Post-Covid Spring Beauty

An Interview by J.C. Agid of the artist and her daughter, Hannah Seligson
J.C. Agid, Thirty Seven East, February 11, 2024

POST-COVID SPRING BEAUTY

The More You Look The More You See

A solo exhibition of new work by Judith Seligson on view at

Galerie Mourlot through June 26, 2022.

Galerie Mourlot

16 East 79th Street, Suite 21

Between 5th and Madison Avenue

New York City

When I entered Galerie Mourlot on E. 79th Street two days

ahead of Judith Seligson’s new solo exhibition, the more I

looked around, the more I saw boxes everywhere, each

containing either a painting, a pigment print, or a sculpture

Seligson, a geometric abstract artist, created during the

pandemic. On one wall, John—the installer—was carefully

calculating the distance between two frames: on top, a

series of photographs of flowers painted over—snapshots of

nature blooming and blossoming despite the pandemic,

aptly titled “Covid Spring”—and below a selection of bold

striped paintings, or intervals paintings, as Seligson

described them to me.

In the center of the room, the artist was busy unpacking and

deciding how she wanted the body of work to come together

at her second solo exhibition of Galerie Mourlot, a name

more associated with the print making for the likes of

Picasso and Miro, but which also has a strong contemporary

art program. Her daughter—journalist and author Hannah

Seligson—was dispensing advice. She became her mother’s

unofficial “art agent,” or manager, five years ago.

Hannah marveled at the exhibition slowly taking shape, the

new series of what she describes as “hard-edged,

geometric abstract paintings,” in which her mother, Judith,

explores “her interest in the interactions of colors, patterns,

and space that all push the boundaries of the pictorial plane

and create a sense of spatial tension.” “The Washington

Post once decided it was ‘reminiscent

of Stella and Albers,’” Hannah explained.

As I found my way to gallery owner Eric Mourlot’s desk by

the tall windows overlooking 79th street, to sit down and take

my recorder out of my bag, I marveled at the artistic poetry

of the pieces. “It is a musical composition, almost a rhythmic

movement,” the 72-year-old artist and author who studied

with Flora Natapoff, Philip Guston, Leo Manso, and Victor

Candell explained to me. Some of the paintings are small,

discreet, miniature even, “a feminist statement,” Hanna said,

quoting her mother.

I have always been told people are born artists, so I asked

Judith Seligson when she first realized she was an artist

and no one else. Before she could utter a word, Hannah

interjected: “Mom, tell the story of when you were drawing…”

Judith Seligson (c) JC Agid | 2022

So, here it starts, I said looking straight into the eyes of

the painter. This is the first question. And your

journalist-agent-daughter already wants to answer for

you.

Judith Seligson: She is my manager!

Hannah: no, no, no

See, your daughter is interrupting you again.

Judith: We have really developed a fantastic interaction. She

is a manager and an artist agent.

When did you feel you were an artist?

Judith: I was 25, and I was graduating from college. I had

started premed courses in San Diego, and I discovered that I

was much more interested in the drawings in the margins

than I was in the biology in the main section. So, I’ve been

working steadily as a studio artist since.

Judith Seligson (c) JC Agid | 2022

Hannah Seligson (c) JC Agid | 2022

How have you gone about studying your craft?

Judith: I went to Harvard Radcliffe and studied with my most

important painting teacher, the Canadian American Phillip

Guston. He looked at my work and said, ‘Well, what’s the

most interesting thing here you would like to paint,’ and it

turned out to be the door; and so, the next question was,

‘Why don’t you just paint the door?‘

What about your biology studies?

Judith: I did both. I use a lot of scientific references in my

book, Gaps and The Creation of Ideas.

Have you ever worked as a biologist?

Judith: No, I say I have a fake medical license!

It means that you, Hannah, were raised by an artist

instead of growing up with a scientist mother!

Hannah: I always said I would call a memoir, which I have no

intention fo writing, “My rebellion to be normal,” which is a

bit of statement about growing up with creative, free-spirited

parents. My mom was committed to what she was doing that

it was wonderful and inspiring, at least later on, but it also

meant that I was sharing my mom with another child: art.

Now the mother of two, I totally understand why only one

child gives someone their creative space.

How did your mom be an artist influence who you are?

Hannah: Just for the record, I would much prefer being the

one asking the questions. These are tough question!

Sorry, Hannah, not this time… Back to you as a writer.

Hannah: I think the idea of doing what you want to do, and I

know it sounds so cliche and privileged, but I think a lot

about something my mom has said: “You don’t choose to be

a painter; painting chooses you.” The same could be said

about being a writer. You certainly don’t do either for money

or for fame, but it’s something that you would have to do

even if you don’t always want to do it. It’s a real discipline

and a practice.

