Melbourne Art Fair

• Paris Lettau

So much of the value is in the marketing, says a softly spoken cognoscente at the entrance to Buku-Larrnggay Mulka (Yirrkala) (in the A5 booth), one of the best marketed art initiatives in this country. It’s busy. I squeeze past Rachel Griffiths. I’m told these Dremel-engraved cross-hatched surfaces will survive oblivion, sold out.

Literally cornering the market though is the prima A1 Anna Schwartz Gallery, which takes prized position at the Fair as if its metropole. Location, location, location. There, Jonny Niesche waves his Titanium American Express. It’s heavier-seeming than the Emily Floyd owls, which fail to take flight amid the hive of Ellwood-activity buzzing around queen bee. Next door is Neon Parc (A2) where slick and sumptuous Dale Franks fill the main wall (we all want one), well-balanced by Nabilah Nordin’s amorphous matte sculptures out front.

When we jokingly inform Roslyn Oxley that her gallery is lower down on the apparent booth hierarchy (coming in at C1), she responds with characteristic wit. “Well, fuck that”.