Jennifer Candon

Color can calm or excite. But, sometimes color is too much… like music that is too energetic or a dessert that is too sweet… sometimes I need a break from bright hues and sharp contrasts.

I try and make something more understated… lower volume… give more priority to the neutral quiet…

But I miss the soprano note, and despite my original intention, I find myself including the vibrancy… it feels more complete, but the subtlety is gone.

Works in progress, sized approximately 18” x 18”

Preconceived ideas of composition often get in the way. I am learning to have faith in myself as an artist and realizing the importance of letting an artwork evolve and become its own thing during the making process.

I began work on this piece with a completely different composition and color scheme in mind. As it grew, technical and design realities made me realize that my original conception was not the best path forward. I gave up control and followed a new direction - one that was unclear but was an improvisational collaboration between the materials and maker.

In my experience, the creative process is an evolution that requires playing, experimenting and reconception. By letting go, the piece is strengthened.

Quilted textile mural, sewn with my hand-dyed linen, upholstery fabric and quilting cotton. Sized approximately 99” x 100”.

Like many children, I was entertained by images found in moving clouds… shape-shifting wisps provided endless, imaginary opportunity with whales becoming trees, and rabbits turning into cars as the wind shifted.

This project evolved in the same way - broad curves and blocks of color were shuffled until abstract pictures appeared.

I did not intend this to be an anthropomorphic piece, but as it grew, triangles became torsos and arches became limbs. Depending on my mind’s eye, I see two, three or four figures.

There is no right answer, but just different line guides. Your eye and mine will find their own different stories, and maybe we will even see new ones with each subsequent viewing as our perspectives change. I feel gratitude for this - an evolving, creative dialogue between maker and audience; artist and self-critic.

This sewn mural was pieced with my own hand-dyed linen, vintage shibori remnants, upholstery scraps, denim, and quilting cotton. Sized 93” x 78”.

An artist and viewer enter a dialogue through the creative process. The artist’s intent and the viewer’s interpretation are not necessarily the same.

Color, line and shape guide the conversation. But, communication and understanding are filtered through lens of culture, gender, history and personal experience.

You and I may not see the same thing. Perspective shifts when maker and audience take time to learn the viewpoint of the other.

Work in progress, sized approximately 60” x 60”

Color is the most important part of my work - the shades, their interplay, their subtlety, clash, and coordination. I think about palettes all of the time - while driving, washing dishes, walking outside - all of the time. It’s my form of daydreaming. I am never bored because I go inward to my color world where I am entertained by the exchange between shade and hue.

Improvisational piecing is unpredictable and imperfect. Sewn blocks made from fabric remnants can only be made once. Each holds the history of past projects and the fingerprints of the maker’s hand.

There is no pattern, no repeated production. Even the maker cannot replicate this work. Design comes from the artist’s authentic, unforced creative flow.

Work in progress, measures approximately 60” x 60”

The making process is often slow and sometimes confusing… steps forward and backward… piecemeal progress that must be recognized and celebrated.

Creating isn’t a race, and there are no winners, but just a gradual coming together… something new that has been realized out of discarded or disjointed parts.

This is a story of winter - of its tumultuous wind and it’s blanketed calm, restriction and vastness, restlessness and patient waiting.

It’s a story of a blue sky and contrasting snow. It tells of insulation and isolation, but also incubation and germination hidden within - ideas and new growth to come.

It’s a hopeful story.

Work in progress, sized approximately 48” x 78”.

Colors have conversations with one another. They exist in relationships.

Colors have personalities that are enhanced or diminished, depending on their combination. Everything is relative. One whispers if another shouts.

Colors are in constant contrast. A hue is only as bright as its counterpart is dull; only as red as its partner is green; only as vibrant as the other is muted. A dualism must exist if a conversation is to occur.

Works in progress, sized approximately 18” x 18”

Sometimes I experiment with color palettes for weeks before I know how to start – a story that has characters but not yet a plot. A color feeling evolves slowly and needs time to come to be. I have learned not to rush color decisions because I am usually disappointed if I force a decision.

