Catherine Spilman
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Cat Spilman is an American-born painter based in London. She studied at the School of Visual Arts in New York and worked for several years as a scenic artist in film and television before returning to painting. Her work has followed different stages of her life, including pregnancy, motherhood, and building a new home in England. A small dot appears in many of the paintings and has gradually become a sign of home, identity, and belonging.
In our interview, Spilman talks about returning to painting during a difficult period in her life, the role the studio has played for her, and how experiences like pregnancy and motherhood enter the work.
Q: How did painting begin to function as a way for you to process your own life?
A: I grew up painting and even studied oil painting at Maryland Institute College of Art’s pre-college course. But because my mother is a painter, I didn’t want to feel like I was following in her footsteps (and not living up to her talent), so I studied film at university. I worked in the film industry in New York and didn’t paint anything of my own for a long time, and it wasn’t until the world came crashing down that I ran back to it as a means of escape and catharsis.
When I was in my late twenties and six months pregnant, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. A few months after that COVID hit, and the film industry shut down and life as everyone knew it stopped.
We ended up moving to the UK to be closer to my husband’s family, and he passed away three months later. So I was in a new country (still experiencing lockdowns) where I barely knew anyone, without a job and with a very young child. I found a little studio and returned to painting, feeling like it was more of a person than a practice. Painting became a friend I could tell everything to, all the pain and confusion and loneliness.
Q: Painting started during a very difficult period in your life. What role did the studio play for you then?
A: The studio absolutely saved me. It was my tiny bit of calm, the space where I could create things that made sense to me and say things that I couldn’t otherwise. I’ve had three long-term studios and each one has been so important, almost a sacred space.
Q: Your work has followed different stages of your life, including pregnancy and motherhood. How have those experiences entered the pieces?
A: Every painting is a self-portrait, so things like pregnancy and motherhood are hugely influential on the work. Being pregnant impacted both my practice and aesthetic as it delved into the emotional and physical complexities of creating another person. There was so much excitement and happiness, but also anxiety, discomfort, uncertainty, and fear, and I think all those intertwining emotions are apparent in my show “Body Language,” which was painted during my pregnancy and shown at Rhodes Contemporary Art at the end of last year.
Q: What usually guides you when you begin a painting?
A: Habit is the very beginning of each painting. I’ve started every painting the same way for years. I prime the canvas, then paint in my cream “frame” and my crayon line borders. Then I begin with sweeping movements in crayon until I find some shape or form that makes sense to me at that moment. I build brushstrokes from there and usually paint over a piece several times before it’s finished. But that routine or habit of starting a painting is grounding and gets me into the right space to work.
Q: The dot appears in many of your pieces. When did you first notice it becoming part of the work?
A: Quite early on, within months of starting to paint every day, I realized I was continually painting this dot. I remember sketching it almost obsessively, kind of like a signature stamp or a graffiti artist’s tag. It took me a long time to figure out why, but as my work began to make more sense to me and I started getting to know it better, I realized the dot was this feeling of home I’d been missing. It was my family, my friends, the feeling of familiarity of place.
Q: Your earlier paintings often used a two-tone palette, while recent works include more colour. What led to that change?
A: I have a fear of becoming too comfortable in my practice. I don’t ever want to get to a place where I don’t feel challenged. I love my black and white paintings and still feel inspired to make them; however, I reached a point where I felt ready to incorporate something scary, and for me that was colour. It doesn’t come naturally to me. I find it can be distracting because there’s so much choice, but it’s bringing me out of myself and teaching me more, and that’s something I value.
Q: You’re preparing your solo debut in New York. How are you approaching this moment in your work?
A: This is such a special show for me because it feels like a homecoming. I’m very proud and very grateful, but my work in this show also deals with the feeling of going home to a place which isn’t really home anymore. I’ve lived in the UK for over five years now and am a citizen, but as an immigrant there will always be some sharp little edges that remind me I’m not really British. In the same way, New York City changes every time I go home to visit and reminds me I’m not really a New Yorker anymore, so this show is exploring that in-between place of not quite belonging.
