I first encountered Betty Parsons during my high school years, right as my interest in abstract art was beginning to take shape. To me, Parsons quickly became a towering figure—almost like a matriarch of modernism. In the same way my family revered my grandmother at holiday dinners, I saw Parsons as a foundational force in the world of postwar American art. She helped launch the careers of many of the artists I came to admire deeply—artists whose works I sought out in books and museums. In the 1940s alone, she championed the likes of Clyfford Still, Mark Rothko, Hans Hofmann, Ad Reinhardt, and Jackson Pollock. By the 1960s, her gallery featured other trailblazers such as Lee Krasner, Ellsworth Kelly, and Perle Fine. While not all of the artists she supported became household names, many did, and today it’s nearly impossible to walk through a major American art museum without encountering works that passed through her gallery. We have had the privilege of representing the estates of Calvert Coggeshall, Gerome Kamrowski, and Edward Zutrau who all had solo exhibitions at her gallery.
What I didn’t fully understand at the time, however, was the depth of her commitment—not just to the art but to the artists themselves, her staff, and her own creative journey. Betty Parsons was a dedicated abstract painter and sculptor in her own right, maintaining a steady studio practice at her Long Island retreat. “When I’m not at the gallery, my own art is my relaxation,” she once said. “That’s my greatest joy.” Her work was bold, playful, expressive, and deeply rooted in color. Throughout her six-decade career, she drew inspiration from the natural world, the cosmos, Native American traditions, and Asian spirituality. To me, what made her truly exceptional as a dealer during the formative years of Abstract Expressionism was that she didn’t just represent the art—she lived it.
Since the founding of our gallery, we’ve had the honor of handling several of her works, including wood constructions and works on paper. Every time I revisit them, I’m brought back to my younger self—poring over her biography, studying her exhibition history, and discovering new artists through her. Those discoveries led me down countless paths: to friendships, to exhibitions, and to moments of inspiration—all sparked by a woman who passed away long before I was even born.
The watercolor that inspired this month’s spotlight is one of two currently on view in our exhibition Herself: American Artists of the 20th Century. Both were postcards sent by Parsons to her close friend Jock Truman, a fellow art dealer and collector deeply embedded in the 20th-century New York art world. Truman worked at the Betty Parsons Gallery and later ran his own space, the Truman Gallery, from 1976 to 1979. In October of 1979, both the Truman and Kornblee galleries mounted exhibitions of Parsons’ work. While the Truman Gallery showed primarily wall-mounted constructions, Kornblee’s exhibition included free-standing sculptures, watercolors, and felt pen drawings from decades of Parsons’ travels—many shown for the first time.
Though this particular watercolor was not included in those exhibitions, it speaks volumes about the relationship between Betty Parsons and Jock Truman—one of friendship, creativity, and mutual respect. It’s a quiet yet powerful reminder of Parsons’ enduring presence and influence—not just as a dealer or artist, but as a connector of lives and legacies.