Playing on the floor and moving blocks around… letting the shapes find their balance and story… a new take on a traditional star.

I am thinking of the triad of curiosity, experimentation and invention, and it’s intersection with art-making.

Maybe we need to be doing a better job at encouraging “play” for all ages… maybe play would help us feel less stress and actually be more effective and creative in our work and life - artistic and not…

Work in progress, sized approximately 96” x 60”

Playing around with the idea of visual weight and wondering how we “know” what feels like the right way up…

Thinking about how color can both calm and excite at the same time… how chaotic energy can still be relaxing through predictable pattern… always working to learn that balance…

Work in progress, sized approximately 55” x 55”.

Black and white blocks draw the eye, but, for me, color is the emotional actor - unsettlingly sharp hues juxtaposed and demanding focus.

This is an experiment to see which holds the viewer’s focus: the high contrast of black and white, or the tension of hue and tone…

Or perhaps, attention is divided and bounces between the two visual conflicts.

Works in progress, sizes ranging between approximately 48” x 48” to 72” x 72”

People have a lot of opinions about “why“ art is important… why makers feel the need to make… big questions with many right answers…

For me, it’s about making my own magic… finding connection amongst the discarded… seeing beauty in the overlooked… creating a visual calm that is both energizing and meditative…

But maybe there doesn’t need to be a reason… maybe it’s just about doing something that makes you happy and gives you peace… maybe the simplest answer is the best.

Work in progress, sized approximately 8’ x 9’.

I am finally realizing that my work is stronger if I recognize and value the coincidences, the random, the unexpected… highlighting those things sometimes feels unnatural because I have a tendency to prefer the predictable, the corrected, the ordered.

Preserving the irregularities and movement of my hand… spotlighting, rather than erasing steps that make up my creative process… prioritizing happenstance.

Work in progress, sized approximately 6’ x 11’.

Color placement informs composition and guides the viewer across the image as she makes sense of the artist’s intention.

How does the eye read a circle? Where does the viewer start? From left to right? From the center out? From the most saturated color? From the area of highest contrast? Does contrast or color intensity lead the interpretation?

Work in progress, sized approximately 40” round

My garden is full of wild flowers… unruly and somewhat haphazard, I am surprised every year at where patches take root and how color blocks change through the growing season - blue forget-me-nots, purple dame’s rocket, white daisies, golden black-eyed Susan’s, pink cone flowers and then finally the splash of zinnia rainbow…

Colors overlap and mute as the cycle continues… Spent flowers are collected, seeds dried and saved, and then scattered again for the next year’s show. Balanced randomness creating beauty…

Collection of works in progress, measuring approximately 5’ x 7’.

Sometimes it feels like too much to work on a big project… it becomes stifling, and I shut down… then I remind myself that my creativity will be its most free when it’s rooted in play… I return to something small… a sketch that may or may not become something big. I focus on process and not outcome…

Experiments are important. Stepping outside one’s comfort zone is important. Trying something different is important. Making something you don’t like is important, so you better know what you do like. My experiments help me grow…

Details of a work in progress, each sized approximately 17” x 17”.

Imagine a collaborative dialogue between a sculptor and a painter; a printmaker and a ceramicist; a woodworker and a textile artist; a metalworker and a photographer… what could be shared and learned about process? Composition? Inspiration? Technique? Viewer engagement? How would the practice of each be influenced and evolve? How would end results morph? How could that conversation between makers be encouraged?

Detail of graphically altered sewn pieces.

Hand-cut triangles have a character like no other shape. Anthropomorphic properties develop from abstract forms - short and squat, tall and severe, off-kilter and awkward. Each one says something different.

The contrast of black and white accentuates this personality. Black and white are equal opponents, but no other color is on similar footing. I use them in partnership, so their contrast becomes focal. Instantly graphic, they are powerful and dominate moderate values.

Works in progress, sized in a range, with the largest measuring approximately 2’ x 6’.

As an artist, I am not perfect; I am not a machine. I cannot replicate exact symmetry. I rely on intuitive mark making and hand cut technique to create my art.

The human hand and its imperfections are the starting point for my work. Imbalance creates curiosity and engagement. This roughness acknowledges that I am a person.

