In Memoriam

Alan M. Fern (1930–2021)

by Ruth Fine

head of a figure looking up, printed in black and orange ink
Everett Raymond Kinstler, Alan M. Fern, 2004. Oil on canvas. National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, Gift of Everett Raymond Kinstler, 2004.

Alan Maxwell Fern, a longtime member of the Print Council of America, was born in Detroit, Michigan, where he lived until he enrolled at the University of Chicago to study art history. In Detroit, he had attended Cass Technical High School, which fostered a strong art department. According to Lois Fern, Alan’s life partner and a good friend to many of us in the Print Council, he originally wanted to be a painter, and he also learned photography while in high school. This remained a lifelong preoccupation, and he had a frequently used darkroom in his home. 

Alan earned his bachelor and master of arts degrees from the University of Chicago. After then studying as a Fulbright Scholar at the Courtauld Institute in London, he returned to the University of Chicago, earning his PhD in 1960. His dissertation was on the Eragny Press, founded in London in 1895 by Lucien Pissarro, painter Camille Pissarro’s eldest son. While based in London, Alan also traveled to the continent for the first time, including trips to museums in Holland and France. His primary focus, however, was his extensive study of the British private-press movement. A collector at heart, he acquired many distinctive publications as part of his work.

Alan also met the British painter Orovida Camille Pissarro, Lucien’s daughter, who gave him access to her files on her father and his work, thereby enhancing his interest in the history and publications of Eragny Press. This field of private-press books and their founders, like photography, remained a lifelong interest for Alan: he and Lois ultimately donated the collection of Leonard Baskin and Gehenna Press material they assembled to the University of Pennsylvania’s Kislak Center for Special Collections, Rare Books and Manuscripts. 

Alan taught Humanities I at the University of Chicago from 1952 to 1961, offering an overview of art, music (he played piano and violin), and literature, a subject of which he had broad knowledge. He has been recalled by many of his students as a patient, generous, and sympathetic teacher, and all three of these were qualities that remained strong in his professional mentorship of colleagues, myself among them. 

In 1961, Lois and Alan moved to the Washington, DC, area, where he remained for the rest of his life. Alan was initially on the staff at the Library of Congress, as Assistant Curator in the Department of Prints and Photographs, headed at the time by Edgar Breitenbach. Alan became Curator of Fine Prints the following year and was rapidly promoted through the ranks to the position of Assistant Chief of the Department, then Chief. From 1976 to 1978, Alan was Director of the Library’s Research Department, and then Director of Special Collections from 1978 to 1982. 

Karen Beall, who joined the Library of Congress on a Ford Foundation Grant to compile a catalogue of the Library’s American prints collection, has gratefully applauded Alan’s support of her as a new member of his staff (in an email to me of January 13, 2022):

Each day during my first week he took me around to people in our and other departments, or made coffee or lunch dates so I would meet people, and he went also, by way of supporting these introductions. I shared his office for a year, and while I had some familiarity with prints and printmaking, it had never been my specialty. Alan gave me small assignments to be sure I understood all the necessary demands of these particular processes. When he was promoted to Curator of Fine Prints, I was moved at a lower level into his previous position; and with his encouragement wrote many articles for the Library of Congress Quarterly Journal, which immediately broadened my writing skills.

Alan left the Library to become Director of the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery in 1982, where his love of research proved equally important. His warmth and commitment as a guiding spirit for his staff continued beyond his retirement in 2000. Memories from both Wendy Wick Reaves (in an email to me of January 24, 2022), who worked closely with Alan at the Portrait Gallery, and Anne Collins Goodyear (in an email to me of January 16, 2022), who came on staff after he had left, reflect similar feelings as Beall’s about his mentorship. According to Reaves:

Alan taught me as a young curator to trust my own instincts, figure out my own solution to whatever issues arose, and then get permission to proceed. That was invaluable. And he was always so supportive of my acquisitions as I moved from collecting prints to collecting drawings, posters, cartoons, and caricature. My fellow curators and I really appreciated his support for our exhibitions. Alan knew everyone. His legendary charm and humor as well as his broad connections in the art world were invaluable in dealing with other museums, artists, and donors. He was an extraordinary leader.

He also has been credited with doubling the Portrait Gallery’s permanent collection during his tenure, clearly on the recommendations of his curators. Goodyear, now Co-Director of the Bowdoin College Museum of Art, offered this marvelous tribute to Alan’s long-term role at the Portrait Gallery: 

I do not remember exactly when I met Alan, but I vividly recall the extraordinary warmth and support that his presence radiated. From my very earliest days as an Assistant Curator of Prints and Drawings at the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery, Alan’s steady encouragement of the museum and of every member of our curatorial team was palpable. By this time, Alan had retired as director of the NPG, but continued to be one of its strongest advocates. Ever elegant, Alan “showed up,” but never interfered. Always ready to share generously of his wisdom and experience, Alan demonstrated that his vocation was also his avocation and that the strength of our community derived not so much from our professional obligations as from our commitment to one another and to the art and ideas that knit us together. I continue to take inspiration from his example and the important ways in which it continues to nurture our field.

This supportive attitude was at the center of Alan’s professionalism. He wrote many forewords, introductions, and reviews, but few extended texts, the most celebrated of which are two he co-authored with Museum of Modern Art curator Mildred Constantine: Word and Image: Posters from the Collection of The Museum of Modern Art (1968) and Revolutionary Soviet Film Posters (1974).

His lofty place in the professional world is affirmed not only by his roles in the Print Council of America and the Association of Art Museum Directors, but also by his international decorations: Chevalier de l’Ordre de la Couronne (Belgium), Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (France), and Commander Royal Order of the Polar Star (Sweden).

I connected with Alan as if he were the older brother I never had. Whenever I dreamed up a scheme that seemed slightly off-the-wall, I would call to discuss it with him. If, after our conversation, I was still willing to press forward, I knew I was doing it having heard all of the reasons not to. I miss that voice of reason, but greatly treasure the many conversations we had over several decades. I am certain many of us have similar memories and feelings of deep gratitude to Alan Fern, an understated giant in our field.