but co-ed classrooms gained prevalence in the late-18th century. Winslow Homer’s Country Classroom from 1871 depicts a single-room school in the Catskills. Though there are both boys and girls present, they are still seated at opposite sides of the room with the exception of the crying boy sitting with the girls. This time period is when most women were able to work outside the home for the first time, and schoolteaching was popular as it seemed to fit into their “womanly duties.”

Speaking of womanly duties, only women were allowed to instruct other women in art classes in the 19th century because art made and taught by men was much too serious and important to be concerned with the opposite sex. Marie Bashkirtseff’s In the Studio from 1881 carries a tension that emanates from the instructor and one of the students, a feeling to which many art students can relate. The young model in this figure class looks directly at the viewer as if he can sense the tension as well, breaking that invisible artist-subject and subject-viewer barrier with a look that implies, “I can’t believe she just said that.”

Flash forward to the not-so-distant future where outsourced teaching will become the norm. “Engkey” is a robot technology that teachers can access remotely. There are about 30 of these robots in use in South Korea right now, teaching English to primary school kids. Technology is becoming more prevalent in education all the time, and while it can be useful in helping students access information quickly, there is no guarantee in its ability to help students retain this information. There is something to be said about the connection that can only be established through person to person interaction, a crucial aspect in creating memories and making cognitive connections, which is how real learning happens. The day will surely come when robots will be regular fixtures in our homes, workplaces, and schools, but hopefully it will not get to the point where we forget how to teach ourselves and become dependent on machines for knowledge.

Surely Rainer Ganahl would be present for the day that a robot gives a lecture to an audience of humans for the first time for the ever-growing “S/L” series, but for now we can still enjoy the images he captures of humanity today.

“Artists - Recent Photographs from My S/L Series”  is on view at Kai Matsumiya through November 1, 2015.

— Hayley Richardson 

The Dikeou Collection houses some puzzling artworks that defy space, materiality, and presentation, but with some background information provided by one of the docents or from the cell phone tour, visitors can understand the meaning and intent behind them. One of the simplest and most unassuming of works, though, is the one that raises the most questions that can be tricky to explain. A Fine Monday Morning by Luis Macias is a series of ten lithographs that, according to the curator’s statement, meditates on “the between-ness of things.” This includes the “between-ness” of art and decoration, client and creator, what is spoken and what is heard, permanence and impermanence, integration and consumption, real and surreal. The scenes are from inside Bette Midler’s luxurious Fifth Avenue apartment, for which Macias was one of its interior decorators and fabricators. These seemingly banal shots of lamp fixtures and staircases are interrupted by cartoonish speech bubbles filled with phrases that make no sense like, “dirt in the T-shirt Molly is the real brainabuse.” Frustration is the underlying cause of this gibberish, which stems from a broken intercom system that cannot be repaired or replaced - a situation that irks both the designer and the patron. A story such as this, about the dramas of decorating one’s home, would bore your face off if it was told over brunch by your mother-in-law, but Macias turns it into an artful symbolist tale of intrigue that leaves the viewer wanting to know more.

Exhibited alongside A Fine Monday Morning is a thirty-minute video by Macias called Superbarn. Superbarn is a documentation of Lucy Dikeou’s (Devon Dikeou’s mother) home in Aspen, Colorado. The video begins with Lucy telling the story of how the home came into being, starting off as a barn before undergoing renovation in 1969. She mentions the prolific early-twentieth century English poet, novelist, and garden designer, Vita Sackville-West, who transformed the mid-fourteenth century Long Barn in Kent, England into her grand home, thus aligning herself and her domestic achievements with that of English cultural nobility. Ms. Dikeou worked closely with her personal designer to create the detailed, finely tuned interiors of her home, which she describes room by room. Everything from the wallpaper, hand towels, and planters, to the artwork and chandeliers has a unique story about their origins and Lucy’s adventures in acquiring them, which she earnestly recounts with much specificity.

There are moments when Macias’ camera pans across a bookshelf or through a closet of robes when one can hear snippets of conversation from people out of view saying, “I don’t want to go to lunch with him,” or “I wish you wouldn’t say those things.” These brief instances are what make the connection between the video and the lithographs apparent. They are those fragments one overhears from another room, echoing down the hall and permeating through walls, that only make sense when in their immediate presence. Superbarn and A Fine Monday Morning show how the home is an environment that appears orderly on the surface but has surreal undertones created by those who share an intimate relationship with the space, but to which they may not be attuned because they are so enmeshed with their surroundings. Macias has the ability to assimilate himself with these spaces and their residents, but is still far enough removed to notice all the quirky eccentricities and reinterpret them artistically.

