Art

It's been twenty years since the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard in Laramie, Wyoming. One legacy of his hate-motivated death is the wide collection of artistic responses.

Courtesy of Amanda Huner

Choir students at Rocky Mountain High School knew, when you were in Barbara Lueck’s class, you were with family.

“We called her ‘Mama Lu’ for a reason,” said Doug Usher, a 2000 Rocky graduate. “She was there for you inside and outside the classroom and you could go to her anytime with anything and she would be there, she would listen. She embodies that spirit of what we all want teachers to be.”

So when her former students found out the beloved choir director had cancer, they knew there was only one thing to do.

Stacy Nick / KUNC

For Meow Wolf CEO Vince Kadlubek, being a responsible addition to Denver and its arts community was important from the beginning. It was the reason Meow Wolf chose the location that they did, one that was surrounded by Interstate 25, Elitch Gardens, Pepsi Center, Broncos Stadium at Mile High and not much else.

“You can stand at our site and look around and you don’t see any houses (…) and so that felt better to us,” Kadlubek said during the unveiling of the Santa Fe-based arts collaborative’s corporate social responsibility plan for its new Denver venue.

Courtesy of Colorado Shoe School

Dan Huling and Annabel Reader aren’t your typical couple. For almost two decades Huling has been juggling chainsaws as part of the vaudeville troupe the Handsome Little Devils. Reader is a costume designer and part-time stilt walker.

They were looking for a way to slow down and stay closer to their Bellvue home. But Reader said they didn’t want to lose their artistic edge.

“We’re both creatives," she said. "We both need to make to feel sane.”

Then, on a trip back to her hometown in New Zealand, Reader learned about a shoe-making school. It seemed like a perfect fit.

Courtesy of Bas Bleu Theatre

The song “Somewhere That’s Green” from the musical “Little Shop of Horrors” is one of Fort Collins actor Jonathan Farwell’s favorites. It was a standard part of his wife, Deb Note-Farwell's, repertoire whenever she was invited to sing.

“And every time I heard it, I cried,” Jonathan said. “So that’s really what happens to me now. I don’t know if worse is the word or maybe better -- to feel what it feels like to miss her that much.”