Until quite recently, one could be forgiven for thinking that the study of old master drawings would remain impervious to the “new art history.” Motivated by questions of authorship, authenticity and quality, scholars of drawings have often been reluctant to interpret draftsmanship, connoisseurship, or the collection of drawings as culturally, socially, or historically constructed phenomena. Three new books, however, powerfully challenge this state of affairs by offering stimulating new readings of Padre Sebastiano Resta, a famed, but much maligned, late seventeenth-century collector; of Jonathan Richardson, one of connoisseurship’s most often-cited, but understudied, theorists, and of the role of drawing itself in the formation of early modern subjectivity. Genevieve Warwick examines the practices of Sebastiano Resta, an Oratorian father in Rome who collected drawings from 1680 until his death in 1714. As a connoisseur, Resta has been disparaged; his attributions of authorship have been held to the standards of modern connoisseurship and, not surprisingly, found wanting. Viewed from a historical perspective, however, these very errors highlight the particularity of Resta’s collecting and connoisseurship, and it is the historical specificity of these practices that is the subject of Warwick’s book. She investigates how Catholic devotional practices, courtly traditions, social identity and emergent market forces structured the reception of drawings in the late seventeenth century. Her study of Resta’s activities thus elucidates a specific moment in the history of the collection of drawings, but it is also intended as a contribution to a broader historical ethnography of collecting, one which combines historical investigation with the critical insights of anthropology and sociology to address questions of identity, social memory and the social significance of modes of exchange. Resta’s collecting was philanthropic. He acquired and assembled ca. 3500 drawings into more than 30 albums in order to raise money for charity. Resta’s albums were not intended to be sold, but rather to be given in exchange for charitable donations. They were also, as Warwick makes clear, a way for Resta to establish and consolidate social bonds with the Italian gentlemen and princes whom he sought out as patrons. By placing his albums in elite Italian collections or in civic collections under noble patronage, Resta hoped to stem the plunder of Italy’s artistic patrimony by foreigners and to preserve its inherited visual and cultural traditions for the future. Warwick argues that Resta conceived of his albums as a form of “cultural mnemonic” (130), as repositories both of an Italian