Artists and designers have a long history of utilizing one another’s strategies and materials to manifest their own creations, but rarely do they share their underlying concepts of function and expressiveness. An artist like Andrea Zittel and designers like Charles and Ray Eames are examples of professionals who have achieved much success in their abilities to cross over from their respective form/function realms and create a balance between the two. The question remains, though: does one has more precedent or influence than the other? According to New York designer Marc Hohmann , art is “a compass for design.” Conversely, Kevin Buist from ArtPrize posits that art presents questions and problems while design seeks to answer and solve them. They basically constitute two sides of the same coin. Where they do intersect is that both art and design have the ability to convey messages that make us think differently about the world. In regards to Luis Macias, he problematizes domestic space by compounding the familiar with the deranged, and challenges the viewer to probe beyond what is obvious and realize how outlandish the ordinary world can be.

A Fine Monday Morning appears in issue 8 of zingmagazine , and Macias’ statement for the project says, “This three-nippled artist lives and works in the most beautiful and fashionable island in the Mediterranean Sea: Mallorca. When asked about his domestic mood, he answered, ‘What I hate most is to bend down in order to get my slippers under the bed.’” A fine example of an artist presenting a problem. How does the designer in him respond? See below.

-Hayley Richardson

Before visitors enter the Dikeou Collection on the fifth floor of the Colorado Building, they encounter Misaki Kawai’s Mars Investigation Laboratory installation in the building’s lobby. For as massive as the piece is (it couldn’t fit in the elevator to make up to the galleries), few people make mention of it until they see her Untitled (Large Plane), at which point they exclaim, “Oh! This is by the same artist who made that piece downstairs.” Misaki’s style is so distinct that first time viewers can identify her work without even being that familiar with it. Her artwork is an honest reflection of her personality; she believes art should be fun and she values imagination and integrity over technique. On the surface her execution may appear rough and puerile, but anyone who has personally handled, assembled, or physically been inside of these artworks can vouch for how expertly crafted they are. Her familial and cultural background, along with her collector’s mentality, provide the groundwork of her aesthetic, but it is her ability to shun convention and create by her own rules that has made her a stand-out artist in the saturated New York scene.

Misaki’s father was an architect who painted for a hobby while her mother made clothes and puppets. She went to art school in Kyoto and then moved to New York to start her career. In her biography she is compared to Atsuko Tanaka and Yayoi Kusama via her use of color, pattern, and material, but another rich area of Japanese aesthetics that Misaki draws from is heta-uma, “an anime-derived method that risks amateur aesthetics by embracing basic expression.” Heta-uma loosely translates to unskillful but skillful, or as Misaki describes it, “bad technique, good sense,” and was coined in the 1980s by a Japanese illustrator named Teruhiko Yuasa. The style gained traction in the mid-1970s when Japan experienced an economic resurgence and stable political atmosphere. Artists were eager to experiment and assimilated with mainstream culture.

Illustration by Teruhiko Yuasa

Painting by Suzy Amakane

Prevalent characteristics of heta-uma artwork include loud colors, visceral line work, bent perspective, and odd proportions. Scenes are humorous, but also involve violent and/or sexual fantasy. Manic people, bootlegish pop-culture characters, and bizarre imaginary creatures populate the spectacle. In America, heta-uma would fall somewhere along the spectrum between art brut and kitsch, but it is too deliberate and conscious in approach to follow the latter and tends to be more subversive and deranged than the former. Heta-uma is its own brand of weirdness that only the island-dwellers of Japan could concoct, and Misaki Kawai has carved her own niche within this particular genre.

Mars Lab, detail

Large Plane, detail

Large Plane andMars Lab are heta-uma in the sense that they eschew any serious subject matter or commentary and the zany environments look more like something out of a child’s fantasy than art made by an adult. The human characters inside these environments have elongated bodies with torsos that turn into heads with no necks or shoulders, tiny, spindly appendages, and mops of fur for hair. The characters’ faces are photos of people she knows, admires, or of herself (think of those bootleg references). The mad scientists in Mars Lab breed yellow Furby creatures, while members of The Beatles ride first class in Large Plane with a caged gorilla in the back while four versions of Misaki aimlessly pilot the craft. All of the fabrics used in these installations are second-hand and mismatched, clashing with one another and creating a dizzy optical effect; the eye can hardly stay focused, instilling wonder and confusion. Traditionally, heta-uma is two-dimensional, appearing in anime and manga, but Misaki brings the style into the three-dimensional realm, thrusting these miniature yet also mammoth worlds into our reality.

One can’t help but be charmed by the light-hearted innocence that emanates from Misaki’s artwork, but she doesn’t shy away from the risque elements that are a part of heta-uma. Issues of Playboy and internet porn can be found on the plane, and she portrays nudity and other suggestive imagery in other artworks, but exercises enough restraint to keep viewers happily engaged instead of shy away. In broad terms, a lot of Japanese pop art is either cutesy or lurid, but Misaki effortlessly balances this dichotomy, making her an innovator in this particular genre. Heta-uma is still an underground movement, but Misaki’s art moves easily in the public domain, from venues like the Museum of Modern Art in Japan to the Children’s Museum of the Arts in NYC. By fusing the familiar and the domestic with her relentless imagination and quirky techniques, she is able to introduce the heta-uma art form to people of all ages around the globe.

-Hayley Richardson