Amidst the pomp and splendour, the 20th annual Frieze Art Fair commenced in London yesterday, a pandemonium of vanity dressed up as art appreciation, where the societal elites and moneyed masses gathered to demonstrate their uncanny ability to spend egregious amounts of money on baffling displays of art. The fair grew to prominence thanks to its exquisite blend of fine wine, designer canapes, sharp suits and glaring eccentricities, but this year's infamous "highlight" comes packed with a peculiar side-story following Danish artist Jens Haaning. Frieze's reputation as the event to flaunt one's connoisseurship of complicated, abstract, often impenetrable art reached new heights when Haaning's display stood as a meticulously curated void or as laymen might say - a plain, blank canvas. The artist, renowned for his minimalist approach (one could call itnullism), had previously been entrusted by the Kunsten Museum of Modern Art to recreate two of his earlier artistic triumphs. For this venture, he had been paid an eye-opening sum of 530,000 Danish krone - a stealing deal for a blank canvas, one could argue. Upon unveiling, to say the spectators were taken aback would be an understatement. Reactions varied from confused squints and tilt-headed perusing to those who nodded approvingly, gulped down their champagne and declared it 'profoundly moving'. The tale doesn't end here. Following an almost two-year legal ordeal, the artist now has been ordered to repay the museum. Amidst giggles and whispers in the elite circle, some said it's a bit like being ordered to return the Emperor's new clothes. However, art continues to thrive in its many avatars. During the Fair, Frieze-goers could engage in a plethora of aesthetically riveting activities including sipping overpriced cocktails, trudging on the moonbounce (suitably chic, of course), and trying to figure if a piece is an avant-garde installation or a misplaced drinks table. While some activists protest outside, decrying the display as an elitist haven for wealthy one-percenters, the Frieze Art Fair showed no signs of slowing. The free caviar and looming promise of fraternising with celebrities proved too much of a temptation for many, while others genuinely sought the white cube galleries for actual inspiration. As the Art Fair soldiers on, the crowds will remain eager to see what other spillages of exorbitancy will unfurl. The Frieze isn’t just another art fair; it’s a canny testimony to the human ability to create money... err, beauty. Or controversy? Perhaps 'all of the above'. In a world where an invisible sculpture can rake in over $18,000, a blank canvas seems somewhat reasonably priced. Here's to the power of creative imagination... or the sheer ludicrousness of it. Did someone say 'The Emperor’s New Clothes'? Cheers to art!