You practiced the art of miniature paintings.

Judith: A lot of paintings have been judged according to

scale. The abstract expressionists went very big, but quality

shouldn’t always be equated with size. I started working

small in 1978 and had works that are much smaller than

those exhibited today. Every painter must ask what the

painting is, where is the line between not painting and

painting, between design and artwork. I wanted to ask how

small a painting can be and still be a great painting. At that

time, smallness was almost disqualifying.

Walking on unknown paths! That makes you a feminist

Judith, doesn’t it? And feminism is a topic you wrote

about on many occasions, Hannah. Do you think that it is

harder for women artists?

Hannah: Absolutely. Just look at the numbers of women in

major institutions and museums. I think it’s something like

10%. So, with my mom, you have the double wearing of

ageism and sexism in the arts.

I try to paint melodies, whether they are stripes or

flowers. I want to keep the viewer interested and playful in

a dynamic symmetry.

Judith Seligsonnone

Was it part of the reason for your engagement to work

alongside our mother?

Hannah: I decided to get involved with my mom’s career

right after Donald Trump won the election. It was not a great

moment for women. I wanted to help my mom, who I saw as

coming up against sexism and ageism, succeed in her. This

was my very minimal way of taking some action, on a very

personal level, to further the empowerment of the woman

who is most important in my life: my mother. At her last

show, which opened in November 2016, we sold 50

paintings.

Has it been harder just because you are a woman?

Judith: In the sense of financial remuneration? Yes, I do

think so. When I started in New York and had my loft in

Tribeca—before anybody else did—on Leonard St, only 10%

of artists represented by galleries were women. It is easy to

discount more minor things and things that are female.

Artists and women artists want to sell and make a living.

People put money where they think there’s value, and if they

don’t think there’s value, they won’t.

Hannah: We need to give a shout out to Eric Mourlot

because he shows a lot of women artists in his gallery.

Eric Mourlot: I’m not doing it for political reasons. It just

turns out that I’ve been responding lately to more women

artists because I think that male artists are not really

exploring enough. It might be a vast generalization, but I’ve

found more lately that female artists’ vision is much broader.

Did you make a living from your art?

Judith: No. I made ends meet when I was an administrative

assistant at Yale just after I decided to become a painter.

Then I also became a graphic designer in 1983. When

Hannah decided to put her enormous talents in my direction,

she felt for me; she saw some of the indignities, the people

who stood me up.

Hannah: I remember the day one of the top art consultants

in the United States made an appointment and just didn’t

show up. No phone call—this person couldn’t even give that

courtesy. It says something very profound about how artists

who haven’t entirely “made it” are treated because that

certainly wasn’t an isolated incident.

Music is a fundamental language for every art, and I use it

in painting.

Judith Seligsonnone

Tell us about this show. There are two different kinds of

works. First, the flowers.

Judith: Photographs drawn over with pastel and pencil and

then photographed again and a few little magic tricks. I love

flowers and I get a lot of inspiration from looking at nature.

This series is called COVID Spring. I did them in the spring of

2020, which needs no further introduction; they were

photographed on my daily walk.

The stripes are more traditional. Your work on spatial

dimensions?

Judith: I would say intervals are really the central theme; it is

an essential word in my own vocabulary; intervals are a

visual musical. They become short notes; they compose a

melody, a visual melody, something coherent and beautiful

that you can’t define. I try to paint melodies, whether they

are stripes or flowers. I want to keep the viewer interested

and playful in a dynamic symmetry.

Do you listen to music while painting?

Judith: It is not synesthesia. I studied music theory when I

was young and played the piano for several years. My work

is a different kind of musical translation and has nothing to

do with sound—music is a universal language for everything;

it’s a fundamental language for every art, and I use it in

painting.

Speaking of what is essential, I think I should go. There

are still so many paintings to install on the walls.

Judith: I never fail to enjoy this exact moment when we hang

a show. It really brings the work into another dimension.

Eric: This is going to look amazing. This is a sort of a middle

process for the artist, post-studio and before the viewer

comes in and interprets the artwork; before he emotionally

or intellectually responds to it. This is an exciting part of the

process that people don’t ever see, which is when the work

is displayed in the studio, when the artist and the curator

work together to present the paintings to create a narrative.

And the narrative would be?

Hannah: Beauty. Simply, post-Covid Spring beauty.

About the Author: JC Agid

JC Agid is the founder of 37EAST, a brand strategy and

business development agency based in the United States.

He is also a trustee on the advisory boards of the American

Friends of the Paris Opera and of LeaderXXchange.