By Oliver Basciano

Made homeless by gallery Haunch of Venison’s move into its traditional venue in the buildings adjoining the Royal Academy, Zoo Art Fair has holed itself up this year in an expansive network of former industrial buildings in the East End. Moving from west to east wasn’t Zoo’s only hurdle: the market slump has wreaked some havoc among its stalwart innovative mid-market galleries; and to top it all, Frieze announced their Frame section, the big-tent inclusion of galleries who might formerly have looked to Zoo for a venue. It is with satisfaction, then, that this year’s incarnation – which takes the hybrid format of a series of revolving curated exhibitions, together with a market-driven fair and prints section – not only happened but also managed to be critically interesting and economically innovative.

The 21 stands, from a range of emerging galleries and curatorial and artist-led groups, offer the occasional highlight, in particular Riflemaker. Their solo stand of work by Kent-born Juan Fontanive sees the artist mining his kinetic interests, but withstanding the clinical coldness of so much of the medium. Quickness (2009) is a standout example. Encased in a small tarnished metal box is a constantly revolving flip-board of elegantly watercoloured birds: the clatter of the changing imagery reminiscent of constant bird chatter. Not only do we enter a dialogue of mechanics in relation to the constant innovation/evolution of nature, but it is also visually highly engaging.

It is the exhibitions, though, specifically those curated by FormContent, LUX and Studio Voltaire, which most recommend Zoo this year. In a separate building, accessible via an alleyway, four floors are given over to works not directly for sale. LUX are ambitiously changing their display daily under the banner Film as Subversive Art (taken from the title of Amos Vogel’s 1974 collection of essays), and on opening night Ellen Cantor was drawing the crowds. The work by the American artist is such that when put down in cold type, it sounds kind of awful. But it’s not: it’s humorous, shocking and most of all touched by an angry melancholia.
 
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