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| Franz Kline The Chair 1950 oil on canvas Walker Art Center, Minneapolis |
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| Franz Kline Untitled 1950 acrylic on newsprint National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Franz Kline Painting no. 7 1952 oil on canvas Guggenheim Museum, New York |
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| Franz Kline Untitled 1952 oil on paper, mounted on canvas Guggenheim Museum, New York |
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| Franz Kline Orange Outline 1955 oil on paper, mounted on canvas North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh |
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| Franz Kline Composition 1955 oil, graphite and ink on paper Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Franz Kline Head ca. 1956-60 gouache on paper Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Untitled 1957 oil on paper Phillips Collection, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Untitled 1957 ink on paper Phillips Collection, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Sketch for Corinthian 1958 collage and ink on paper Walker Art Center, Minneapolis |
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| Franz Kline Untitled ca. 1959 oil on paper Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Blueberry Eyes 1959-60 oil on board Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Black and White no. 2 1960 oil on canvas Blanton Museum of Art, Austin, Texas |
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| Franz Kline Merce C. 1961 oil on canvas Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Franz Kline Untitled ca. 1961 oil on cardboard Huntington Museum of Art, Huntington, West Virginia |
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| Franz Kline Red Painting 1961 oil on canvas Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Franz Kline Slate Cross 1961 oil on canvas Dallas Museum of Art |
from The Opera Company
After the war
No jewel remained but feeling.
The head held itself high beneath
Instinct red and branchy, torn from depths,
The bleached jaws of the serpent or the cat.
No more tiaras. Joys, humiliations,
Greed's bluewhite choker, guilt beading the brow –
Thus we arrayed
Our women, and were proud.
The actual stones were kept or not, like Bibles,
Never used.
Meanwhile an old pitfall came to light.
When hadn't there been counterfeit
Emotions? But these now
Went undetected at the gala nights,
And "lumps of primal pain"
Were worn by daylight in resorts.
So much so, that many are preferring
To sit dry-eyed through the opera, to climb down
From the shabby rafters, having watched
Merely, and listened.
How beautiful these last performances
That fail to move us!
– James Merrill (1969)