Will Marshall of texture, one of Manchester’s youngest independent galleries, diarises his weekend at Manchester Art Fair 2025.
Thursday
7pm After a day of getting everything ready, documents printed and the van loaded, I arrive at the venue to unload the work, and the mad rush and deep regret at not bringing a trolley.
Friday
6am Arise full of energy, ready to roll. I have visited the fair for years but never participated. I didn’t really know what to expect, whether works would actually sell, or if it was more of a networking experience. Art fairs are odd environments, overstimulating and inherently a really bad way of viewing art.
8am Arrive at the fair and begin installing. As everyone began to become fully awake, it was nice to start meeting the people around me in neighbouring booths, it had a communal atmosphere, people borrowing ladders and chatting as we unwrapped works and began hanging.
10am My friend Chris Alton arrives, and we get installing the texture blue curtain onto which we hung paintings.
2pm We finish hanging and head off to make two wall labels that were missing, and then get changed and ready. I’m happy that it feels like an exhibition, not just a booth. We are showing works by Errol Theunissen, Candice Dehnavi and Craig Coulthard, a restaging of the gallery’s inaugural exhibition in May, bringing our 2025 programme full circle.
3.45pm Arrive back at the fair with some food, and try to gain some semblance of calm after the rush of the day. Now it’s time to get into the headspace of the fair, I spend some time looking at the artworks again, going through in my head the points I want to hit when talking about them.
4.30pm People started milling around. The fair isn’t open, so I’m not sure whether it is fellow exhibitors or some mysterious VIPs. Some of those people turn out to work on behalf of The Manchester Contemporary Art Fund, and they decided to acquire two paintings by Errol Theunissen, which would go into the Manchester Art Gallery collection. ‘Radio’ (2024) depicts a group of children and dogs joyfully dancing to the radio, and ‘Yes, I am certain that the Romans did not lie on their sofas wearing dirty Vans and feasting on pasta!’ (2024) shows a young figure sprawled on the sofa, and as the title suggests they are wearing dirty vans and feasting on pasta.
6pm I am invited to a drinks reception to thank the contributors to the fund and have to give a quick introduction to the gallery and to Errol’s work.
6.30pm Back to the stand. It’s busy, and it involves a lot of juggling people, trying to maintain an awareness of who is in the booth whilst continuing each conversation I’m currently in. We manage to make some exciting sales, and meet some lovely people. I always believed in these works, and love talking about them, but it wasn’t until now that I discovered that other people love them too, and enough to want to buy them.
8.30pm There is a dinner organised by the fair, for gallerists and collectors to mingle. Amazing food, and lovely company.
10pm Head to the pub, to join everyone who was already there. A nice chance to debrief and relax after an intense evening.
2.30am I arrive home questioning the wisdom of staying out this late when I know I have to be on the stand for 10am, but it was worth it.
Saturday
10am I’m back and ready to roll. People pour in again, it’s almost as busy as the Friday – though a little less wine-fuelled. I’m here all day, meeting people and talking about the work. It’s tiring, but I enjoy it, and get into a good flow with it. At some point during the day, Nat Pitt, the Manchester Contemporary Curator, brings round a group of collectors and I talk to them about the works in the booth.
5pm The fair closes for the day, and we head to Paradise Works for their open studios event. It’s a nice evening, but the social batteries flag towards the end, and sleep is needed before the final leg.
Sunday
9.15am I’m at the fair early; I want to change a couple of works in the booth to show some other options. Quite a few of the paintings have sold, so I want to see the reactions for some that I hadn’t hung initially.
10am The fair opens, and the rain-soaked public continue to flow through. I notice more of a reluctance to chat today, people perhaps more wary of a sales pitch. It feels like people want to be left to look. But then perhaps that is partly coming from me; the energy with which I started the fair has maybe started to fade. But I persist and continue to meet some lovely people and talk about the artists.
4pm The fair officially closed, and as soon as visitors have made their way out, the chaos of deinstall begins. Everything needs to be taken off the walls and rewrapped (I rued the unorganised way I unwrapped the work and shoved packaging materials into a messy pile on Friday). Energy levels are dangerously low, but we are nearly there.
7pm With everything offloaded back to the gallery, the weekend is over. Then, after some sleep, leads to follow up and deliveries to arrange, as well as reflecting on the experience and what I might do differently next time. I’m so glad that I was able to support these artists, both with the incredible exposure that the art fair brings and also by putting some money in their pockets. Because no matter what you think of art fairs in general, you can’t argue that artists need to make a living – and selling work is the most effective way to do that.
The Manchester Contemporary is part of Manchester Art Fair, 21–23 November 2025 at Manchester Central.
texture is a independent gallery, opened May 2025 in a small space in Ardwick, South Manchester. It focuses on bringing artists from inside and outside the North West together in a curated programme of exhibitions. It will be reopening in a new space in Spring 2026.
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Published 18.12.2025 by Jazmine Linklater in Explorations
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