Thursday, June 5, 2025

Stuart Davis

Stuart Davis
Garage no. 1
1917
oil on canvas
Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC


Stuart Davis
Matches
1927
oil on canvas
Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia

Stuart Davis
Egg Beater no. 4
1928
oil on canvas
Phillips Collection, Washington DC

Peggy Bacon
Stuart Davis
1929
drawing
National Portrait Gallery, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
House and Street
1931
oil on canvas
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

Stuart Davis
Lawn and Sky
1931
oil on canvas
Blanton Museum of Art, Austin, Texas

Stuart Davis
Composition
1935
oil on canvas
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
Impression of the New York World's Fair
1938
gouache on board (mural study)
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

Sol Horn
Stuart Davis painting Mural in the Studios of WNYC Radio
(WPA Project)
1939
gelatin silver print
Archives of American Art, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
For Internal Use Only
1945
oil on canvas
Reynolda House Museum of American Art,
Winston-Salem, North Carolina

Stuart Davis
Rapt at Rappaport's
1952
oil on canvas
Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
Ivy League
1953
screenprint
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
Memo
1956
oil on linen
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

Anonymous Photographer
Stuart Davis
1957
gelatin silver print
Archives of American Art, Washington DC

Stuart Davis
The Paris Bit
1959
oil on canvas
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

Stuart Davis
Whitney Museum of American Art Shopping Bag
(The Paris Bit)

1986
offset-printed paper and cord
Cooper-Hewitt Smithsonian Design Museum, New York

Stuart Davis
Int'l Surface no. 1
1960
oil on canvas
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

from Lost in Translation
 
Mademoiselle does borders. Straight-edge pieces
Align themselves with earth or sky
In twos and threes, naive cosmogonists
Whose views clash. Nomad inlanders meanwhile
Begin to cluster where the totem
Of a certain vibrant egg-yolk yellow
Or pelt of what emerging animal
Acts on the straggler like a trumpet call
To form a more sophisticated unit. 
By suppertime two ragged wooden clouds
Have formed. In one, a Sheik with beard
And flashing sword hilt (he is all but finished)
Steps forward on a tiger skin. A piece
Snaps shut, and fangs gnash out at us!
In the second cloud – they gaze from cloud to cloud
With marked if undecipherable feeling –
Most of a dark-eyed woman veiled in mauve
Is being helped down from her camel (kneeling) 
By a small backward-looking slave or page-boy
(Her son, thinks Mademoiselle mistakenly)
Whose feet have not been found. But lucky finds
In the last minute before bed
Anchor both functions to the scene's limits
And by so doing, orient
Them eye to eye across the green abyss.
The yellow promises, oh bliss, 
To be in time a sumptuous tent.

– James Merrill (1976)