In LA, the Other Art Fair Is a Commercial Platform and a Community Hub

It’s not the art fair; it’s Los Angeles’s Other Art Fair, which is so named because it often coincides with bigger fairs like Frieze. Earlier this year, the spring edition of the Other Art Fair L.A. was staged at a warehouse in Atwater Village. But this past weekend, in its second West Coast iteration for 2025, it occupied Barker Hangar in Santa Monica. Organizers of the fair are happy to report that it set a new record for the L.A. edition: the second-highest sales in the history of the fair, trailing this year’s spring edition in Chicago. Sales were up 94 percent over September 2024 and up 52 percent over September 2023, and 95 percent of exhibitors made at least one sale. (The top 10 selling artists saw an average profit margin of 88 percent.)

With shows in London, Brooklyn, Chicago, Dallas and a number of cities in Australia, the Other Art Fair posts an open call online, with no fee to apply. Artists upload four artworks and background material, which is reviewed by a rotating selection committee comprising artists, dealers and sometimes nonprofit personnel. Of the 150 artists that participated in the most recent edition, about half come from L.A., the other half from around the world. They can rent a booth for as little as $2,250, which affords artists two spotlights, a nameboard, 20 complimentary VIP tickets and discounted tickets to the fair, plus three pre-fair 60-minute workshops covering operations, marketing and curation.

While art markets in general are seeing a slump, the Other Art Fair has implemented a strategy that seeks wider engagement rather than focusing on a few wealthy buyers to boost numbers. “We’ll have someone walk into the fair and drop $20,000, no big deal. We’re seeing fewer of those, but we’re just trying to get in front of more people, not necessarily art lovers, who are already collecting art,” Saatchi director Nicole Garton tells Observer. “Maybe you have a lower budget to spend on art. But we have amazing and incredible work for $5,000. Some people, their budget is under $500, so we have special curated sections to hit people wherever their entry point is. It means no matter where you’re at, we’ve got something for you.”

It’s easy to assume that, happening in such a heated political environment, current events might be reflected in the show. “Art buyers fall into every political spectrum and issue. It’s a delicate line to walk. If there’s a lot of outspokenness in this direction, does it turn off people?” she says, characterizing the show as politically muted. “You might expect it to be more robust, but I think people are feeling defeated. Rather than ‘fired up,’ I think it’s more like care for each other. So, it’s very gentle.”

The fall iteration of the fair had programming full of art-adjacent activities like a chakra tune-up and an immersive sound bath portal. Visitors could stop by The Karmacy 2.0, where a pill bottle with a note inside might make their day. They could also make another’s, leaving a note for a future “patient.” Exhibitor Alycia Shiann was reading animal guide oracles, artist Mad Watson was painting Aura Portraits. Some sipped tea with Priscilla, who’d read the leaves when they were done, or danced to music by Mariachi Tierra Mía, DJ Phatrick and KCRW’s Dan Wilcox.

“The artists come from whatever background—art school, retired teacher picking up their passion again, self-taught, at the start of their career. We get scientists who are approaching from a technological perspective,” says Garton, noting the organization’s loose definition of art and their recognition of craft. “We have, for many years, seen a rise in textile work and embroidery. We have artists who make paintings out of beads. So, if it’s coming from an artistic place, we’re going to embrace it.”

Artist Sam Tilson, an Angeleno who used to work in the film industry, now earns money as an event photographer. “If I sell something, awesome. But it’s not the end of the world if I don’t,” he told Observer, standing in a booth hung with photos of astronauts alongside an erupting volcano in Iceland. “I’ve been an artist my whole life. It’s the first time having it available for purchase in a gallery setting. I’ve been enjoying it because it’s a way better way to meet people instead of doing social media. Last time, I think I got 50 people to sign up for my email list. Getting people to do that on the internet is hard. So, I really appreciate the in-person aspect. Also, the opportunity to meet curators and people who want to buy art.”

Julie Crone, from Newport Beach, was attending for the second time. A full-time artist, she was thrilled to be asked to hang some of her abstracts made from cut canvas, oil, acrylic and cold wax in the lounge, giving her visibility outside her booth. “It’s a great experience,” she said. “I’ve met people here who I met while I was doing it a couple of years back. It’s like a family.”

With the fires earlier in the year, followed by ongoing ICE roundups since spring, mounting another edition of the fair in L.A. might have been less than optimum. But in the end, Garton and fair participants are thrilled by the results. “It’s so much more emotional than what I feel when I’m at other art fairs,” says Garton. “The artist, it’s all on their face, and they’re so excited to talk to everyone.”

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