As I meandered through the BMA last weekend, Matisse's 'Large Reclining Nude' gave me a momentary flutter, a fleeting familiarity. I stood in front of it for a few minutes, trying to determine why it caused such a sensation. Maybe it's the way the gridded background seems to hold that curving pink body in place, so that your eye constantly circles around, from the figure's foot, to her bent knee, across the elongated torso and then up her arm, which hangs over her head, down her shoulder and other arm. Or it could be the colors—the lump of the soft, Pink Pearl-eraser color against the deep blue, with the white grid lines crossing over it in a carefully clumsy way. But then I remembered Street Matisse.