I have always built things. (I thought everyone did.) For many years, my focus was utility - strength and durability were paramount. That was until I created the first version of Undulations, a privacy screen made from a scrapped metal conveyor belt. My relationship with materials, their visual and visceral impact, shifted from purely practical to aesthetic – although I’ve never forgone functionality.
In the creative process I am curious about manipulating line, mass and form. I am aware of how light shines and reflects on material, how shadows are cast, how a piece sounds and feels when touched, and how people will interact with wonder and delight. I like the idea of contrasting large or massive forms with unusual and delicate materials such as stone with fabricated copper in the shape of leaves and vines. These surprising juxtapositions of dissimilar materials create a sense of surprise and wonder, allowing people to see things in new ways.
Whimsy and wonder are keynotes of my work. I enjoy seeing people react joyfully to a piece that made me smile as I worked on it, as well as having them ponder over the mechanics, wondering where the water comes from, or what holds a visually delicate element in place despite its weight and heft.
While some of my work has specific thematic origins, I prefer it when people see their own stories and exercise their own imaginations as they take in my work, and I am pleased when I hear a reaction that may never have occurred to me.
Born in Stratford, Connecticut, in 1960, Kevin Caron didn't stay there long. His family moved to Florida when he was still a boy, and then before too much longer, to Arizona, where he lives today.
People often ask him what brought him to this Southwestern paradise. "My parents said, 'Get in the car,'" he replies.
During his service in the U.S. Navy, Kevin maintained aircraft support equipment in Misawa, Japan, on Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean, and Yuma, Arizona. When the Navy insisted he serve on an actual ship, this desert rat decided to instead return to Buckeye, Arizona, where he ran a foreign car repair shop for a dozen years.
His interest in fixing vehicles next led to driving them. Kevin drove a tractor trailer for 13 years. He also traveled the world, enjoying the cultures and people he met along the way. During that time, he began turning his eye toward sculpture. He worked part time at his art for a handful of years before becoming a full-time artist in 2006.
Today he lives with his wife Mary, their dog and cat in Phoenix in the shadow of Camelback Mountain.
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