Work in progress, sized approximately 60” x 60”.

I use color to elicit a visceral response from the viewer - emotions of peace, confusion or tension. Color can create respite for the eye through uninterrupted spaces and lower contrast combinations.

Sewn quilt back, sized approximately 7’ x 7’.

A line that has been drawn, cut or stitched by the human hand holds a history. The line represents a moment in time when a person sat, and with intention and purpose, created something.

And years later, when you look at the artwork, the irregularity of the human fingerprint is still there. The history of that moment is what humanizes art for me.

Detail of a work in progress, sized approximately 30” x 30”.

So much of art making is technical and behind the scenes… the mess, the thinking, the confusion and the figuring things out… never a straight line and always a salad mix of strategies…

The start of a color poem whose verse and stanza reflect memory and feeling, whose texture makes tangible something that is remembered.

Experimenting with lines and blocks of color… trying to see intersections in different ways… wondering how to blend shapes and to reinterpret what I see… the interplay of the pieces that make up the whole…

Simple lines repeating become shapes… simple shapes repeating create pattern… simple patterns repeating articulate my imperfect hand… a fence stretched taught.

Work in progress, sized approximately 7’ x 8’.

I am reminded that so much of what we see depends on context…

I like to work with what is in front of me… deconstructed shapes become something new… limits provide guides not barriers for creativity… stitch marks and fade lines become ghosts and reminders…

Quilt sewn with denim and quilting cotton, sized approximately 44” x 49”.

I don’t draw my ideas or sketch my project plans. I have tried, but it has never really worked. How do you draw what you can’t imagine or anticipate?

How do you draw an interaction - a response to color rather than a foreseen composition? Maybe I lack traditional discipline, but I prefer to recognize and highlight the unexpected.

I create more easily when I have a pile of scraps in front of me. I get overwhelmed by the “blank slate” of new, uncut fabric. Often, I cut up yardage into strips of random shapes and sit with them, thinking how they fit together to tell a story. I create a stone soup of leftovers.

To pare down and simplify is the hardest part for me - finding the essential lines and colors without overcomplicating things. Some days I accomplish this and other days not.

Quilted textile mural sewn with hand-dyed linen, upholstery remnants, denim, vintage textiles, and quilting solids.

Sized approximately 93” x 80”.

“Big brushes are your friends,” my high school painting teacher used to say, encouraging me to try something different.

But I wouldn’t and couldn’t. I resisted big brushes. I painted big canvases, but always with small brushes. I wouldn’t trust the personalized gesture of my sweeping stroke… unwilling to own the expression that came with big brushes…

Improvisational textile work has helped me embrace bold, gestural movement. But, I realize I still rely on the repetition of detail work as a base from which to build.

There is a safety and intimacy in detail… a place for the viewer and maker to pivot if the movement and expression of the larger whole is too much…

Work in progress m sized approximately 7’ x 11’.

Visual balance is established through intensity and neutrality; pattern and quiet. Quadrants create order and a guide for the viewer to interpret their visual path.

Work in progress, sized approximately 44” x 44”.

Making art is about composition, but it’s also about capturing a unique perspective… an artist chooses to share some things, and she edits others out… she highlights, and she diminishes. An artist defines a reality and tells a story… a visual tale that is not static, but one that grows as her perspective evolves…

Work in progress, sized approximately 8’ x 11’.

Texture is as important as color in my palette. The weft and weave of looser textiles as well as upholstered fabrics bring motion to simple composition. Denim has a faded gradation which gives depth to flat shapes. Shadow and seam lines in handmade fabrics allow me to find new patterns and use what is already there.

Texture reminds me that art is made by hands… the shadows and imperfections show that it had a life before… the stitches and cut lines let me know it has found a new life now…

Do you ever look back at something you’ve made years ago and ask yourself, “Where is the person who created this? Is she gone? Is her spark still mine now? Can she come back? How did she know to do this? What happens if this cannot be repeated?” It’s a reflection of a past self, a close friend but someone changed.

