The studio home of artist George Anderton is a most fascinating place. An unintended showroom of endless arrangements that at once seem random but then curiously edited. The place has such a presense - I don't know whether it's the house itself, the overgrown backyard, the dear occupant or the hundreds of piles, configurations, clusters of haphazard yet oddly focused collections... I feel something here. I don't need to know what it is but it's palpable, and it slows and heightens my senses at the same time.
