The dirty side of the art world isn’t always obvious, but Frieze London is making every effort to scream it in your face. The fair ranges from the dull to the exceptional – as you would expect from any art fair – but the commercial machine seems to bleed through everything. Located in a giant glorified marquee in Regent’s Park, Frieze London in its thirteenth year claims to offer an unrivalled breadth and vision into contemporary art. In many respects it succeeds and given enough patience, the Frieze is quite an experience. Everything is on offer and everyone will be impressed, but the atmosphere is all wrong.

Frieze is particularly oppressive; the art dealers don’t help

Arriving at the exclusive complex, the word’s “Deutsche Bank: Main Sponsor” are splattered left, right and centre. The place is crawling with security and I feel distinctly judged for not wearing a suit or some kind of felt smock. Apart from the odd cluster of art students, the crowd is made up of businessmen and what I assume are art investors. I’m not surprised since a standard ticket is going for an extortionate £35, rising to over £60 if you include Frieze Masters. Who said the art world isn’t accessible? Having cycled over from an early morning lecture, I’m quite keen on dropping my bag in the cloakroom, but with an impressively long queue and charging £5 per item, I think I’ll pass. I talk an exceptionally grumpy security guard into letting me skip the queue, but only press get that lucky; the commoners can wait.

With over 160 exhibitors from 27 countries, I’m quite taken aback by the scale of the Frieze. I try to work my way through reasonably methodically, trying not to miss too much, but it’s not easy. I get that they’re trying to put the whole range on show, but everything feels a little cramped. Thinking of all the great galleries in London, the swarms of people at the Frieze make everything a little claustrophobic. You can enjoy yourself at the Tate and it’s hard not to have a good time at the Serpentine. Yes it gets busy everywhere, but the Frieze is particularly oppressive, and the art dealers don’t help.

I walk past “Truck” by the German artist Birgit Brenner and overhear the exhibitor arguing with a husband and wife over the price of the work. €85,000 the dealer insists; that’s the art world these days he quips. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for art being valued and I don’t find €85,000 so unreasonable, but there is a brutality to witnessing such ruthless negotiation in what should be an enjoyable event. It feels so heartless and it seems to go against so much of what art stands for. Of course I’m an idealist in that sense, but I wish it didn’t have to be like this – a few make their millions and the rest can’t get by.

I’ve put quite a negative spin on the Frieze and yes the elitist air is rather unpleasant, but I’m here for the art. The bulk of the fair is made up of stands from a selection of well-established galleries including the likes of the Gagosian and the White Cube. Their work is unsurprisingly decadent and impressive, but on the whole the display is rather predictable. Walking around, I spot everything from Anish Kapoor to Francis Picabia – contemporary art yes, but nothing new. A number of live works are on display and the fair has commissioned a series of Frieze projects, but the masses of people and the scale of the fair makes it pretty hard to focus. I guess I’ll plan better next year.

The real reason to come to Frieze is for Focus – a selection of thirty or so up-and-coming galleries curated by the Frieze to show the newest, edgiest work. Here the names on the walls aren’t familiar, but everyone knows the next few stars are hanging here somewhere. This is the dealer’s first destination when they get to the fair and I’m pretty sure everything is already sold by the time I get there on day three. Personal favourites include a series of works by Harold Ancart from the New York based gallery CLEARING, but I’ll leave my picks of the Frieze for the next page. Admiring “Waterfall” by Chinese artist Li Jinghu, a staff member from exhibitor Leo Xu Projects can’t help but try and sell me the work. It’s irritating, but I still admire the quality of what’s on show. The reality is that this isn’t a gallery but a commercial event. It’s super interesting and I will definitely go again (if I don’t have to pay £35 for a ticket), but it’s a once a year event.

Turn over for my picks of the Frieze!