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Stuart Davis Garage no. 1 1917 oil on canvas Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis Matches 1927 oil on canvas Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia |
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Stuart Davis Egg Beater no. 4 1928 oil on canvas Phillips Collection, Washington DC |
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Peggy Bacon Stuart Davis 1929 drawing National Portrait Gallery, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis House and Street 1931 oil on canvas Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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Stuart Davis Lawn and Sky 1931 oil on canvas Blanton Museum of Art, Austin, Texas |
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Stuart Davis Composition 1935 oil on canvas Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis Impression of the New York World's Fair 1938 gouache on board (mural study) Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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Sol Horn Stuart Davis painting Mural in the Studios of WNYC Radio (WPA Project) 1939 gelatin silver print Archives of American Art, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis For Internal Use Only 1945 oil on canvas Reynolda House Museum of American Art, Winston-Salem, North Carolina |
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Stuart Davis Rapt at Rappaport's 1952 oil on canvas Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis Ivy League 1953 screenprint Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis Memo 1956 oil on linen Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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Anonymous Photographer Stuart Davis 1957 gelatin silver print Archives of American Art, Washington DC |
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Stuart Davis The Paris Bit 1959 oil on canvas Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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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 |
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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)