Barry Arthur Merten – Father, Husband, Artist, Legend
Barry Arthur Merten - artist, landlord, music lover, and devoted family man - left his earthly body on February 11, 2026 due to complications of cancer treatment. He is survived by his wife of 40 years, Jan; his kids, Hannah (and her husband Mike Schutte), Nicholas, and Julia Merten; sister-in-law Susan Merten, niece Angela (and her husband Anthony Jimenez), grandnephews Tristan and Lucas Jimenez; cousin Janelle Woodard, and many dear friends. Barry was preceded in death by his parents John and Dorothy Merten, brother Dennis Merten and stepmother Maxie Merten.
Barry spent his 71 years on earth creating. Barry’s creative spark landed him behind a drumset in the garage band of his youth in Aurora, in front of a canvas during his degree in Fine Arts, with a putty knife and chisel in hand restoring old mansions in Denver’s Capitol Hill, and never far from a sketchpad. His singular sense of taste and (inability to work for anybody else) brought him to start an award-winning graphic design business that he ran for 38 years. He was proud to brand the launch of the Denver Public Library's flagship Michael Graves-designed Main Branch, as well as the debut issues of 5280 Magazine, but his most favorite projects involved branding for restaurants and food packaging, where his lifelong playfulness could really shine. While expanding Merten Design Group, Barry bought and redeveloped a historic storefront property on Denver’s South Pearl Street. Barry was a small business champion to his core, and was proud to rent his Pearl Street space to several other small businesses in his later years. Over his 40+ years as a DU-area landlord, Barry cared for 8 apartments and hundreds of tenants - some of whom became his lifelong friends, and one of whom became his wife!
Throughout his life, Barry created countless works of art in many different styles, but with a few recurring themes: the grandeur of the mountain west, and the magic energy of clouds. He inherited a love for New Mexico from his father and uncle, and continued to visit Taos and Santa Fe to gather inspiration for his landscape paintings throughout his life - even once his mobility loss meant that he’d be visiting galleries with a cane, then a walker, and eventually a wheelchair. Barry was looking forward to rebuilding his strength between cancer treatments to make another trip to Taos, and had ordered two more large canvases ready to be filled with his signature clouds.
Barry always had a guitar within reach and a keen ear for music. He leaves behind a music collection that spans eras and genres and every medium from vinyl to Spotify. When asked to prepare an 18-hour playlist to be played during Barry’s water cremation, his family curated 20 hours of just his most favorite music. There was so much to love.
Most of all, Barry loved his family. While Barry suffered greatly in his later years from an unexplained loss of mobility and a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer late in 2025, his last year on earth was punctuated by three coast-to-coast family trips and lots of happy memories. Of the many beautiful things Barry created in his life, he was by far proudest of his three children: Hannah, Nick, and Julia. He is so deeply missed.
Barry had a lifelong green thumb and love for plants and nature. His family will hold a private memorial for Barry at the Denver Botanic Gardens in May. Flowers may be sent to the family via the Ruffly Rose - one of Barry’s small business neighbors on S. Pearl St. - that is collecting a flower fund for Barry’s memorial. Ruffly Rose: 720-596-4030
An option to honor Barry’s memory beyond flowers would be a donation to Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue. Barry was a lover of red tabbies; Lionel, his childhood cat, Johnson, who followed him home from 7/11, Leo, who rode home on his shoulder, and Sherbet, who was brought home as a surprise to Jan, and Venus, who he’d always say had the prettiest toes.
Stars are brighter in the desert sky, no need to question or wonder why.
The sun always shines above the clouds.
Clouds travel like spirits, saying hello and goodbye.
A poem found in one of Barry’s sketchbooks posthumously