Art Is not Always Comfortable

As designers, we’re often allowed to track the evolution of a brand over time. We watch it shift, adapt, sometimes reinvent itself completely. I like to document those arcs—not just to reflect, but so others can learn from what worked, what changed, and what stayed true.

But today I want to share a different kind of story.

This isn’t about a brand I helped build in real time. It’s about one I came to understand years after its founder passed away. Her name was Candice B. Groot. I had known her name, perhaps seen her from a distance, but never had the chance to truly meet her. But through the work we were asked to do—researching, listening, and designing a story that had long lived outside the spotlight—I came to understand how deeply her legacy shapes the meaning of what I do.

Her background

Candice’s story begins with contrast. She grew up in a traditional, hard-working Dutch household where structure and restraint were non-negotiable. At the same time, her mother sparked a lifelong curiosity for art, museums, and creative exploration. That contrast perhaps shaped her lens—one that welcomed complexity and contradiction. It gave her a way of seeing that favored depth over surface and meaning over conformity.

She started out as a ceramic artist and then teacher and sculpture professor at Gustavus Adolphus College, eventually evolving into something much more layered. A collector. A patron. A quiet force who made space for other artists to take risks, to fail, and to be seen. Her journey moved from making art to building the conditions where art could thrive, not for profit or prestige, but because she believed in what it could do.

Her collection reflected that belief. It was anything but conventional. She gravitated toward narrative sculpture, architectural forms, and ceramic works that touched on humor, sexuality, suffering, and joy. She supported artists whose work didn’t fit inside typical boundaries. And she didn’t care if the subject matter made people uncomfortable. In fact, that was often the point. Candice wasn’t curating to please an audience. She was not there to sanitize art for comfort.

She was documenting emotion, energy, and the realities of being human. Her choices were deeply personal and unapologetically honest. In that honesty, she gave her collection its voice. And more importantly, she gave many artists their start.

What branding can mean when driven by passion

In 1988, she established the Virginia A. Groot Foundation, named in honor of her mother. It became the formal extension of what she had already been doing—supporting the work of sculptors and ceramicists through grants, not based on commercial viability but based on merit and vision. That foundation has gone on to shape hundreds of creative paths. It gave structure to her values and created a platform that continues to serve long after she’s gone.

When we were brought in to revisit her story and reimagine how it would be told today, we went deep. Not just into Smithsonian archives, but into conversations with those who knew her—family, friends, artists, and those whose careers were changed by a grant. That process didn’t just reveal her legacy. It reframed our own work. It reminded us what branding can mean when it’s not driven by commerce or clout, but by true passion.

Today, the foundation is led by her niece, Nina Latusek, who has kept that spirit intact. She supported her aunt’s vision from an early age and continues to honor it through the foundation’s ongoing work. The grants continue, the platform evolves, and the impact grows. For many artists, that early support acts as a parachute. It catches them at a moment when belief and resources are in short supply. It offers lift and direction when everything else feels uncertain.

And yet, there’s a sense that Candice knew exactly what she was building. She understood the long tail of support, the quiet power of investing in people before the world recognizes them. Her brand wasn’t loud, but it was lasting. Not engineered, but earned.

A decade has passed since Candice’s passing, yet the foundation continues her mission, and her influence is still felt in the creative work she made possible.

Powerful work can be invisible

As designers, as creators, we often focus on the visible and tenable things like the interface, or the headline, or campaign. But stories like this remind us that the most powerful work we do is sometimes invisible. It’s the system we build that supports someone else. It’s the platform that outlives the launch. It’s the choice to create something honest, even if it never trends.

Candice B. Groot’s legacy isn’t just in the art she collected. It’s in the lives she lifted. And for those of us designing experiences or building brands, her story is a reminder that real impact doesn’t always come from what we make. Sometimes it comes from what we make possible.