The Art Fair 
Blueprint

(Art Fair) Many art fairs may have been established around the world since Frieze first debuted in London in 2003 but it’s hard to come close to its level of influence and edge. Born out of the activities of Frieze magazine, the art fair always had a brainy backbone and a critical perspective. The tent inside Regent’s Park quickly struck gold not just because of good gallery line-ups and smart programming: somehow, it quickly turned into an unmissable salon where the city’s creative class paraded in their best outfits. Over the years, it became the blueprint—but also the stereotype—for the very idea of an art fair: as much a social event as a commercial one, glass-clinking and gossip as well as sales, and a yearly appointment that has cemented October into London’s de-facto art month.

While its well-established Swiss counterpart Art Basel comes with Central European might and a self-assured bravado, Frieze has often felt like something of an intellectual rascal, with plenty of London-specific wit. Its international expansions—to New York first, Los Angeles later, and finally to Seoul in 2022—have all managed to maintain this colorful personality, showcasing the sense of engagement blended with other disciplines that makes Frieze more a cultural player than simply an art marketplace.

It’s interesting, then, that such a razor-sharp fair should have decided, ever since 2012, to welcome a historical relative to the fold. Frieze Masters, its poised sister, sits not far away from the original fair’s tent but its atmosphere has always felt both more hushed and stately than its neighbor’s.

All art on display here was created pre-2000: in practice, that means anything from illuminated manuscripts to segments of archaeological treasures, Flemish paintings, Japanese block prints, Mughal miniatures, and more. For many, it has often felt like a surrogate museum, a place to gawp at jaw-dropping masterpieces before they get snapped up and join a private owner’s collection.

At the Masterpiece section that was recently launched to accompany Frieze Seoul, queues famously formed in front of booths showing works by Canaletto and Egon Schiele. Increasingly, the kind of people who are not only attending—but, crucially, are buying—at these events are no longer just the well-suited collectors of previous years. A new generation of buyers is gravitating towards historical art—and with equally young dealers taking the reins of storied galleries, a fundamental shift is afoot.

Frieze Masters itself is welcoming a new, fresh-faced director: Italy-born Emanuela Tarizzo, who has lived in London since 2006, spending time at its auction houses and galleries (including an eight-year stint at Mayfair’s Tomasso Gallery) before joining the Frieze team earlier this year. On the eve of her debut edition, Maison Ë sat down with Tarizzo.

Maison Ë When you start a new job, there’s always an expectation you’ll put your own stamp on things. How will you go about this?

Emanuela Tarizzo When the offer to work as director of Frieze Masters came along, I thought it was a great opportunity to work for the community of dealers I know and whose work I admire. It also felt like a fantastic challenge: it’s something new for me but at the same time, very familiar, in the sense that I have many years of experience from the point of view of the exhibitor. This is certainly something I bring into this position and which informs my approach.

M.Ë How much can and should Frieze Masters evolve?

E.T. I think fairs are platforms, essentially, and they obviously change with taste and with the times. The first Frieze Masters was in 2012 and the world is in a different place now: market trends have evolved, taste has evolved. A fair—any fair—has to help its community respond and adjust to that. Change and evolution are a gradual process: I have ideas, but what I need to do first is listen.

M.Ë The idea that there has been such a dramatic change since 2012 is really interesting, because we tend to think of our take on historical art as moving on a different time scale than, say, contemporary art. How have you seen it change?

E.T. Part of it has to do with generational change. We are seeing younger, newer collectors coming into the market, but also younger dealers who bring their own experience, their viewpoints, and their networks into it. Now, compared to 10 or 15 years ago, collectors want to be informed: they want to know everything there is to know about what they’re buying. They’re also more driven by narrative and society and what they individually respond to, rather than a sense of collecting by category—like the Dutch Golden Age or the School of Rembrandt.

We’re seeing a lot more cross-collecting: ancient Greek, Roman, and Egyptian art were the first categories I noticed being collected across generations and across disciplines. People who were buying contemporary art are now mixing it with ancient art. And it’s broadening: it’s happening with decorative arts, paintings, drawings. There are different factors at play, including the fact that you have categories in historical art that are actually fairly accessible.

