Day 7
I have a meeting with Julie Saul this morning. At her home. In fact, I was supposed to meet with her a week earlier in her gallery but she had forgotten to bring her favorite picture. So she invited me to see it in its natural surroundings. Brilliant idea. At a typically New York red brick building, a doorman with a blue jacket and cap takes me to her door and waits in the elevator for me to ring the doorbell.
After two whole minutes, he sticks out his head and asks, “Excuse me miss, do you need anything?” “No thank you, just two minutes to read over my notes before ringing the bell”. He raises an eyebrow, shrugs his shoulders and heads back down to the ground floor. The old gated elevator creaks closed, the pulley squeaks. I love New York. Our little discussion has attracted the attention of Julie’s dog – Vicki – who’s now barking and panting behind the door. Julie’s home is cute, sweet and adorable – as Americans would say. Overflowing with pictures, drawings, even empty frames. One wall has windows, the other three have pictures. They’re hung from floor to ceiling. It’s a veritable whirlwind. There are electric wires dangling, a tiny kitchen over in the corner behind a sliding door, and squeaky parquet floors. The place is inviting and bright – an authentic old New York apartment with trees right outside the windows.
When I asked what she has hanging on her bedroom walls, Julie brings me in – what a privilege – so I could see for myself… You are starting to get to know me, I only have eyes for Cameron. To wake up and immediately see an image of hers would work for me too!
Julie hesitates about her favorite print, but she sticks with her first choice: Actors by Paul Nadar. 1890. It is the ultimate allegory for an art seller…
I love her sense of humor.
Thank you, Julie.
From her first encounter with photography to the opening of her own gallery space…
Julie tells me how she discovered art before becoming interested specifically in photography. She began to study art in high school, and her first job was at the cultural center of Tampa, Florida, the city where she was born.
She left for New York in 1979 to study art history with a program in museum studies.
Her love of photography first took hold during a Bauhaus photography class taught by Kurt Varnedoe at New York University.
She wrote her thesis on Hungarian artist László Moholy-Nagy.
She began interning and working at museums including the MoMA and the Met before mounting two exhibitions, one on Moholy-Nagy for the Bronx Museum and the other at the Tampa Museum on the history of American photography.
When she turned thirty, in the mid-1980s, the art market in general and photography in particular was still not that developed. Everything was yet to be built. She decided to join forces with Nancy Lieberman, who worked in advertising and wanted to represent artists. They started working together out of a friend’s apartment, and then opened Lieberman & Saul in 1984.
Together they represented Andrew Bush, Sally Gall, Stephaen Frailey, Zeje Berman, and Penelope Umbrico. And they organized a number of thematic exhibitions (The Mirror and the Mask: Jean Cocteau, Constructuing Images: Synapse Between Photography and Sculpture) that got the art world’s attention. They also developed partnerships, especially with Daniel Wolf (gallerist at the time) and Marta Gili (director of the Jeu de Paume).
In 1992, Nancy left for Los Angeles, and Lieberman & Saul became Julie Saul Gallery.
Her best memory as a gallerist…
She tells me how, twenty years ago, when she wanted to put together an exhibition of Cocteau works, she dealt with a dealer in Hamburg who at first agreed to led her the works, but then pulled out of the contract with no explanation.
Harry Lunn told her something truly important then: if she really wanted the images, she was going to have to get on a plane and head to Hamburg. Which is exactly what she did—and she got the Cocteaus.
Her worst memory as a gallerist…
Julie says that she remembers a number of little disappointments, such as artists she couldn’t represent, art fairs that rejected her application to participate, or canceled sales. Perhaps a regret, too: not having taken enough risks. But in any case, she adds, risk isn’t her style.
And then she remembers an absurd and annoying episode. Edna Cardinale – Julie’s longtime assistant – had gone on maternity leave and hired a replacement. One day, the team was transporting prints between two fairs in New York. The girl broke her heel. She quit the next day and left the gallery wide open, the keys on the desk, with a note saying she didn’t want to waste her time with Julie.
The first photograph she bought for herself, or one that has special importance in her life…
Actors by Paul Nadar. 1890
On her bedroom wall…
Atget, Dritikol, Julia Margaret Cameron, Bill Jacobson, Sally Gall.
If she was a renowned photographer…
Cindy Sherman, who she considers to be the most important woman artist. Also because she works in a studio – Julie says she couldn’t imagine working outside.
If she had to choose another job…
She laughs and answers that if she had married a rich man, she would have been a middle school English teacher.
