A year ago, artist Jim Denomy stood on 38th Avenue and Chicago Avenue, looking up at the pictorial sign “Toppled Monuments” in the southern corner of Minneapolis, where George Floyd’s life was shortened.
Denomy combined the rethought scene of “The Wizard of Oz” with the text “All mothers were summoned when George Floyd called his mother.”
In the surrealistic landscape, a native man wearing a feathered headdress sat in a grass chair and drank in front of the Statue of Liberty, who had fallen on his back. “This wolf is chasing two rabbits in the background. It’s a police atrocities,” he told reporters.
Famous for using dark humor to provide serious social commentary from a Native American perspective, Denomie began Tuesday at his home in Franconia, where his wife, writer Diane Wilson, daughter Cheryl, and Sheila. , Died of cancer with Jody.
A master of color and humor, Denomy wanted everyone to learn from his art without lessons, including the McKnight Special Artist Award and the Native Arts & Culture National Artist Fellowship. Collected praise.
The Walker Art Center, Wiseman Museum, Minneapolis Institute of Art (Mia) and Denver Art Museum have added his work to the collection and have performed at international shows in Mexico City, Vienna and Sao Paulo.
But while he enjoyed recognition, Denomy was always thinking about his community. A devoted father, grandfather, and uncle, he was a young artist champion and a man who appeared in every opening.
“Art Daddy” is what Anishinaabe artist Andrea Carlson lovingly called him. She and Denomy shared the exhibition of the first major museum in Mia in 2007.
“He had paint and stuff here and there on his blade and dust on the drywall, and appeared in the opening from work,” she said. (Denomy’s daytime job was to build drywall.) “He jumped off the truck, dusted it, and stepped into the show.
“New York artists don’t.”
Work on taboo with humor
Denomie’s work brings to mind the story of an American colonial pioneer and confronts the country’s troubled past with playful but bitter wit.
In his painting “Edward Curtis Paparazzi,” a controversial Native American photographer is portrayed as an annoying voyeur who steals photos at the fictional Black Hills Golf and Country Club. (“Golf is my greatest passion than painting,” the artist once said, often taking breaks in his studio to practice putting.)
A longtime friend of Twin Cities artist Frank Gaard said he loves the “colors” of Denomy’s work. place. “
Denomy stuffed his work with symbolism. In his 2014 Tonto / Lone Ranger series, two TV characters represent an uneasy relationship between native and white culture.
“For a very humble and kind person, Jim had a killer wit,” said Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Louise Erdrich, a registered member of the Chippewa Windian Turtle Mountain Band. “When Jim Tonto complains,’You lied to me,’ and the Lone Ranger,’Get used to it,’ he summarizes the relationship of Native White for over 500 years.”
Inspired by protests against the Dakota Access Oil Pipeline near the Standing Rock Indian Reservation, in his “Standing Rock” series in the late 2010s, both benevolent and confused people lived in apocalyptic landscapes. is. The two-headed dog-a mythical Cerberus hint guarding the gates to Hades-barks as natives canoe down the orange, red, and pink rivers. Donald Trump seeks a blindfolded goddess of justice.
Rabbit, an animal identified by Denomy, has also appeared in his work and many other works.
“He always includes himself in some way. The long tradition of political painting that the artist is a witness, whether he is there as a gym or as a rabbit, is” I’m on the lookout for this, “said Mia’s curator Robert Cozzolino.
Ojibwe’s life in art
Denomier, who joked that he was “late bloomer,” did not know his Anishinaabe career until later in life.
His name for Ojibwe is Ashiganark (Red-winged Blackbird), but he didn’t hold a naming ceremony until his mid-thirties. This is traditionally done around the age of one. He saw his history as part of a federal “assimilation campaign.” When Native Americans moved to the center of the city.
Born July 6, 1955 at Luck Court Oles Reservation near Hayward, Wisconsin, and raised by a single mother in southern Minneapolis. He always wanted to be an artist, but a coaching counselor at Minneapolis South High School discouraged him from that path and dropped out at the age of 16.
For the next 20 years, Denomy drank and had a party. At the same time, he found a job in the construction industry, bought a house, got married and had two daughters.
He finally decided to stay calm and entered the University of Minnesota in 1990. He intended to study health science, but took an art class where the professor recognized his talent. Another surprise in his college days: his son, Cody.
He met his second wife, Diane, 27 years ago at a party near the university.
“We were both reaching for Jimmy Dean sausage rolls at the same time, we were joking,” Wilson said. “Then we started talking about art-it’s a natural leap from sausage rolls to art-and in that first conversation … you know how you can recognize your partner when you meet them. Is it something very deep? “”
As Denomy’s illness spread, photographs of the artist and his work flooded social media.
“He’s in everyone’s house and everyone’s wall,” Carlson said. “He was very prolific.”
In 2004, he started a daily painting project called “Voluntary MFA” (Master of Fine Arts). He has produced over 300 portraits. “They were like snow,” he told Star Tribune in 2019.
Carlson was a graduate student at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design at the time. Denomy visited her studio and told Minneapolis gallerist Todd Bockley to see her work on her way home.
“He was my champion, he changed my life,” Carlson said. “He was joking that he was going to ride my coattail, and at that time he was already a celebrity to me.”
Ponca artist Julie Buffalohead has known Denomy since 1995. “He really encapsulated his native values in his kindness, generosity and humor.” He is a very modest person and puts humanity into a very self-serving world of art. I brought it. “
He and Wilson, who recently retired from drywall work, planned to do full-time art at home, which turned the garage into a writing studio for her. He had a vast upstairs studio.
“It’s just a broken heart,” Wilson said. “He had a lot of work to do, so there were more paintings in him.” Her husband’s work “inspired her imagination” with the color and shape of her internal organs. “.
In Ojibwe culture, there is a belief that the soul begins a four-day journey when it leaves the body. “There is a teaching that he goes to the moon and from there he enters the universe,” Carlson said. “It’s comforting to me to think about it.”
Denomy died ahead of his sister Jackie. He is surviving by his wife. Daughters Cheryl Lane and Sheila Umland, son Cody Saison, and stepdaughter Jody Bean. Mother Pamela Almukist; 9 grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews.