Judith Corona

Every once in a while, I run across an area of design theory or philosophy that is so fundamental that I'm left to wonder how I've been able to do what I do for a living without a complete understanding of it.  Color theory is one such field of study. For a long time now, I've known that the factor that very often makes or breaks a project is not the price of the materials or the presence of bells and whistles, but rather how well the colors work, both with each other and in the context of the overall setting.   Even simple projects with modestly priced materials can be ranked among the beautiful if the colors work.  By the same token, there are extremely elaborate projects that fail to live up to their potential (or fail altogether) when color choices are off base. My sense that this was something I needed to know more about led me to

Every once in a while, I run across an area of design theory or philosophy that is so fundamental that I'm left to wonder how I've been able to do what I do for a living without a complete understanding of it.  Color theory is one such field of study. For a long time now, I've known that the factor that very often makes or breaks a project is not the price of the materials or the presence of bells and whistles, but rather how well the colors work, both with each other and in the context of the overall setting.   Even simple projects with modestly priced materials can be ranked among the beautiful if the colors work.  By the same token, there are extremely elaborate projects that fail to live up to their potential (or fail altogether) when color choices are off base. My sense that this was something I needed to know more about led me to