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Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
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The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
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Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
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Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
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This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
%20(Franklin%20Parrasch%20Gallery).jpg)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
Since its inception in 2003, Frieze has symbolised ‘the art of the new.’ Challenging Tate and the Turner Prize in its dominance of British art, the art fair has accelerated the commercialisation, and influx of international money, into the British art scene. Opposition is plentiful, largely coming from those who lament the censuring of the rebellious punk spirit of the 1990s and YBA movement.
Frieze is certainly somewhere to be seen at as much as to see. You have to flick past a handful of fashion ads before you get to any visual articles in the magazine. It’s clean, quiet, white inside. Even the bins aren’t bins, but doors shrouded with felt curtains, perhaps because bins are vulgar.
It’s an all-consuming place - or three, with the largest main fair, the Masters, and a sculpture trail - all set in London’s Regent’s Park. Its champagne and oyster bars are a world away from the economic crisis unfolding outside its doors. A ticket sets you back £60, the compulsory bag drop a fiver, but the rest of the prices remain more secretly guarded – save for one Alberto Giacometti sculpture, which will set you back $4.6 million.
Those distant from the Deutsche Bank Wealth Management Lounges linger around London, the larger, main fair. Despite its wealth of international art, attentions (and stickers) pile on the familiar, from the prolific output of Lucien Freud, to pop culture puppets.
The diversity of the media on display – from dinosaur bones, to rare books, and dinner set cutlery – is not reflected in the diversity of the subjects, or artists. Masters has plenty of internationally-sourced objects, but in white, American and European collections, packaged and marketed to a predominantly white, privileged audience. Other stands focus solely on political art from marginalised communities, including Jaune Quick-to-See Smith at Garth Greenan, Jacob Lawrence at ACA Galleries, and Rasheed Araeen at Grosvenor Gallery.
Ambrose Naumann is one of the most international in its composition, showcasing Margaret Grossman, Arthur Grimm, Jadwiga Umińska, and Dimitri Ismailovitch in one glance. In the main show, Delhi-based gallery Vadehra Art Gallery expands representation across Asia.
Masters is a smaller affair to the main show, but it is surprisingly contemporary. Brueghels, Boschs, and Lucas Cranachs abound at De Jonckheere, and there are hyperrealistic academic studies from the French School at Elliott Fine Arts. But otherwise, the modern classics of the 20th century are well-represented too, with German expressionism at Richard Nagy, Roy Lichtenstein’s ‘Bonsai Tree’ (1992) sculpture at Castelli, and embroidered political maps at Ben Brown.
Richard Green, which has handled 400 of L.S. Lowry’s paintings since 1968, show a wide-ranging selection of the artist’s works. With lengthy captions on the artist, and information about their numerous collaborations with museums in Salford and Manchester, their stall is one of the most accessible.
Otherwise, a lot of the work is displayed without context, as is typical in commercial galleries. It’s something that Frieze has sought to remedy through subtle interventions from Fitzwilliam Director and Marlay Curator Luke Syson.
Syson’s STAND OUT stories recentre the loci of global art history, showing cities at the crossroads of artistic flows. Next to Chinese artworks, captions detail how Chang’an (now Xi’an) was the world’s largest city during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). The capital’s 50-80 million strong population, from diverse migrant backgrounds, interacted with foreign people and visual cultures.
At Peter Finer, artefacts from the Momoyama Edo period embody the Japanese ‘art of war’. International trade, which followed unification under Toyotomi Hideyoshi, led to artisans layering traditional dragon designs upon ‘imitation’ Portuguese armoury – a practice which persisted long after the expulsion of European traders.
This year’s SPOTLIGHT exclusively features women, with popular favourites like Fahrelnissa Zeid’s Scottish scenes at Dirimart and Leonor Fini’s hanging skeletons at Loeve&Co. Franklin Parrasch Gallery has a fantastic collection of Sylvia Snowden’s abstract impasto figures – also on show in Soho – whilst Ruth Asawa’s plant sketches, lovingly adorned with her signature, dominate at David Zwirner. (When the artist received flowers, she’d often return the favour with a drawing, immortalising the gift.)
Hayv Kahraman is deservedly well-represented; an Iraqi-American artist of Kurdish descent, Kahraman was born in Baghdad and fled to Sweden with family during the Gulf War, then studying in Florence before moving to her current base in Los Angeles. Pilar Corrias indulges in her visceral paintings, tracing paper sketches, and preparatory work.
My very first Frieze has given me a chance to pause and reflect on how the private art market has changed public institutions. But more widely, it speaks to how museums and art galleries have shifted to serve international wealth rather than local populations – a debate that will no doubt continue into Frieze’s thirtieth year in 2023.
