If you’ve ever wandered into a contemporary art gallery in Boulder or Denver and paused in front of something intriguing — maybe a stark geometric painting, a befuddling video installation, or a still life that just feels off — there’s a good chance Mark Addison had something to do with it.

Addison, who died on Jan. 6, was one of the Boulder art world’s biggest supporters — even if he never made a show of it.

“Mark was an unassuming giant in the world of Boulder art,” said Jim Johnson, artist and former CU professor who worked with Addison in the seventies. “That’s really the best way to describe him. He was modest, generous, and incredibly dedicated to supporting the arts. I think that’s how he would want to be remembered — not for any titles or accolades, but for the impact he quietly had on so many artists and institutions.”

Addison was a collector, patron, teacher, and advocate for contemporary art whose fingerprints are all over Boulder’s most exciting corners of the art world. Over decades, he amassed a collection full of cutting-edge and new media work. Through generous donations made with his wife, Polly, he helped shape the contemporary collections at CU’s Boulder campus, Colorado State University, and the Denver Art Museum.

“Mark was super intelligent and full of stories,” said David Dadone, executive director of BMoCA. “He was really committed to supporting the Boulder and Denver contemporary art scene. He was always excited to talk about new artists and how he acquired certain pieces. His collection was sophisticated, and he loved trading ideas about the artists and projects he was following.”

Unlike many collectors chasing prestige or resale value, Addison wasn’t in it for the flex. He gravitated toward emerging media — video art, conceptual work, anything that raised eyebrows — and championed artists whose ideas were more radical than marketable.

“He was light-years ahead of the curve when it came to collecting new media and tech-driven art,” Dadone said. “His collection was cutting-edge, and he was always hungry to swap thoughts on the latest artists or experimental projects he was tracking.”

Addison didn’t just hoard art for his own private delight, though. He made sure people could actually see it. His donations to CU, CSU, and the Denver Art Museum gave curators room to take risks — to get a little weird, in the best way — and to showcase bolder, more adventurous work. To the CU Art Museum alone, he and his wife, Polly, donated a total of 858 pieces of contemporary art.

He also helped shape Boulder’s cultural identity from the ground up. Addison was instrumental in steering the Boulder Art Association toward what eventually became BMoCA, pushing for a vision that was less safe, more expansive, and a lot more fun. He threw his weight behind several arts boards — SCFD, the Boulder Arts Commission, the CU Art Museum Board — and was a longtime champion of the Dairy Arts Center.

He didn’t stop at institutions, either. In the early 2010s, Addison launched the Bump in the Road Fund, a microgrant program offering artists $500 to $1,000 to cover project costs or unexpected financial hiccups.

Johnson once found one of Addison’s business cards for the fund, which explained it in his typical no-nonsense tone:

“The Bump in the Road Fund may help with a sudden, unplanned expense. Send me an email about the problem. I’ll ask a few questions, and if it fits, I’ll send a check. My goal is to help you get past that bump in the road — for up to $1,000.”

“That really gave me a lump in my throat,” Johnson said. “He was incredibly generous and deeply committed to helping artists — not just in a broad sense, but in a very personal and direct way.”

Addison also taught contemporary art history at CU for a whopping $1 a year, bringing pieces from his own collection to class so students could study them up close. According to Johnson, it was his way of staying in the art world after stepping back from business — minus the paycheck, but full of purpose.

“He was truly passionate about art — especially contemporary art — and wanted to share that passion with others,” Johnson said. “The world is better for it.”