Small works of large importance pulse with a city's energy

Abraham Walkowitz died in 1965, but in the early 1990s a stack of drawings was discovered in his studio, a body of work he had never shown. Made in New York in the early 1930s, they jump with the city's angles and rhythms, layering clearly defined geometries with shading, patterns, and elegant, sweeping gestures. A handful of these works make up the centerpiece of a Walkowitz show at Beth Urdang Gallery.

Urdang has thrown in three bold, colorful, and spare Alexander Calder drawings to balance Walkowitz's smaller black-and-white works, which can feel dense and caffeinated beside Calder's serenely floating blots of black, blue, and red. While it's exciting to see Calder's drawings -- they're so much like his mobiles -- the exhibit belongs to Walkowitz, with three distinct series on view, culminating with the 1930s abstractions.

Chronologically, the show starts with Walkowitz's well-known Isadora Duncan drawings, dated 1908. As a young man, he traveled to Paris, saw the dancer perform in a salon, and fell for her. He created thousands of sketches, made up of swift, graceful ink lines and watercolor washes to tone her skin and loose, flowing garment. You can't miss his attraction to the performer in the way his lines caress her shape.

Three ink drawings titled ''I Glorify New York, A Symphony in Lines," made just four years later, launch the artist into the gritty, pulsing urban landscapes that characterize his oeuvre. One shows the Flatiron Building, with buildings on either side of the flanking streets like theater curtains opening. The skyscraper holds the center, iconic, as speckles at the bottom (people) and at the top (birds) converge upon it.

But these feel like a mere prelude to the jazz symphony Walkowitz offers with the 1930s drawings. In the first, a disk hangs in the air over a collection of triangles and pylonlike columns, suggesting New York Harbor. These signatures repeat through the series, with shades, patterns, and gestures added on. There's a hint of Kandinsky in the angles, a forecast of Pollock in the wild layering, and a sweet echo of Isadora Duncan in the fluid gestures that sometimes top off and tie up a piece. For such small works -- just over 5 by 6 inches -- they're intense, vibrant, and important.

Alexander Calder and Abraham Walkowitz
At: Beth Urdang Gallery, 14 Newbury St., through Aug. 13. 617-424-8468; www.bethurdanggallery.com.