I ARRIVE AT a warehouse in North London. A tall metallic gate slowly slides open to reveal a courtyard of startlingly life-like sculptures, and beyond that, a studio where men and women are welding wire figures. The hum of the studio is somehow mellowing, each apprentice working quietly, with what seems like intense concentration. It surprises me that abuzz with such productivity the space still manages to take in the stillness of the humid summer day. A young man approaches, and I tell him I’m here to meet the artist. Antony Gormley comes out of his drawing studio in a brown apron and greets ...
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