Death by Art: The Story Behind Luis Jiménez’ Iconic Blue Mustang

Creating art is not usually a very dangerous endeavor, but for Luis Jiménez, it unfortunately was. This is the story of a misunderstood piece of art and the untimely death of its creator.

Luis Jiménez was born in El Paso, Texas, in 1940. He grew up working in his father’s electric sign shop, which taught Jiménez to use neon lights, spray paint, and welding. His family was originally from Mexico, and his art focused on Hispanic themes. He was also influenced by the brightly painted fiberglass bodywork of low rider culture. Jiménez moved to New Mexico, where he sculpted outdoor art. He received both positive and negative reactions to it. Some critics said it was too garish and outlandish, while others praised him for championing Chicano culture and the working class.

The city of Denver commissioned Jiménez to create an outdoor sculpture for its new airport. The artist worked on it for almost a decade. He decided to create a 32 ft. (9.8 m) tall horse out of his signature polychromed fiberglass. The sculpture was to portray the wild spirit of the West. It was blue, standing on hind legs and with glowing neon red eyes—a tribute to his father’s electric sign shop.

Tragically, in 2006, a heavy portion of the statue fell on Jiménez and severed his artery. He died an untimely death, and the work of art was left unfinished. Eventually, his sons finished it for him, and Blue Mustang was installed at the Denver International Airport in 2008.

While the original plans allowed for people to park and admire the sculpture up close, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, influenced the way the public experienced it. Instead, the sculpture is quickly driven by without context or explanation. I was living in Denver when this sculpture was installed and found myself unnerved by the bucking blue horse with glowing red eyes. It quickly became renamed Blucifer, and most residents wanted it taken down.

Denver has a five-year waiting period before the city’s Commission on Cultural Affairs would even consider removing a piece of public art. This five-year period was effective because it still stands pawing and angrily snorting at cars quickly driving past. Over time, Blue Mustang became an endearing sight as I wearily passed it on my way home after a long flight. Knowing that the artist died while creating this piece of art makes it more poignant.