NEW YORK—Simple and modest are the adjectives organizers use to describe the PooL Art Fair, which continues through Sunday at the Hotel Chelsea on W. 23rd Street. That description fits the fair, which is running for the fifth time in New York and features some 40-odd artists without gallery representation in 22 rooms.

ARTINFO visited during the first hours of the fair, and though the quality of the work was all over the board, the crowd was sparse, and the artists hadn’t made any transactions yet, the participants were just as laid-back as the atmosphere. A fair like this, many explained, is more about the experience itself than about commerce, and the artists seemed more concerned about making connections with the public and with one another than about scoring sales.

“It’s kind of like college,” said Williamsburg artist Julie Combal, who was showing oil-on-canvas works from her series “The Changing Landscape: Natural Disaster Paintings,” available for $600 to $6,500. “It’s like a dorm of artists.”

Painter and University of Hawaii professor Debra Drexler said she was there for the connections, too. She participated in PooL Miami Beach in December, where she met collectors and artists from all over the world, including a curator from the Queens-based Flux Factory. As a result of that meeting, she’ll participate in the collective’s “Everything Must Go” exhibition in April (the last in its current space). “It’s opened up all kinds of possibilities for me,” said Drexler. “You never know who’s going to walk through the door.”

The bohemian, community feel was heightened by the fact that many artists were sharing hotel rooms, crammed side by side in the small spaces. The largest and liveliest space — as well as the largest spread of artists and mediums — belonged to a group of ten New York–based friends calling themselves Chambre de Commerce, who were at PooL New York for the second time. Chris Twomey, whose work also appears at Art Now, is offering “Triumph of the XX,” a series of mixed-media-on-aluminum works addressing feminine energy and goddess images; the works overflowed from the bathroom, where a large-scale “tree of life” overshadowed the full bathtub, which contained a video projection of a red-haired goddess figure embracing a man. Tucked into a windowsill, the artist duo Liz-n-Val’s tiny, exquisite figurative sculptures perched on picture frames and miniature canvases. Other notable works in the space include Cigdem Tankut’s circular mixed media-sculptures incorporating paper and cloth encased in spray-foam, and Pamela Gordon’s large-scale sculpture paying homage Hotel Chelsea.

The hotel itself, a historic abode for New York creatives, was reason enough for several of the artists to participate in PooL; many, it seemed, are also sleeping in their exhibition spaces. “I’ve always wanted to stay at the Chelsea,” said Justin Brunelle, a painter and former Colorado gallery owner who was offering his ink, watercolor, oil, and pencil works incorporating human faces for $100 to $4,400. He said he was planning on actually creating some new work while at the fair. “It’s too much fun to actually work with the history and the energy here.”

Several blocks away at Bridge, a fair that started in Miami in 2005, debuted in London last October, and is making its first appearance in New York this year (it expands to Berlin in October), the layout was more traditional booth-style and participants were much more focused on sales.

While traffic was light on Friday, gallerists said Thursday’s preview and opening night reception were packed, and they had the red dots to prove it.

“Bridge is always good,” said Jonathan Greene, whose Greene Contemporary is currently based in Sarasota, Fla., but will move to New York’s Lower East Side in September. “We’ve had good crowds, interested buyers and lookers, and good conversation.” Greene, who was participating in Bridge for the fourth time, had already sold several of Brooklyn-based Trong G. Nguyen’s ultrarealistic Styrofoam, oil, and acrylic sculptures of cakes (priced at $3,000 each) and cupcakes ($200 each) decorated with playful sarcastic phrases, and tiny bags containing grains of rice upon which Nguyen had painstakingly handwritten chapters of novels — one word per grain. Those ranged in price from $800 to $1,800, depending on the length of the chapter.