Which Fritz Bultman were you expecting? The highly regarded Irascible who downed scotch with Jackson Pollock, Franz Kline and Willem de Kooning? The philosophical scion of southern gentry, along with Robert Motherwell the only other upper-class outlier in The Club? The ebullient father and husband of one of the great muses of the art world or the barely closeted gay wit used mercilessly by Tennessee Williams as source material? The painter, the sculptor, the collagist or the interior designer and part-time architect? Even regional identification is a problem. A familiar name in his native New Orleans, he sought creative refuge in Europe, became a leader in the arts community of Provincetown at its height and, with Motherwell, Hans Hofmann, Barnett Newman, Mark Rothko, Richard Lindner and Giorgio Cavallon was a bright star in the constellation of artists living in a tight neighborhood on the Upper East Side. He could be a fearless paint-slinger or a conscience-addled second-guesser who scraped back days of pro