Art Daddy Fair Dispatch:
Highlights from AIPAD: No fair tote, paying for hard liquor at the VIP opening, and more Darius than I ever wanted post 2024.
The AIPAD VIP opening this year was giving… polite daddy energy. The daddies were daddaying, don’t get me wrong — lots of navy blazers, expensive eyewear, and that unmistakable scent of money mixed with melancholy. But the overall vibe? A little mid. The crowd was there, but not there. The photos lacked the usual sparkle — no one giving face, no one giving fashion. It felt like a TEFAF’s bad step sister who went to state school and drinks Pinot Grigio on sale.
This silver stallion set the tone for the start of the fair for daddy.
And listen, nothing screams “recession vibes” louder than no VIP tote bag and the indignity of having to pay for tequila. I’m sorry — this is supposed to be a VIP opening, not a cash bar at your cousin’s third wedding. Make it make sense, daddy. The daddies were mid and exuding an air of seasoned sophistication, yet the overall ambiance leaned more towards subdued than sensational.
Silver prints and silver fox daddies.
AIPAD 2025 was doing its best to sparkle under the chandeliers of the Park Avenue Armory, but let’s be honest—it was giving recession realness with a side of polite panic. The kind where everything looks fine from far away, but if you lean in too close, the seams start to show. And no one embodied that more than Daddy Exhibit A: Darius Himes, who came dressed in what can only be described as a Men’s Wearhouse fever dream—boxy shoulders, off-the-rack tailoring, and a pocket square so stiff it looked like it hadn’t been touched since the Bush administration. We’re in a post-Raf economy and that’s what you’re wearing to AIPAD? Sweetheart. Daddy.
We loved this fair photo daddyscape.
It wasn’t just Darius, though. The whole evening had that subtle but unmistakable air of art-world belt-tightening that screamed "budget cuts." Gone are the days of flowing Ruinart and thick card-stock press materials—this year, we’re doing sparkling water and vibes. The daddies were there, yes, and some of them even served print-flavored face, but the luxury was conspicuously missing. Daddy didn’t feel pampered, we felt processed. And in this economy, we’re going to need more than a dusty gelatin silver print and a pat on the back to call something a luxury art event.
Despite these shortcomings, the fair itself offered moments of brilliance. Monroe Gallery's presentation stood out, featuring compelling works by photojournalists Ron Haviv and Bing Guan, whose images captured the complexities of American politics and social issues with striking clarity. Obscura Gallery showcased Rashod Taylor's 'My America' series, a poignant exploration of Black identity and patriotism through the lens of fine art photography. These exhibits provided depth and context, reminding attendees of the fair's commitment to both aesthetic excellence and meaningful discourse.
This fair daddy, fairing.
In the end, while the event may have lacked some of the expected extravagance, the presence of true connoisseurs and the quality of the showcased works reaffirmed AIPAD's place in the art world. The silver-haired stallions, with their discerning eyes and impeccable taste, navigated the fair with the grace and authority that only years of experience can bestow. And though the evening's amenities may have been modest, the art itself remained the true star of the show.
This daddy living his best mid VIP life.
That said, a huge shoutout to the art book publishers who showed up and showed out — the only true keepers of taste, paper, and affordable lust objects. Daddy sees you. Daddy loves you. And while many wandered the aisles in beige blazers and poor lighting, a few silver-haired stallions emerged as true print daddies among a herd of basics. We see you, ponyboys of photography. If AIPAD wants to keep its place on the spring fair circuit, it needs to remember one thing: we come for the prints, but we stay for the perks.
Go see the fair for yourself this weekend, its open through Sunday.