A haven lies behind these walls.
Landing at this port of call, you leave run-of-the-mill squalls and storms behind you. Even simple words desert you as time expands and you enter a world where only the gift of sight counts – your eyes drawn first of all by the space between the long brown façade and rectangle of close-cropped lawn planted with sculptures. Only then, stripped, washed clean of everyday concerns, can you cross the threshold and wander from room to room where the works on display resonate within you, or not, and time is abolished. Silence imbues the polished brick as the lighting directs your gaze; artworks dialogue with one another, you come to a halt, take off in a new direction and change course again, your hand itching to sketch an approach as your eyes caress a surface, try to understand the matter of its composition, and are lost in dreams conjured up by no more than a fragment. And then words finally come back to you, as your return journey takes a new route.