�
�
One of the most intriguing aspects of American folk art is the continuing discovery of talented self-taught artists who, in many cases are virtually unknown to national audiences and the collecting community.
That is the case with Ulysses Davis (1913-1990), arguably the nation’s best self-trained woodcarver, who created sculptures in spare time from working as a barber in Savannah, Ga., and is little known outside his home state. Davis’s body of highly refined sculpture reflects wit, dignity, religious faith, patriotism, a fertile imagination and impeccable skills.
His talent is readily apparent in his idiosyncratic portraits of historical and biblical figures, likenesses of African leaders, realistic animals, fantastic beasts, patriotic symbols and utilitarian objects. Represented among his masterpieces are 41 carved busts of every US President through George H.W. Bush.
In spite of persistent pleas from art collectors and dealers, Davis refused, with few exceptions, to sell his works. “They’re part of me,” he insisted. “They’re part of my treasure. If I sold these, I’d really be poor.” Davis’s wish to have his oeuvre kept intact was realized when the King-Tisdell Cottage Foundation in Savannah acquired the bulk of his work after his death.
It is fitting that the first comprehensive Davis exhibition in years, “The Treasure of Ulysses Davis” has been organized by the High Museum of Art, in collaboration with King-Tisdell. The High is among the only major museums in North America with a curatorial department specifically devoted to folk and self-taught art. On view through April 5 are some 115 Davis objects, drawn largely from the King-Tisdell trove.
“We believe Davis’s work is sure to excite visitors with its energy, whimsy and drama,” said High director Michael Shapiro. The High’s curator of folk art, Susan Mitchell Crawley, assembled the show and wrote the accompanying catalog, the first monograph on the artist. Davis’s work, she says, “is widely esteemed but too rarely seen.” Indeed, his carvings are rarely shown outside of Savannah.
Born in rural Fitzgerald, Ga., Davis learned metalworking from his blacksmith father, and began whittling wood scraps as a youngster. His mother, to help keep the family warm, tossed most of his creations into the fire. The only early effort to survive, “First Man,” carved around 1924 when Davis was 11, shows considerable promise for a beginner. Leaving school after the tenth grade to help support his family, Davis worked as a blacksmith’s assistant on the railroad, an experience that enabled him to make many of the tools he later used in woodcarving.
�
�
� After being laid off in the early 1950s, he began barbering in a shop he built behind his home in Savannah. He and his beloved wife Elizabeth raised nine children.�
�
�
� A modest man, Davis called himself simply a whittler, but he was clearly much more than that. In his spare time he carved figures from shipyard lumber, wood he bought at lumberyards and reclaimed pieces donated by friends. He rarely made preliminary drawings or models, instead reducing the mass of wood with a hatchet, or later a band saw, before refining the form with a chisel and knives.�
�
� He was said to believe there was art hidden in every piece of wood and that his job was to carve away the excess.�
�
� Davis’s work is characterized by fine, textural detail, often obtained by using tools of his barbering trade, such as the blade of his hair clippers, and stamps he learned to fabricate while working on the railroad. He stained and painted more than 300 carvings, ranging in height from 6 to more than 40 inches.�
�
��
�
�
�
�
�
�
� A devout Christian, Davis devoted much work to biblical illustrations or forms of visual praise. He depicted such biblical figures as the Angel Gabriel, the Apostle Paul, Ruth and Pontius Pilate. His knowledge of the Bible is demonstrated by a sinuous, striking bas-relief, “The Brazen Serpent,” 1940‱985, recalling “the brass snake God instructed Moses to fabricate for the relief of the Israelites who had been bitten by poisonous snakes sent to punish them for complaining about the privations of the Exodus (Numbers 21:4‹),” writes Crawley in the catalog.�
�
�
� Davis was particularly drawn to the story of Moses, depicting him in a triumphant pose in “Moses on Mt Sinai,” 1940‱985, in a more contemplative mood in “Moses with the Ten Commandments,” a 1967 mahogany masterwork, and in an abstraction of spherical motifs in “Moses Going to the Mountaintop,” circa 1990.�
�
� In one of his largest works, “Jesus on the Cross,” 1946, measuring 40½ by 14 by 6 inches and made of cedar, mahogany, toothpicks and paint, he reduced the figure’s anatomy to simple geometric shapes and worked painstakingly to carve the crown, whose thorns were made of toothpicks. “Davis carved as if performing a penance,” says Crawley, “enumerating and empathizing with Christ’s sufferings as he worked.”�
�
� Davis died while applying the last few pearls to “Garden of Eden,” 1990. Here, a spooky, black serpent rises from the tabletop, which is painted in celestial gold that may suggest the sculptor’s confidence in his own salvation. Adam and Eve, intertwined at the base, are threatened by a descending blade.�
�
� In spite of living through overt racism and Jim Crow laws in the deep South, Davis was deeply patriotic, as conveyed in works ranging from a golden-hued “Statue of Liberty,” 1939, to a red, white and blue “Uncle Sam” on a pedestal, created to celebrate America’s bicentennial in 1976.�
�
�
�
�
�
� His love of country was perhaps most prominently displayed in the masterworks of his career: busts of all US Presidents up until his death. Drawing on frequent visits to the public library and his own collection of history books, Davis fashioned out of painted mahogany a fascinating, albeit superficially similar, series of likenesses of our Chief Executives. Each measures around 8½ by 4 by 2 inches.�
�
�
� On close scrutiny, some, such as Washington and Franklin D. Roosevelt, do not look much like their subjects. Better are Van Buren, Lincoln, Arthur and Truman. The best likenesses include Hayes, Theodore Roosevelt, Kennedy and Reagan. Davis portrayed Lincoln, the Great Emancipator, frequently, and carved at least five portraits of Jimmy Carter, a fellow Georgian.�
�
� The Presidential series is most impressive when seen together, according to curator Crawley. “Viewed as an installation and considered as a political or historical statement,” she says, “they testify to Davis’s staunch patriotism †colored by his oft-repeated assertion that he did not play favorites, regardless of what he thought of their deeds, because they were ‘the ones I say shaped and created this nation.'”�
�
� African American heroes depicted by Davis ranged from Frederick Douglass to Martin Luther King to Bill Cosby. His bust of Robert F. Kennedy captures something of the subject’s boyish look and pensive demeanor.�
�
� With characteristic modesty, Davis used ordinary wood, not mahogany, in depicting himself, 1940‱985, as a bespectacled, pipe-smoking seer. Carved after her death, his portrait of his wife, a pious, regal-looking “Goddess of Peace and Love,” circa 1984, was inspired by a popular devotional image of Jesus, the Infant of Prague. Fashioned out of California redwood with paint and his wife’s jewels, this piece, nearly 20 inches tall, is more than twice the height of his own statue.�
�
� Davis assembled an extensive collection of books about African art and history and studied the subjects in the public library, and although he denied being influenced by such sources, he clearly drew on Africanized forms for a number of works. They are among the most interesting pieces in the exhibition.�
�
� The African aesthetic began to appear in Davis’s work in the 1960s and 1970s, when the Civil Rights movement encouraged African Americans to explore their African roots. In the 1970s, inspired by an Anheuser-Busch advertising calendar that depicted great kings and queens of Africa, Davis carved nine of the rulers represented. A standout is a small but powerful mahogany and paint relief carving, “Hannibal,” 1975‸5, which shows the helmeted, scowling leader, with gold bracelets on his arms, encircled by elephant tusks and surmounted by a huge, horizontal dagger. Recalling the sword that hung over Damocles, “Davis may have been adding his own symbolic touch in suspending Hannibal’s weapon over the head of this brilliant but doomed leader,” says Crawley.�
�
�
�
�
�
� In a striking piece created out of wood, brass, glass and shiny black paint, “Makonde,” no date, Davis appears to have directly appropriated the� � umjamma� � (Tree of Life) motif of the Makonde people of Tanzania and Mozambique. Drawn from their creation myth, the interlocking figures, sinuously carved by Davis, represent elders at the bottom supporting their descendants above. The design celebrates the interconnectedness of African societies.�
�
�
� A man with a rich and fertile imagination, the Savannah barber seemed to particularly enjoy carving fantastic creatures. His “Created Beasts” include forms ranging from multiheaded winged lions from the Book of Daniel to lizardlike reptiles carrying insects or swallowing other creatures.�
�
� In a particularly imaginative, tiny piece, “Two Heads with Red and Green Eyes,” not dated, Davis rearranged and exaggerated features of the larger face and flipperlike arms into an eye-popping image. Bulging eyes, common in Yorba sculpture, were often incorporated as here, via rhinestones. Such embellishments, which he called “twinklets,” often came from his wife’s broken jewelry or objects from her cast-off dresses. “For sheer formal inventiveness, nothing matched Davis’s own mind,” observes Crawley.�
�
� The playful “No No Bird,” 1960‱985, drawn from the carver’s ideas about “dinosaur days,” depicts an avian with a long, toothy jaw and tiny, undeveloped wings that suggest its name comes from its inability to fly.�
�
� Other creatures, both fearsome and whimsical, include “Created Beast with Many Heads,” not dated, and “Beast with Wings,” circa 1988, are characterized by fine details, such as meticulously rendered fish scales, protruding teeth and prominent fins/wings.�
�
� Out of his imaginary travels in space, Davis developed a series of “Creatures from another Planet,” such as the “Emperor of Mars,” 1960‱985. Melding a lifeform with furniture, this 14-by-9¼-by-10¼-inch piece features a gold-garbed, reddish-brown faced, limbless emperor seated on a platform with curved serpents as arms, and feet that resemble Eighteenth Century ball and claw forms.�
�
�
�
�
�
� In other grotesque, extraterrestrial figures Davis added or subtracted facial features, like eyes and noses, and even provided more faces in “Three-Faced Man,” 1940‱985, perhaps a bow to Cubism.�
�
�
� Davis applied his interest in jewels and other sparkling adornments to a group of imaginatively decorated pieces, such as “Black Box with Pearls,” no date. He crowned this nonfunctional receptacle with a jewel-encrusted crown supported on the intertwined necks of three graceful birds. While ostensibly purely decorative, these works had a philosophical or religious significance to the artist.�
�
� Although Davis saw himself as merely a whittler, he was, in reality, a master carver in the great tradition of Southern American folk art. His varied subjects, knowledge of history and the Bible, deep religious faith, astute design skills, fancy surfaces and, above all, his wide-ranging imagination, set his impeccably carved works apart from other self-trained artists.�
�
� This exhibition does justice to the magical and approachable oeuvre of this overlooked, self-taught artistic genius. The 119-page exhibition catalog, is beautifully illustrated and filled with insightful commentary by Crawley about Davis’s life and individual works. Published by the High Museum in collaboration with King-Tisdell Cottage Foundation and distributed by University Press of Mississippi, it sells for $35 hardcover.�
�
� The High Museum of Art is at 1280 Peachtree Street NE. For information,� � www.High.org� or 404-733-4444.�
�
� �
