The Federal Theatre, on Federal Boulevard at 38th Avenue. June 20, 2025.
Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
The Federal Theatre will celebrate its grand reopening with a free show on Friday, Sept. 19. The show will feature two bands from northwest Denver: iZCALLi, a Latin rock band and Los Mocochetes, a Chicano funk band.
The show is free and for all ages at 3850 Federal Blvd. Space is limited, so the organizers are encouraging people to reserve their tickets at thefederaltheatre.com.
The 102-year-old theater is being brought back to life by Scott Happel, Andy Bercaw and Peter Ore. They’re the people responsible for bringing back the Oriental Theater in 2012, and they expect to bring the same independent spirit to the Federal.
Happel told Denverite in June that independent music venues are important for the local music scene, and its schedule is already filling up with local bands. For example, Mile High Ska will play on Sept. 25.
The current schedule spans from September through December and can be found on the theater’s website as well.
The theater has more than just concerts scheduled. On Oct.4, HUMP, which has been described as “the world’s best indie erotic film fest,” is coming to the theater.
“We don’t have the same sort of corporate overlords telling us, ‘You can’t do this kind of show anymore. It doesn’t make enough money,’ or whatever,” Happel told Denverite previously. We’re trying to do as wide a variety of stuff as possible.”
Troy Masters was a cheerleader. When my name was called as the Los Angeles Press Club’s Print Journalist of the Year for 2020, Troy leapt out of his seat with a whoop and an almost jazz-hand enthusiasm, thrilled that the mainstream audience attending the Southern California Journalism Awards gala that October night in 2021 recognized the value of the LGBTQ community’s Los Angeles Blade.
That joy has been extinguished. On Wednesday, Dec. 11, after frantic unanswered calls from his sister Tammy late Monday and Tuesday, Troy’s longtime friend and former partner Arturo Jiminez did a wellness check at Troy’s L.A. apartment and found him dead, with his beloved dog Cody quietly alive by his side. The L.A. Coroner determined Troy Masters died by suicide. No note was recovered. He was 63.
Considered smart, charming, committed to LGBTQ people and the LGBTQ press, Troy’s inexplicable suicide shook everyone, even those with whom he sometimes clashed.
Troy’s sister and mother – to whom he was absolutely devoted – are devastated. “We are still trying to navigate our lives without our precious brother/son. I want the world to know that Troy was loved and we always tried to let him know that,” says younger sister Tammy Masters.
Tammy was 16 when she discovered Troy was gay and outed him to their mother. A “busy-body sister,” Tammy picked up the phone at their Tennessee home and heard Troy talking with his college boyfriend. She confronted him and he begged her not to tell.
“Of course, I ran and told Mom,” Tammy says, chuckling during the phone call. “But she – like all mothers – knew it. She knew it from an early age but loved him unconditionally; 1979 was a time [in the Deep South] when this just was not spoken of. But that didn’t stop Mom from being in his corner.”
Mom even marched with Troy in his first Gay Pride Parade in New York City. “Mom said to him, ‘Oh, my! All these handsome men and not one of them has given me a second look! They are too busy checking each other out!” Tammy says, bursting into laughter. “Troy and my mother had that kind of understanding that she would always be there and always have his back!
“As for me,” she continues, “I have lost the brother that I used to fight for in any given situation. And I will continue to honor his cause and lifetime commitment to the rights and freedom for the LGBTQ community!”
Tammy adds: “The outpouring of love has been comforting at this difficult time and we thank all of you!”
Troy Masters and his beloved dog Cody.
No one yet knows why Troy took his life. We may never know. But Troy and I often shared our deeply disturbing bouts with drowning depression. Waves would inexplicitly come upon us, triggered by sadness or an image or a thought we’d let get mangled in our unresolved, inescapable past trauma.
We survived because we shared our pain without judgment or shame. We may have argued – but in this, we trusted each other. We set everything else aside and respectfully, actively listened to the words and the pain within the words.
Listening, Indian philosopher Krishnamurti once said, is an act of love. And we practiced listening. We sought stories that led to laughter. That was the rope ladder out of the dark rabbit hole with its bottomless pit of bullying and endless suffering. Rung by rung, we’d talk and laugh and gripe about our beloved dogs.
I shared my 12 Step mantra when I got clean and sober: I will not drink, use or kill myself one minute at a time. A suicide survivor, I sought help and I urged him to seek help, too, since I was only a loving friend – and sometimes that’s not enough.
