The Erasure of Gianni Trieste

The Third Street railroad underpass will unclog a vital artery into Downtown, eliminating a bottleneck that has frustrated thousands of drivers for decades. When complete, traffic will flow seamlessly beneath the tracks near the 91 freeway, and most people will only remember that they used to have to wait for trains there.

What most won't remember is John Dingler used to live there.

For 25 years, Dingler has lived and worked in an arched-roof building tucked into a dusty lot beside those same tracks. His 1968 Chevy van sits out front, needing a little work before it could be considered roadworthy. The space doesn't look like much from the street, just another industrial remnant in a collection of hodgepodge storage units and work spaces. But inside is where Dingler becomes someone else entirely.

This is where John Dingler lives, but Gianni Trieste works.

Born in Trieste, Italy, Dingler moved to the United States as a teenager, eventually settling in Riverside after routing through the East Coast and a stint at the University of Maryland. The space he found a quarter-century ago suited him perfectly: an open warehouse with concrete arches that reminded him of the architectural heritage he'd left behind.

The impending displacement has nothing to do with neglect or violation. The city has followed eminent domain procedures and provided relocation assistance. The underpass project serves the greater good, eliminating a traffic choke point that affects thousands of commuters daily. There is no bad guy in this story, only the inevitable tension between individual attachment and civic necessity.

"I love it here, because I wouldn't want to move from this place," Dingler says. "I've got everything here. I've got Smart and Final across the street. I've got my gym three blocks down, Downtown. Mission Inn is five blocks away. I've got the Santa Ana River Trail, where I ride my bicycle."

The bicycle matters. Dingler is an avid cyclist, and those rides along the river trail have become part of his rhythm, as integral to his creative process as the work he does inside the studio.

After 25 years, that bicycle ride, that grocery store, that proximity to Downtown have become the infrastructure of a life. When he first moved in, Dingler thought $650 a month was expensive. The Pomona space he's found to replace this one will cost $3,500 monthly.

But the financial strain represents only the surface disruption. Inside his warehouse, Dingler has created something that defies easy categorization. As Gianni Trieste, he produces digital compositions that blend shocking color palettes with sparse geometric forms, political commentary with pure visual pleasure.

His work operates on multiple levels simultaneously. UFO Girl, a recurring character in his paintings, delivers pointed critiques of trade policy and postal privatization. Other pieces feature Hindu nagas - serpentine figures that wind through digital landscapes. When asked about their symbolic significance, Dingler deflates any mystical interpretation.

"They're purely there to add to the visual enchantment," he says. "They're aesthetically flexible."

It's an aesthetic motif, nothing more. The same practical approach applies to his entire output. Some pieces carry heavy political freight; others exist for simpler reasons.

"Some of it is actually just looks cool," he says. "That's good enough, right? Just a beautiful piece based on style, no political or social content."

For Dingler, both impulses have equal validity.

His compositions draw inspiration from Ron Davis, whose extreme perspectives and overlapping geometric planes inform Dingler's digital approach. But where Davis worked with many objects, Dingler prefers backgrounds populated with carefully chosen elements. He prints his pieces on glossy paper, then has them laminated with heavy-duty "restaurant menu" grade laminate.

The technical process matters to him. He used to print across the street until that shop closed. In Pomona, he'll need to find new resources, new rhythms. The 2,500-square-foot space he's found offers more room than his current setup, but it's 30 miles from the community of artists he's known for decades.

"I did not want one of these tilt up warehouse places," he says of his Pomona option. "No soul. This place here is rugged and it's industrial, and it goes back to an earlier history of the region."

The new space sits, ironically, against the same railroad tracks whose future underpass is displacing him now. Dingler has accepted his fate and is looking forward to the move. Pomona has an excellent art scene, he notes, and the change might bring new inspiration. "I'm glad you're getting to go to a place where you can work and still have a community," I told John. "I hope so," he responds. "I'm looking forward to the move."

But Dingler's displacement affects more than just his personal creative practice. Each month for years, he has hung exhibitions at the Riverside Community Arts Association Gallery and carefully repaired the gallery walls between shows. Greg Cuellar, RCAA's board president, describes Dingler as "an invaluable asset" whose "skill and dedication enhance the quality of our exhibitions and ensure the sustainability of the gallery's programming."

"Quite simply, we depend on him," Cuellar states. "The loss of his presence in Downtown Riverside caused by displacement from his long-standing studio, would not only impact John personally, but would also deeply affect RCAA Gallery's ability to continue presenting exhibitions at the level of excellence our community has come to expect."

What's being lost is more than a studio or even a home. It's a complete creative ecosystem that took 25 years to establish, and a crucial piece of infrastructure that keeps Riverside's downtown arts scene functioning. Dingler has built a life where John the resident and Gianni the artist could coexist in the same space, where political commentary could sit alongside pure visual play, where the practical needs of daily existence aligned with the requirements of sustained creative work - and where those skills extended into supporting the broader artistic community.

The underpass will eliminate a bottleneck that has frustrated commuters for decades. Traffic will flow efficiently beneath the tracks. The public good will be served. But tucked into that dusty lot, in an arched building that would have made perfect sense to his Italian ancestors, an artist created work that couldn't have been made anywhere else.

Most people driving past have never noticed the space. In a few months, when construction begins, there will be nothing left to notice. This story serves as the only record that will remain: Gianni Trieste was here, made art here, mattered here.

The building will be demolished. The traffic will flow. And somewhere in Pomona, 30 miles away and against different tracks, John Dingler will set up new equipment in a new space and continue the work of becoming Gianni Trieste all over again.

More information: Visit rcaaarts.org for more about John Dingler and his work. The Third Street underpass project is scheduled to begin construction early next year.