Late in 1934 appeared a book called America and Alfred Stieglitz, composed of about 25 tributes so adoring as to make its title seem an equation. Occasion: the approaching 71st birthday of Manhattan's extraordinary photographer, dealer, apostle of modern art. Last week smoldering old Alfred Stieglitz did his own celebrating in his own way. Two days before his 75th birthday (January 1) he opened an exhibition of clear, sensitive photographs by a young unknown, Eliot Porter. "I sensed a potentiality," said Stieglitz.
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