Ella Fleck at Ehrlich Steinberg

The raised platform in the middle of British artist Ella Fleck's installation vibrates under your feet to the sound of a male voice. He's whispering sweet nothings, intoning sexual fantasies. It's all based on third-party agencies that manage OnlyFans accounts, interacting with users, creating fictional relationships that horny guys spend thousands on. It's a greasy, gross, uncomfortable exploration of sex work on an industrial scale.

Yuli Serfaty at Xxijra Hii

Yuli Serfaty's headless metallic dog sculptures guard this booth, their claws sharp, their heavy teats dragging on the floor. It's a surreal symbol of femininity pushed to an extreme, a body devalued and exploited. A video shows the creature trying to escape the booth, and succeeding. The whole installation looks like HR Giger meets Wolfenstein 3D, but with a nasty, satirical edge.

Rirkrit Tiravanija at David Zwirner

Finally, something to help you get through Frieze. Thai artist Rirkrit Tiravanija's sculpture here is a robotic arm that carefully hands visitors a little red-and-white ibuprofen pill. If you don't reach out, it just drops it on the floor. The robot does its job, over and over, regardless of if you're there to receive it. It feels futile, obscene, repetitive, meaningless. Quite the comment on modern life.

Carolyn Lazard at Trautwein Herleth

It might look like a display of pens, and that's because it is. But each one is a promotional item from a pharmaceutical company, given out as gifts to American medical professionals. Lazzard bought them in estate sales from real doctors. They become a portrait of selling out, of how healthcare in the US can be bought by corporations. There are pens with branding for antidepressants, ADHD meds, Viagra: corporations are keeping you going, keeping you productive. When it clicks, it's an incredibly grim conceptual vision of how our bodies are treated as commodities.

Gray Wielebinski in the toilets

The urinal cakes in the Frieze bogs this year aren't just there to keep whiffs at bay – they're art. This is urinal cake as sculptural intervention, thanks to artist Gray Wielebinski, who has designed each one with a custom scent and encased them in metal cages. They sort of look like little chastity devices, glistening lumps of odorous chemicals for you to wee on. They're weird, almost erotic sculptures. You can hear the anguished cry of thousands of artists wishing they'd thought of it first.

Miriam Cahn at Galerie Jocelyn Wolff

There is such an overwhelming amount of (usually very bland) painting at Frieze that it really takes a special painter to stand out. But Swiss artist Miriam Cahn's installation is a proper diamond among the swill. It's a whole booth filled with 26 years' worth of self-portraiture. Each one plumbs new depths of anxious, monstrous introspection. She grins and screams, stands and falls, all in blurred, messy washes of colour. Psychologically intense, overwrought, emotional stuff.

William-Adolphe Bouguereau at Stair Sainty

My love for 19th-century French academic painter William-Adolphe Bouguereau verges on a sickness. I mean, I have a Bouguereau tattoo. So finding this little gem among the Dutch flower paintings and Egyptian busts of Frieze Masters was a genuine thrill. It's a weird, yellowed little thing – based on a Tintoretto – of a man lying prostrate on the ground. The ropes that bind him have been snapped, wood is splintered. Here is the aftermath of violence, the shocking silence after a traumatic event. This is one of the great things about Masters: getting to spot art historical gold hidden away on the back wall of some booth. This gallery also had a gorgeous James Tissot portrait. It's 19th-century art nerd heaven.

Luce Turnier at Harlesden High Street

There are some amazing narratives to discover in the Frieze Masters spotlight section, especially the work of Haitian modernist Luce Turnier, who lived between Paris and Haiti but has largely been forgotten by art history. This small display of stark portraits – like a more sombre Alice Neel – and vitrines is a little glimpse into a lost period of international modernism from an artist who feels ripe for a museum show.

Camarasaurus supremus skull at David Aaron

You eventually go antiquities and Flemish art blind walking around Frieze Masters, so finding the fossilised dino skulls that David Aaron Gallery has lugged to the tent is always a bit of Jurassic relief. This year they've brought an enormous triceratops skull and an awesome camarasaurus supremus with the tooth of an allosaurus embedded in it. Absolutely brutal, and possibly the only thing my four-year-old would like in either fair.

There's death and fear written into all of Sohrab Hura's paintings here. They're grotesque expressionist scenes of everyday violence: a man kicked to the ground, a crow pecking at a bleeding carcass above a figure staring aghast at a newspaper. It's like Edvard Munch but with way more blood and guts. The painting of the woman in the dust storm isn't good, but the rest are great, angry things.