Because we have so much information at our fingertips, buyers are realizing that what they thought was very expensive or only for museums, is actually not. Fairs play a role in this: some dealers are publishing their prices openly. It’s definitely a choice.

M.Ë Does that cross-disciplinary collecting happen because the hierarchies or boundaries between disciplines are shifting?

E.T. I don’t know if it’s about hierarchies. I think it’s about exposure, probably, and about how taste has changed in design, about how we live in our homes. Twenty years ago, a contemporary white-cube aesthetic was very in vogue, but that’s changed: there’s a richness to decoration that the younger generation is embracing as well.

M.Ë I wonder how much of a psychological aspect there is to it? Is our taste shifting because it’s reflecting a need for a sense of permanence, an openness to be anchored by the past?

E.T. There’s definitely an interest in connecting with the past and with something that feels storied and textured physically, but also historically. Something that speaks to generations of ownership, of care, of passion. I think that artworks can help engender a sense of belonging. In creating your collection, you create something about yourself as well—you ground yourself, in a way. Learning is something that attracts everyone to art; the possibility of spending some time and getting to grips with an object with a story.

M.Ë What’s the role of Frieze Masters in all of this—what makes it different to other fairs?

E.T. One of the points that informs our way of thinking is the opportunity for discovery. We want to encourage people to come in because they are passionate about one thing or they know one gallery, but then next to it, they can find someone in a completely different discipline. We don’t segment our galleries: we don’t have a modern, ancient, sculpture, or painting section. We try to bring it all together. This was one of the founding principles and it’s still very true today. It makes the fair what it is and differentiates it from others.

M.Ë So many contemporary art fairs are popping up around the world. Do you think we will witness a growth on the historical side of the spectrum, too?

E.T. We’ve definitely seen an uptake in terms of interest in historical art in recent years—the so-called “Classic Week Sales” in London had some absolutely fantastic results. Whether that will translate into more art fairs is a possibly a more technical consideration.

When it comes to galleries that work on historical material, sourcing takes time. Galleries that concentrate on Masters will do fewer fairs a year than contemporary art galleries by default. Obviously, you’re not talking to a living artist with an active practice. You buy things, you assess their condition, you sometimes have to get them to a conservator, you might want to reframe them. All of these things take time. There’s a good number of fairs—in Paris, Florence, Rome, in London of course, in New York. Will we see many more? I don’t know, but I think that it is tailored to the cycle of historical art.

M.Ë At a time when we’re all a bit jittery about the state of the world, do you think people are coming to historical art also because it feels like a more resilient market?

E.T. I think in art, if you make an informed purchase, it’s a good purchase. You can try and track the value of works, but there are so many elements that go into the value of a piece, contemporary as well as historical. If you look at one artist and check their results, there can be huge variation. Why? Maybe it’s because the works are from a different period. It can be that one’s a drawing, one’s a painting, or one is a tiny sketch, and the other one is a giant altarpiece. If you just look at the bottom line, I don’t think that reflects fully what you’re looking at.

Like every historical art fair, Frieze Masters is vetted: it is reassuring in times like these to know that whatever you’re buying, whether it’s a tiny, ancient fragment or a big painting by Magritte, it’s been accepted by all the relevant experts.

M.Ë Finally, can you can share with us any information about this edition of the fair?

E.T. This year, we have three curated sections: “Spotlight” invites galleries to bring monographic solo presentations on one artist operating between 1950 and 1980 who has been overlooked in the past. “Studio” invites contemporary artists that are at a mature point in their career to look back at what has inspired them. And then we have “Reflections”—the idea is to concentrate on objects, and we are doing that through the lens of two important collections in the UK: the Sir John Soane Museum and Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge.

As for me, I’m really excited about everything, because it’s my first edition as a director. We have two American galleries, Karma and Salon 94, joining forces to present the work of the Aboriginal Australian artist, Sally Gabori, while Luxembourg + Co are presenting the work of the contemporary artist, Joe Ray. We have the gallerists Moshe Tabibnia from Milan who have a specific expertise in historical Islamic and European rugs; Shibunkaku from Kyoto who are working with Japanese 20th century art; Francesca Galloway specializes in Mughal miniatures; and Philip Mould is doing a focus on British female artists from the last four centuries. There is a lot of variety and an incredibly broad focus.