It’s been a rough year for independent theaters in Denver. Landmark’s Esquire will close in July after almost a century in business. The Yates Theater, which has lain dormant for years in Berkeley, has yet to successfully find someone to lease it. And the Aztlan Theatre, which has been a Santa Fe Drive mainstay for decades, continues to face roadblock after roadblock.
“It looks like I’m being forced out,” said Timeo Correa, the Aztlan’s owner.
After city officials re-assessed property values across Denver in 2023, the estimated value of Correa’s property nearly doubled from $882,000 in 2021 to $1,654,000. Correa’s annual tax bill jumped from $22,000 to $37,000, with no increased income during that time. It became unmanageable for a venue already struggling to recover from the COVID-19 pandemic.
“I’m property-rich and cash-poor,” Correa joked. “They’re taking two-thirds of my income. [The city doesn’t] consider the income or the condition of the building. If someone’s making a million bucks, all right, he can afford it, but I’m not making that.”
Correa paid the first half of the property taxes in February; the remaining $18,000 is due this June. The theater owner signed an agreement with Property Tax Advisors Inc. to file a protest with the Denver City Assessor’s Office last summer but said that when he followed up months later, the assessor’s office said the tax advisors never actually filed the motion.
When contacted, Dari Bozorgpour, a principal tax advisor at Property Tax Advisors Inc., said he filed two appeals with the City Assessor’s Office and the County Board of Equalization on behalf of the Aztlan last spring. Bozorgpour did not file a third appeal with the state board of assessment appeals because, he said, the Aztlan didn’t have a strong enough case. The City of Denver Assessor’s Office confirmed that two appeals were filed on time on behalf of the Aztlan and denied.
“That property’s worth at least $1.6 million,” Bozorgpour said. “The land is more valuable than the building that’s on the property. [The city] basically said it should be redeveloped.”
The Aztlan has C-MS-5 zoning designation, which means it can be vertically developed up to five stories. To successfully appeal the city’s appraisal, the Aztlan would have to prove that the city’s estimate of the potential building value was higher than what similarly zoned properties had sold for. And for a five-story property on Santa Fe Drive, Bozorgpour said, that wasn’t going to happen.
But for Correa, who purchased the Aztlan in 1973, the value of the theater isn’t necessarily in what it could be, but what it’s been. The building and its owner have seen a lot. Rising tensions between neighborhood gangs, the advent of the VCR, the global COVID-19 pandemic and the rapid growth of the city each made their presence felt through the rows of aging theater seats.
He brought in actor Edward James Olmos, who starred in “Stand and Deliver,” to talk to a theater full of high school students about Denver’s gang issues back in the 70s. By the time VCR came around and gave theater-goers the option to watch movies from home, he had paid off the theater and pivoted to converting the space into a music venue that would host rising stars like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Metallica.
Since COVID, the Aztlan has held an assortment of screenings ranging from classics like “The Sound of Music” to political films like “The Wobblies.” The theater even showed the Super Bowl last year. But the city’s tax increases may finally bring the curtain down on the theater.
To protect the theater from potential redevelopment, Correa considered pursuing landmark status. That way, he could lower his taxes while preserving the Aztlan’s rich history as a center for Chicano culture. Ultimately, he decided that the landmark designation would be too restrictive on his ability to revamp the theater’s interior.
“It’s sort of a catch-22 because of some of the restrictions that they have,” said Correa. “You have to keep the exterior, but you might be able to make some changes inside but [the city] would have to clear it first.”
After a days-long rainstorm last summer, the theater ceiling needs water damage repairs. Correa also wants to extend the stage and redo the flooring. At one point, he wanted to turn the space into a “real fancy” nightclub.
Adding to the stress of repairs and taxes, the night of Feb. 29 four young men broke into the theater and vandalized the lobby, main stage and offices. The perpetrators emptied five fire extinguisher canisters, poured glue into the Aztlan’s film projectors and spray painted graffiti over the theater’s walls. They also stole several paintings.
“We oughtta be glad [the police] got them, because this was probably the 100th time they did this,” Timeo said, shaking his head.
Correa estimated the damage to be $7,000 to $8,000. After a tip-off from a neighbor, the Denver Police Department identified and arrested four suspects.
To Correa, the writing is—literally—on the wall. It’s time to sell the theater.
While he has several prospective buyers, including interest from the Latino Cultural Arts Center and Museo de las Americas, no one yet has been willing or able to pay the $4.8 million Correa is asking. With the June tax deadline steadily approaching, the Atzlan is looking for outside help.
“I’d hate to see it razed because it does have a history,” reflected Correa, who proposed “leaving it to other people—maybe other Chicanos, Hispanics—who want to keep it as an art place and do a lot of things with it, in terms of art culture.”
Today, the theater opens for musical acts every couple of weeks. Correa, his wife Aurora, and the odd guest bartender are the only employees. The bar opens most weekends, and the Correas sometimes host live music on First Fridays. Losing it will be a blow to the community.
“Everybody feels at home here because we don’t discriminate,” Correa said. “We love everybody.”