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February 26, 1999/10 Adar 5759, Vol. 51, No. 22
Local artist combines love and life in featured art
TAMI BICKLEY
Staff Writer
When Candice Eisenfeld was a child, her artistic mother would hand her paper and a pen to keep her busy and out of trouble.
As Eisenfeld matured, so did her drawings. Her hobby developed into a passion that she initially denied, like a woman who falls in love for the first time and then out of fear of the unknown, withdraws. But the 26-year-old finally gave into her desire to create art, turning it into a career that, she says, will likely continue throughout her life.
Eisenfeld is a product of art. Growing up near Dallas, Texas, her home was like a gallery, where her mother, Julie - who is also an artist - proudly displayed her own artwork. Eisenfeld recalls watching her mother as she painted in her studio, impressed and intrigued by the world of art.
After years of exposure to paintings and drawings, Eisenfeld entered the University of Texas in Austin with a defiance of the arts, she says. Intending to "get away from art," she tested out other majors to see where else she could find the love she felt for art. But it didn't happen. Ultimately, she returned to what she did best, studying printmaking and figure drawing, and earning a bachelor's degree in fine arts.
In 1993, she moved to Jerusalem to attend Bezalel Academy of Art and Hebrew University.
"I went to Jerusalem to broaden my horizons because I am Jewish and I want to feel involved in the Jewish community," she explains.
Two years later, in 1995, Eisenfeld discovered Arizona's warm weather and its openness to new art, and she moved to Phoenix to produce and sell her creations. Currently, Eisenfeld's paintings are exhibited at Expressions in Santa Fe, N.M., and in four valley galleries: Artisimo in Scottsdale; Mars Artspace in Phoenix; Alchemy Arts in Chandler; and Jeanine Meijers Gallery in Scottsdale. An artist reception at the Meijers gallery will feature Eisenfeld's works on Thursday, March 4, from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. at 4151 N. Marshall Way, No.7, where art lovers may familiarize themselves with Eisenfeld's style, which has evolved over the short span of her career.
On a recent trip to Eisenfeld's home, the evolutionary process was evident; paintings filled with long-haired women and men, intertwined, experiencing a moment of fun are now considered by the artist as "my old collection." The new collection, mostly acrylics or mixed media, is often faceless, aside from an occasional human figure strategically placed in the mix. Diverse in powerful color, her paintings add a twist to usually simple landscapes.
"Figure painting was too revealing of myself. I wanted to hide, and not feel so vulnerable on the canvas," she says while pointing to her kitchen wall, where directly over the table hangs a detailed painting of herself and another female. "That's me and my alter ego," she says. "She may whisper to me, 'Don't go there, it's dangerous.' I painted that at a time when I was hanging out with the wrong people and I had to get away. But that's so revealing, and I don't do that anymore."
Instead of exposing her feelings on canvas, she continues to paint her personal stories, hoping people will identify their own stories with her paintings, she says.
The house in which Eisenfeld lives with several roommates is saturated in her art, with no wall left bare. She has even faux-finished some walls and replaced carpeting with hand-painted designs.
Her bedroom doubles as a studio, with paint chips covering the floor, and an easel holding an unfinished piece called "Sky" propped up at the foot of her bed.
"It's so convenient, because sometimes I'll be sitting on my bed, (analyzing) a painting I'm working on late at night, and all of a sudden, I lie down and fall asleep," she says.
Each painting's title reveals its story, she notes.
"A lot of what I paint has to do with love, a guy maybe," she says. For instance, "Quiet Hearts 1998" may look like a large glowing light over a sea of red and violet flowers, but to Eisenfeld, the meaning stems from sentimentality. "I liked a guy and he didn't know, so instead of telling him, I painted "Quiet Hearts."
Aside from the emotional strings attached to her paintings, there also are monetary strings attached. Eisenfeld pays for her own professional art supplies, which carry hefty price tags, she says. Galleries, responsible for much of artists' clientele, charge pricey rent. When a gallery sells her work - often for several thousand dollars - the profit is split between Eisenfeld and the gallery.
Other means of profit for the artist come from private jobs in homes or businesses, such as faux finishing walls, trompe l'oeil or painting murals. The city of Tempe recently hired Eisenfeld as part of its Artist-in-Residence program, to visit and teach art to chosen fifth-grade students in Tempe.
"I really enjoy this because it's the only time I ever really get to (interact) with kids," she explains. "I want to teach them to feel power, control, and to express themselves through art. ... Art can be as much of an escape from reality as a depiction of it. If I'm ever in a bad mood, I can always cheer up by creating art."
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