(If you need help, please reach out to talk with someone: call or text 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. They also have services in Spanish and for the deaf.)
In 2015, Troy wrote a personal essay for Gay City News about his idyllic childhood in the 1960s with his sister in Nashville, where his stepfather was a prominent musician. The people he met “taught me a lot about having a mission in life.”
During summers, they went to Dothan, Ala., to hang out with his stepfather’s mother, Granny Alabama. But Troy learned about “adult conversation — often filled with derogatory expletives about Blacks and Jews” and felt “my safety there was fragile.”
It was a harsh revelation. “‘Troy is a queer,’ I overheard my stepfather say with energetic disgust to another family member,” Troy wrote. “Even at 13, I understood that my feelings for other boys were supposed to be secret. Now I knew terror. What my stepfather said humiliated me, sending an icy panic through my body that changed my demeanor and ruined my confidence. For the first time in my life, I felt depression and I became painfully shy. Alabama became a place, not of love, not of shelter, not of the magic of family, but of fear.”
At the public pool, “kids would scream, ‘faggot,’ ‘queer,’ ‘chicken,’ ‘homo,’ as they tried to dunk my head under the water. At one point, a big crowd joined in –– including kids I had known all my life –– and I was terrified they were trying to drown me.
“My depression became dangerous and I remember thinking of ways to hurt myself,” Troy wrote.
But Troy Masters — who left home at 17 and graduated from the University of Tennessee at Knoxville — focused on creating a life that prioritized being of service to his own intersectional LGBTQ people. He also practiced compassion and last August, Troy reached out to his dying stepfather. A 45-minute Facetime farewell turned into a lovefest of forgiveness and reconciliation.
Troy discovered his advocacy chops as an ad representative at the daring gay and lesbian activist publication Outweek from 1989 to 1991.
“We had no idea that hiring him would change someone’s life, its trajectory and create a lifelong commitment” to the LGBTQ press, says Outweek’s co-founder and former editor-in-chief Gabriel Rotello, now a TV producer. “He was great – always a pleasure to work with. He had very little drama – and there was a lot of drama at Outweek. It was a tumultuous time and I tended to hire people because of their activism,” including Michelangelo Signorile, Masha Gessen, and Sarah Pettit.
Rotello speculates that because Troy “knew what he was doing” in a difficult profession, he was determined to launch his own publication when Outweek folded. “I’ve always been very happy it happened that way for Troy,” Rotello says. “It was a cool thing.”
Troy and friends launched NYQ, renamed QW, funded by record producer and ACT UP supporter Bill Chafin. QW (QueerWeek) was the first glossy gay and lesbian magazine published in New York City featuring news, culture, and events. It lasted for 18 months until Chafin died of AIDS in 1992 at age 35.
The horrific Second Wave of AIDS was peaking in 1992 but New Yorkers had no gay news source to provide reliable information at the epicenter of the epidemic.
“When my business partner died of AIDS and I had to close shop, I was left hopeless and severely depressed while the epidemic raged around me. I was barely functioning,” Troy told VoyageLA in 2018. “But one day, a friend in Moscow, Masha Gessen, urged me to get off my back and get busy; New York’s LGBT community was suffering an urgent health care crisis, fighting for basic legal rights and against an increase in violence. That, she said, was not nothing and I needed to get back in the game.”
Staff of Gay News City in New York City, which Troy Masters founded in 2002.
“We were always in total agreement that the work we were doing was important and that any story we delved into had to be done right,” Schindler wrote in Gay City News.
Though the two “sometimes famously crossed swords,” Troy’s sudden death has special meaning for Schindler. “I will always remember Troy’s sweetness and gentleness. Five days before his death, he texted me birthday wishes with the tag, ‘I hope you get a meaningful spanking today.’ That devilishness stays with me.”
Troy had “very high EI (Emotional Intelligence), Schindler says in a phone call. “He had so much insight into me. It was something he had about a lot of people – what kind of person they were; what they were really saying.”
Troy was also very mischievous. Schindler recounts a time when the two met a very important person in the newspaper business and Troy said something provocative. “I held my breath,” Schindler says. “But it worked. It was an icebreaker. He had the ability to connect quickly.”
