“Like Like” tells the story of Tank Studios’ 10-year history in Denver

When the history of 21st century Colorado art is written, Tank Studios is sure to appear in the first few pages. The artist-run space has served as the workplace for more than 30 of the Denver area’s most prolific, and progressive, visual artists, a collection of painters, sculptors, printers, photographers and whatever-makers who have largely defined the regional art scene of their time.

Tank is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year and the occasion is being marked by an exhibition titled “Like Like” in the Rotunda Gallery on the campus of the Rocky Mountain College of Art + Design. It’s a fitting site for this show because Tank stands as an example of how professional artists can work together to sustain their careers in a way that other creatives — including the scores of eager, next-gen artists studying at RMCAD — can actually follow.

It would be easy to talk about this show just on the merit of the artists involved because so many are familiar names on the local landscape. Indeed, they are people I have followed and written about with some frequency over the past decade. Among them: Derrick Velasquez, Laura Shill, Jaime Carrejo, Mario Zoots, Margaret Neumann, Amber Cobb, Ian Fisher and Joel Swanson.

But “Like Like” works best if you know just a little about the backstory of Tank so you get the connection between the artists, the work and, thinking in larger terms, the city of Denver.

Tank came along just as gentrification of the 2010s was beginning to push artists out of the downtown spaces they had occupied for years. RiNo, LoDo and areas farther north in the city emerged as hotbeds of high-end development, which left little room in those neighborhoods for the low-rent studios that catered to artists.

There was a lot of upheaval and a lot of whining — much of it legit, some of it sour grapes — but few good suggestions on how artists could fit into a fancier Denver. The nine artists that started Tank came up with heir own solution.

In the fall of 2012, they found a space in a distinctly non-hipster part of South Denver, at 1474 S. Acoma St., and worked with the owner to carve out a maze of 10 work areas. Soon after, they expanded their space to include 19 separate studios.

The artists operate Tank as an LLC, each serving two-year stints as business manager. Tank is not a nonprofit, but it doesn’t try to make money either; rents are set at a rate that brings in enough cash to keep the bills paid. Tank still has a landlord to negotiate with but, by and large, artists are in control of their own destiny, which is rare for a shared space.

Importantly, Tank was set up with an open plan design — there are no doors between the studios. That encouraged a high level of organic collaboration and shared criticism that these artists say made their work better. At the same time, it encouraged a loose group of lost souls to become very good friends. The artists are close — they “like like” each other as Gretchen Marie Schaefer, a Tank artist and curator of the current show, puts it.