Review: Fine Art Print Dealers Association Fair

The International Fine Art Print Dealers Association (IFPDA) fair was this past weekend, the first live incarnation since the Covid calamity. This is one of my favorite art fairs. The association is the anchor trade group for works on paper, so its members buy and sell the very best. When I was in graduate school, I thought I might concentrate on prints and drawings. Both media are intimate since the works tend to be small. Most are made for individual, quiet contemplation. This moved me a great deal, feeling as I did that there’s too much big, vulgar visual noise in the world. That hasn’t changed.

I worked then in the print room at the Clark Art Institute and enjoyed my daily powwows with the longtime curator, Rafael Fernandez, a mentor of knightly passion and commitment. Rafael was a Cuban refugee from a prominent, affluent Havana family that had fled the country, one suitcase each, when Fidel seized power. Like me, he’d once practiced law but thought art history was a better fit. Portly, brilliant, and loquacious, he cut a unique figure on the Williams College campus. I got my foundation in connoisseurship from him and learned to love Old Master and French Post-Impressionist prints from him and, of course, from the Clark’s superb collections in both areas.

About the Author

Brian T. Allen

Brian T. Allen is National Review’s art critic.

The International Fine Art Print Dealers Association (IFPDA) fair was this past weekend, the first live incarnation since the Covid calamity. This is one of my favorite art fairs. The association is the anchor trade group for works on paper, so its members buy and sell the very best. When I was in graduate school, I thought I might concentrate on prints and drawings. Both media are intimate since the works tend to be small. Most are made for individual, quiet contemplation. This moved me a great deal, feeling as I did that there’s too much big, vulgar visual noise in the world. That hasn’t changed.

I worked then in the print room at the Clark Art Institute and enjoyed my daily powwows with the longtime curator, Rafael Fernandez, a mentor of knightly passion and commitment. Rafael was a Cuban refugee from a prominent, affluent Havana family that had fled the country, one suitcase each, when Fidel seized power. Like me, he’d once practiced law but thought art history was a better fit. Portly, brilliant, and loquacious, he cut a unique figure on the Williams College campus. I got my foundation in connoisseurship from him and learned to love Old Master and French Post-Impressionist prints from him and, of course, from the Clark’s superb collections in both areas.