The journalistic standard at LGNY and Gay City News was not a question of “objectivity” but fairness. “We’re pro-gay,” Schindler says, quoting Andy Humm. “Our reporting is clear advocacy yet I think we were viewed in New York as an honest broker.”
Schindler thinks Troy’s move to Los Angeles to jump-start his entrepreneurial spirit and reconnect with Arturo, who was already in L.A., was risky. “He was over 50,” Schindler says. “I was surprised and disappointed to lose a colleague – but he was always surprising.”
“In many ways, crossing the continent and starting a print newspaper venture in this digitally obsessed era was a high-wire, counter-intuitive decision,” Troy told VoyageLA. “But I have been relentlessly determined and absolutely confident that my decades of experience make me uniquely positioned to do this.”
Troy launched The Pride L.A. as part of the Mirror Media Group, which publishes the Santa Monica Mirror and other Westside community papers. But on June 12, 2016, the day of the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando, Fla., Troy said he found MAGA paraphernalia in a partner’s office. He immediately plotted his exit. On March 10, 2017, Troy and the “internationally respected” Washington Blade announced the launch of the Los Angeles Blade.
Troy Masters and then-Rep. Adam Schiff. (Photo courtesy of Karen Ocamb)
In a March 23, 2017 commentary promising a commitment to journalistic excellence, Troy wrote: “We are living in a paradigm shifting moment in real time. You can feel it. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Sometimes it’s toxic. Sometimes it’s perplexing, even terrifying. On the other hand, sometimes it’s just downright exhilarating. This moment is a profound opportunity to reexamine our roots and jumpstart our passion for full equality.”
Troy tried hard to keep that commitment, including writing a personal essay to illustrate that LGBTQ people are part of the #MeToo movement. In “Ending a Long Silence,” Troy wrote about being raped at 14 or 15 by an Amtrak employee on “The Floridian” traveling from Dothan, Ala., to Nashville.
“What I thought was innocent and flirtatious affection quickly turned sexual and into a full-fledged rape,” Troy wrote. “I panicked as he undressed me, unable to yell out and frozen by fear. I was falling into a deepening shame that was almost like a dissociation, something I found myself doing in moments of childhood stress from that moment on. Occasionally, even now.”
From the personal to the political, Troy Masters tried to inform and inspire LGBTQ people.
“Just recently he invited us to participate with the LA Blade and other partners to support the LGBTQ forum on Asylum Seekers and Immigrants. He cared about underserved community. He explored LGBTQ who were ignored and forgotten. He wanted to end HIV; help support people living with HIV but most of all, he fought for justice,” Zaldivar says. “I am saddened by his loss. His voice will never be forgotten. We will remember him as an unsung hero. May he rest in peace in the hands of God.”
“It pains me to know that my dear, beautiful and amazing friend Troy is no longer with us … He always gave me and many people light,” Salcedo says. “I know that we are living in dark times right now and we need to understand that our ancestors and transcestors are the one who are going to walk us through these dark times… See you on the other side, my dear and beautiful sibling in the struggle, Troy Masters.”
“Troy was immensely committed to covering stories from the LGBTQ community. Following his move to Los Angeles from New York, he became dedicated to featuring news from the City of West Hollywood in the Los Angeles Blade and we worked with him for many years,” says Joshua Schare, director of Communications for the City of West Hollywood, who knew Troy for 30 years, starting in 1994 as a college intern at OUT Magazine.
“Like so many of us at the City of West Hollywood and in the region’s LGBTQ community, I will miss him and his day-to-day impact on our community.”
Troy Masters accepting a proclamation from the City of West Hollywood. (Photo by Richard Settle for the City of West Hollywood)
“Troy Masters was a visionary, mentor, and advocate; however, the title I most associated with him was friend,” says West Hollywood Mayor John Erickson. “Troy was always a sense of light and working to bring awareness to issues and causes larger than himself. He was an advocate for so many and for me personally, not having him in the world makes it a little less bright. Rest in Power, Troy. We will continue to cause good trouble on your behalf.”
Erickson adjourned the WeHo City Council meeting on Monday in his memory.
Masters launched the Los Angeles Blade with his partners from the Washington Blade, Lynne Brown, Kevin Naff, and Brian Pitts, in 2017.
Cover of the election issue of the Los Angeles Blade.
