In both his life and his art, Stuart Davis is as American as bourbon on the rocks. A dumpy, bejowled man who talks with down-to-earth honesty in a good-natured nasal growl, Davis likes television, football, prizefighting, hot jazz and Manhattan skyscrapers. The bold and violent abstractions he paints echo the clash and clatter of 20th century American life, and they have earned him the acclaim of a satisfying number of fellow Americans. Last week, within four days after a new exhibition of his paintings went on view in Manhattan's Downtown Gallery, four had been sold at prices ranging from $3,500 to...
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