Transition and growth represent a dualism - becoming anew requires moving away from the old. Nostalgia and loss. Uncertainty and questioning. Acceptance of impermanence and letting go. And, hope and faith that there is a today and tomorrow with more to come.

Details of a completed sewn work, sized approximately 7’ x 10’.

If each seemingly small step along the way is what makes the whole complete, then creation cannot happen without a journey - a culmination of the inspirational, as well as the mundane. Magic comes from valuing each step in the process.

I am my happiest self and most lost in time when creating something. There is a shift in consciousness that both stimulates and calms at the same time.

Even when I am having trouble actualizing an idea, I am still engaged and welcome the frustration and hurdle because it means I am on the cusp of generating something not yet conceived.

Work in progress, sized approximately 8’ x 8’.

Even a simple, hand cut piece in black and white carries the movement of the maker’s imperfect hand…

Asymmetric rhythm creates dissonance, encouraging the viewer to engage and find a pattern that does not exist.

When my kids were young, we played with wooden blocks endlessly - making forts, spaceships, towns, mandalas, figures… I think I had as much fun imagining as they did… and now, as I piece together my scrap fabric curves, there is the same freedom to play and create abstract reference to castles and hills, or villages and machines…

Work in progress, sized approximately 7’ x 8’.

Abstraction gives the maker and viewer permission to interpret shapes and lose themselves in dreamt up stories. Abstraction enables a conversation about intention and meaning.

This engagement requires a vulnerability on the parts of both artist and audience because the interpretation by each might not be the same. Meaning making will vary across contexts. Each must maintain an open mind.

Sewn work made with linen, denim, and cotton, sized approximately 8’ x 8’.

Orphan blocks are the start of a story that has not yet been clarified nor fully developed. Sometimes they don’t make it past the cutting table… even if they are favorites, they still don’t fit within a larger piece. They remain in piles as companions and wait until their future potential is more clear…

Works in progress, sized approximately 17” x 17”.

I think we each have an intrinsic, emotional interpretation of color - a unique response and color vocabulary.

Most people don’t remember when they start to speak or to understand words as infants. For most, language comprehension and the subtleties of speech (syntax, accent, tone) are assimilated in the same way - learned through constant exposure.

I wonder if our color understanding is also a language of sorts. How much of it is absorbed subconsciously? What role does the color-scape of our natural environment play in our understanding of color? Do color memories establish an emotional base for art interpretation?

Does someone living in the desert understand warm tones differently than another person who is always surrounded by snow?

Does one become more or less sensitive to certain colors and shades?

Work in progress, sized appropriately 7’ x 7’.

I keep a very large pile of remnants on my table at all times as a way to stay stimulated by the “what if” possibilities. I find real joy in transforming the recycled bits into something cohesive… something more because I took the time to see them through a creative lens.

I see this work in progress as a meditation… a set of simple, melodic shapes and patterns… I don’t remember my thoughts as I worked on these blocks, but as I look at it now, the repetition seems to be “making as an act of processing”…

Maybe these simple artworks are more complex than they seem… maybe it doesn’t always need to be technically difficult… maybe the experience of the artistic journey is embedded within… maybe there is an authenticity to my repeated triangles that I didn’t appreciate before…

Huge scale cannot be conveyed through small pictures… life sized art pieces reduced to three inch images. So much is lost - the enveloping color and the sweep of a line, that moment when art “makes you breathe with a different kind of happiness,” as Anni Albers reflected.

While online viewing has helped to democratize the art world by making access more widely available, I suppose one must see art in person to truly experience its magnitude.

Works in progress, sized 9’ x 8’

I have been watching the color of the snow this week… watching how its tone changes depending on the height of the sun or the presence of the clouds. Grey, pink, and ivory are all there. And the blue of the sky… hues across the spectrum shifting, too. Winter sun is high contrast. Bright, sharp light marks barren trees and spotlights the clinging oak leaves that will fall only when pushed by spring buds.

Winter color study sewn with denim, African indigo cotton, Japanese shibori, my own hand-dyed linen and indigo cotton, upholstery remnants. and upcycled shirts.

Work in progress, sized approximately 18” x 18”.