“Troy’s reputation in New York was well known and respected and we were so excited to start this new venture with him,” says Naff. “His passion and dedication to queer LA will be missed by so many. We will carry on the important work of the Los Angeles Blade — it’s part of his legacy and what he would want.”
AIDS Healthcare Foundation President Michael Weinstein, who collaborated with Troy on many projects, says he was “a champion of many things that are near and dear to our heart,” including “being in the forefront of alerting the community to the dangers of Mpox.”
“All of who he was creates a void that we all must try to fill,” Weinstein says. “His death by suicide reminds us that despite the many gains we have made, we’re not all right a lot of the time. The wounds that LGBT people have experienced throughout our lives are yet to be healed even as we face the political storm clouds ahead that will place even greater burdens on our psyches.”
May the memory and legacy of Troy Masters be a blessing.
Veteran LGBTQ journalist Karen Ocamb served as the news editor and reporter for the Los Angeles Blade.
Signature-gathering to officially change the name of Columbus Park to La Raza Park became something of a civic party. July 24, 2020.
Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
This Sunday afternoon, Aug. 25, marks the sixth annual La Raza Park Day – a celebration of Chicano culture and community that began with a conflict.
Back in 2019, a local news story focused on complaints about loud cars and “cruising” in Barnum, a historically Latino neighborhood. But cruising along Federal Boulevard is a longstanding part of local culture — and many neighbors weren’t pleased to see it attacked.
That’s when Ben Chavez, now La Raza Park Day’s lead organizer, stepped in.
He acknowledged folks who aren’t familiar with Latino culture often view cruising as a disturbance or an activity for “troublemakers” because they don’t understand its cultural significance.
So he worked with Councilwoman Amanda Sandoval, Councilwoman Jamie Torres, Councilwoman Serena Gonzales-Gutierrez and his wife, Senator Julie Gonzalez, to respond to this complaint with an act of community pride.
At the same time, Jolt of Guerilla Garden and Evan Weissman, the executive director of Warm Cookies of the Revolution, had similar ideas. Instead of dividing community with three separate events, they banded together to produce one collective affair.
Joe O’Connell and his ’48 Chevy Fleetline at his home in Brighton. July 6, 2023.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Chavez described the practice as “creating art on wheels” and noted many lowriders and classic cars used for cruising are award-winning and worth upwards of a hundred thousand dollars.
Here’s what’s planned for this year’s La Raza Park Day.
The event will be held from 1 to 5 p.m. this Sunday, Aug. 25, at La Raza Park, 1501 W. 38th Ave. Admission is free of charge.
For starters, it’s the first year the event has a theme: youth violence prevention.
Chavez said the La Raza Park Planning Committee will bring in nonprofits that specialize in violence interruption, respond to active shootings and get families mental health services, as well as organizations that provide support for individuals and families after violence occurs.
La Raza Park Day will also feature a four directions blessing ceremony and a Mexika Danza program, both of which are meant to educate and entertain.
From there, Chavez said, the rest of the programming is “good vibes.” That includes a youth breakdancing crew and youth mariachi, live graffiti art, DJs, music from Los Mocochetes and food – including a taco eating contest – from Chivis Tacos.
“La Raza Park Day is for everybody, not just Chicanos,” Chavez said. “It is a community event that is for family and friends and fun.”
But up until 2020, the park was only informally known as “La Raza”. Officially speaking, the park “was underneath the colonizer’s name – Columbus Park,” Chavez said. “We fought for decades to have that name changed.”
Today, the renamed park serves as a reminder of Chicano culture on Denver’s Northside. It features a prominent kiosko (aka a garden pavilion), shaped like ceremonial areas atop Aztec and Mayan stepped pyramids, and a sculpture that pays tribute to the city’s Chicano activists. These elements remind longtime Northsiders, and those new to the neighborhood, that Chicano culture has, does and will continue to exist in the area.
Artist Emanuel Martinez unveils his new sculpture, a tribute to La Raza Park and the city’s Chicano activists. Sunnyside, June 20, 2021.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
The neighborhood has “changed multiple times with the demographic of individuals that live there,” Chavez continued. “But one thing that we’re doing is we’re pushing back against gentrification, saying, ‘Not all of us have left. Not all of us are priced out. We’re still here — and our culture matters.’”
La Raza Park Day doesn’t have an official cruise. But…
That doesn’t mean no cruise.
