The Frieze Art Fair does not only attract, artists, students, the worlds galletaria and Michael Stipe.
Flies seem also drawn to the contemporary art world. As you wander further behind the tent flaps of contemporary art, the number of flies grows, the white walled cubes turning into airports not only for dust but for Musca domestica. Unfortunately this rendezvous with art seems fatal to the regurgitating flaneur, more and more flies lying dead beneath the artworks. The cause of death could be critical exhaustion or intellectual starvation or perhaps they have died of pleasure, as they have sucumbed to the sublime. I photographed the sad unnoticed litter of their corporeal ghost.
One fly, photographed prior to exit, sat staring out at the horizon of being, considering existence and if art has a purpose beyond investment and the occasional takeaway from a rotting potatoe.