At an event that’s all about making money, even Friezes not-for-sale section, the curated Frieze Projects, tends to engage the commercial rationale of the fair, often in provocative ways.

A series of public works and performances that, since the fair’s debut in 2003, has become a vital part of the experience, the projects this year include 11 new commissions as well as a work by the 2008 Cartier Award winner, Wilfredo Prieto. The pieces range from Cory Arcangels Wonka-esque golden ticket project to award a Frieze booth to one of the hundreds of galleries that had unsuccessfully applied (the lucky winner was Milan’s Studiò di Giovanna Simonetta); to Jeppe Heins installation of slowly moving trees at the fair’s entrance; to Norma Jeanes participatory performance considering how recent legislation has rendered smoking an anti-social activity; to Ceal Floyers tables in the fair’s café with all four legs supported by folded beer mats — if the table isn’t steady and you decide to remove one or more beer mat, the café staff will insist on replacing it, even if they have to disturb your meal to do so!

As Frieze was approaching last week, we took the opportunity to ask Neville Wakefield, the curator of the projects and a senior curatorial adviser at P.S.1, a few questions.

Neville, can you explain what the Frieze Projects are for?

Frieze is a market that promotes a particular kind of art, and the projects provide an alternative to that. They respond to the circumstances of the fair, to the way that art is represented at the fair, and to the market situation — and they do so in ways that works shown in the gallery context of the fair can’t. The projects aren’t for sale, and hopefully they provide a critical dialog with the fair itself.

Are the projects entirely independent of the fair’s commercial function?

Yes, essentially. The Frieze Foundation and Frieze Projects are autonomous from the fair. Matthew [Slotover] and Amanda [Sharp], [the fair’s founders and co-directors] oversee every part of Frieze, but effectively, I have free curatorial rein.

Are you financially independent?

Yes. The projects are a not-for-profit endeavor, funded separately by Cartier, Arts Council England, and the European Union. In fact, we’ve just renewed a three-year grant from the E.U.

Have you commissioned artists whose dealers aren’t at the fair?

Yes. There are no restrictions on the artists I can select. There’s no requirement that they have gallery representation at the fair.

What would you say to critics who allege that the projects simply provide entertainment for an art-world clique?

The argument that the projects are just another sideshow at the carnival is a misrepresentation. I think they sometimes engage with the carnival-esque aspect of the market, and in engaging with it, they sometimes mimic it. But that doesn’t mean that they are the same thing. In fact, in the past, some of the projects — such as Richard Prince’s invocation of a high-end used car dealer’s lot — were considered the most uncritical and celebratory at the time.

Yes, despite the fact that his piece was actually critical of the fair’s ethos. In fact a number of the projects seem to question the commercial aspects of Frieze. Are you anti-commerce?

Some of the artists I work with certainly are. Norma Jeane, for example, doesn’t have any commercial representation. He doesn’t sell any work. He exists as an artist outside the commercial realm altogether.

What about you?

No, I’m not. Frieze is a commercial environment, not a museum. But I think that one of the roles of the projects is to engage with some of the more unquestioned commercial aspects of the fair. Whether you find them savory or unsavory probably depends upon the size of your paycheck, but they need to be talked about.

What can you say about the winner of this year’s Cartier Award, Wilfredo Prieto?

The Cartier Award is decided by a panel. I’m a member, so it’s not entirely my decision, although I fully endorse it. Prieto proposed a piece with a red carpet at the entrance to the fair that then runs through the interior, out the back, and up a flagpole. He’s interested in the poetics of the piece rather than any direct political readings, but obviously it speaks to the nation of the rich who tend to gather here. There are a number of ways to interpret the piece: The red carpet is a sort of stairway to heaven, but red is also a color of warning. The piece engages with the cult of celebrity and extreme economic difference. But it doesn’t limit itself to a particular meaning.

Some might regard the commissions as little more than stunts. What makes them art?

Certain gallerists might regard the projects in that way, but I think this is a condition of art in general rather than a condition of the projects in particular. Art has become much more involved in the creation of spectacle and in the production of certain types of event. Artists have to compete with that.

Like Ceal Floyer does, by putting beer mats under the table legs in the café?

Ceal’s is one of those pieces that barely crosses the threshold of visibility, but I was drawn to it because one of the challenges that artists face in creating projects for Frieze is to rise above the cacophony of the market. There are hundreds of artworks in the fair, and you’ve got to compete with that background noise. Ceal’s piece is quintessentially anti-spectacle. It’s conducted away from the limelight, in a café, and it demands a different type of attention than the rest of fair.

Given the current chaos in the financial markets, do you regret selecting any of the works that you have?

No. I hope that none of the work is so specific about the present market environment. Whether it’s a successful market or an unsuccessful market, the art that’s being shown is the same. I think that the Norma Jeane example is a good one: It’s a work that stands outside questions of commerce but still addresses them.