What usually happens is, “after the day we’re like, ‘Hey, let’s go cruise.’ It’s not formal,” Chavez explained.
“Hopefully we all end up in the same place. We usually hit Federal Boulevard and end up at Grandpa’s Burger Haven, and some folks may split off and go somewhere else. But usually, Grandpa’s is pretty jumping down on South Federal. That’s a staple in community where lowriders come together and families have fun and eat cheeseburgers and onion rings and all hang out with each other.”
Josephine Clark (left) and Adira Castillo, organizers of the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery, stand in downtown’s Performing Arts Complex. May 8, 2024.
Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
An explosion of bright yellow, cherry pink and lime green paper flowers help frame a painting of Arlette Lucero’s loved ones, from her late husband Stevon Lucero to beloved tattoo artist Alicia Cardenas.
The adjacent memory photo wall, adorned with papel picado, is part of Lucero’s “Those That Have Passed in 2021” installation that began as a Dia De Los Muertos-inspired piece.
“These are people I knew very well. Some of them were extremely close friends,” Lucero said.
“Those That Have Passed in 2021” by Arlette Lucero on display in the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery at the Denver Performing Arts Complex downtown.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Lucero is part of a bill of Chicano artists invited by two CU Denver undergraduate students with specific interests in the importance of platonic love and friendship from a Chicano perspective.
Josephine Clark and Adira Castillo are each developing their undergraduate theses, one on depictions of friendship in Western Art and the other on Chicano artwork.
Together, the two have worked on this show since February with the guidance of gallery director Jeff Lambson.
Josephine Clark (left) and Adira Castillo, organizers of the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery, stand in downtown’s Performing Arts Complex. May 8, 2024.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
“[Lambson] presented this opportunity to us with his guidance,” Clark said. “To have this opportunity in a professional gallery setting … we’re in the heart of downtown … it’s huge.”
The Experience Gallery space, tucked underneath a set of stairs at the Denver Performing Arts Complex and across from the entrance to the Buell Theatre, helps give curatorial experience to CU Denver students.
“These artists spoke to me so much in their work and the way that they represented their livelihoods and community,” Castillo said. “I’m Chicano myself, so it’s really amazing to be able to highlight Chicano artists within Denver.”
Rob Coca plays with Cherish Marquez’s her interactive installation, “Connections To,” set up in the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery at the Denver Performing Arts Complex downtown. May 8, 2024.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Chicano artists were inspired by ancestors and community
Featured artists in the show include Lucero, Armando Geneyro, Oswaldo Cepeda, Cal Duran, Pico del Hierro-Villa and Cherish Marquez.
Corn roots hang from the ceiling and woven God’s eyes, or Ojo de Dios, have helped artists like Duran both explore and meditate on artists from the past.
“Art was a way for me to connect to my lineage and my ancestors,” Duran said. “I believe all of our ancestors are inside our blood helping us create.”
“Realm of the Woven Portal: Floating Roots and Memories” by Cal Duran, installed in the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery at the Denver Performing Arts Complex downtown. May 8, 2024.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Denver photographer Armando Geneyro debuted an image titled, “Sin Ti” or “Without You.”
“We knew he didn’t have a lot of time left and we wanted to get one last portrait session with the family,” Geneyro said.
The center hand is of Jose Angel Jimenez, also known as Tanque, which means tank in Spanish. Cradled by the hands of Tanque’s loved ones, the image honors the life of a man who lived 37 years with only one arm after losing the other to a cancer diagnosis in 1982.
Jon Romero (left) and Melissa Ivey perform in the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery at the Denver Performing Arts Complex downtown. May 8, 2024.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Invited by Clark and Castillo to be part of the show, Geneyro knew this image would fit a show dedicated to showcasing the heart of Chicano families, the treasures of platonic love and the elements of spirituality, depicted by the cross tattoo on Tanque’s middle finger, that “we lean on as Chicanos.”
“He did things that most of us probably can’t do with two arms,” Geneyro said. “But he needed that support from his family all those years to be that strong for them.”
Armando Geneyro’s “Sin Ti” and “Mi Vida” on display in the “No Puedo Imaginar Mi Vida Sin Ti” show at the CU Experience Gallery at the Denver Performing Arts Complex downtown. May 8, 2024.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Above the image’s black frame, Geneyro left a toy tank, a nickname that Jimenez carried since childhood and a testament to the “indestructibility” of a loved one.
“We live in such an individualized society right now,” Castillo said. “I hope that when they come in here they recognize that community and friendship is so important.”
The low rider section of Denver’s annual Cinco de Mayo celebration at Civic Center Park. May 6, 2023.
Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
It’s that time of year, when the tacos are on sale and the margaritas are flowing. But don’t forget that Cinco de Mayo goes beyond the Americanized stereotypes.
In a press release, Hecho en Westwood, a neighborhood group focused on community wealth building, said Cinco de Mayo is all about “resistance and pride,” but also that, “over the years this holiday has been hijacked and distorted by the commercialization and commodification of corporate America and Beer companies.”
May 5 commemorates the Batalla de Puebla, where an outnumbered and poorly equipped Mexican army was victorious over French troops sent by Napoleon III.
Around the same time in the late 1800s, a wave of Mexican miners began immigrating to the U.S., bringing the first Cinco de Mayo celebration to California in 1863.
View of the stage at Cinco de Mayo celebration in Denver, Colorado. Denver Public Library/Western History Collection/AUR-2468
Coverage of Cinco De Mayo on Santa Fe Drive organized by the West Side Coalition, seen in the West Side Recorder, May 1973.
While Cinco is not a large holiday in Mexico, it does have deep roots in Denver and other Mexican and Chicano communities around the U.S. And those roots go beyond stereotypes.
Their tradition continues this weekend at events across the Mile High City.
Pacho Vasquez readies Pepino for a race during Denver’s annual Cinco de Mayo celebration at Civic Center Park. May 6, 2023.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Here are Cinco De Mayo events around Denver:
Cinco De Mayo Jazz Jam
Location: Spangalang Brewery, 2736 Welton St.
Date: May 3, 6-10 p.m.
Jazz and Cinco combine for Jazz Jam at Spangalang. Mistura Fina & Frank Ayala will be putting on a “soul-stirring” event with “smooth melodies to funky beats.”
First Friday at Museo De Las Americas
Location: Museo De Las Americas, 861 Santa Fe Drive
Date: May 3, 5-9 p.m.
The Latin American Art Museum on Santa Fe is hosting a celebration featuring a performance from Ballet Folklórico de Mexico at 7 p.m.
Costumed kids on the Adelitas de Colorado float in Denver’s annual Cinco de Mayo parade around Civic Center Park. May 6, 2023.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
First Friday at CHAC Gallery
Location: CHAC Gallery, 7060 W. 16th Ave., Lakewood
The downtown festival is a two-day affair, but you can only catch the parade at 11 a.m. on Saturday at the City and County Building. There will be chihuahua races, taco-eating contests, lowrider car shows and live musical performances.
Cinco de Mayo en Westwood
Location: El Tianguis de Westwood, at the intersection of Morrison Road and Perry Street
Time: May 4 from Noon – 8 p.m. and May 5 from 11 a.m. – 5 p.m.
The 4th annual Cinco de Mayo en Westwood will bring Denverites a community art show, cultural dance performances, live music and lucha libre. Hosted by Hecho en Westwood, BuCuWest, In Lak’ech Denver Arts and other community partners, the two-day event will be hosted in a new location at El Tianguis de Westwood, a parking lot the community has activated lately to host events.
Artwork will be on display from Denver’s own Isaac Lucero and Felipe Dominguez. In Lak’ech Denver Arts teacher Aalycia Rodriguez will be manning the youth arts table, decorating lucha libre masks.
A Cinco De Mayo celebration shut down Morrison Road on May 1, 2021.Kevin J. Beaty/Denverite
Performances include Sangre de Mexico, who will appear on Saturday, and youth dancers from In Lak’ech Denver Arts, who will perform on Sunday. Expect live music from DJ Konz and MC Ben Chavez, as well as local artists Manny, Monica Tha Great, Bezo, and Riaga.
There will also be lowriders and food vendors including Pepe’s Tortas and Burgers and Bule Bule.
Domingo de Cinco
Location: RISE Campus, 3738 Morrison Road
Date: May 5, 11 a.m. – 4 p.m.
Nonprofit Re:Vison, along with Ana Marina Studios and La Reyna del Sur food truck, will be celebrating on Sunday with special drinks and food. Ana Marina will have a pop-up show. La Reyna and Xatrucho Concepts will be serving up treats.
