Some artists have a sense of architecture, using it in or around their work. I am thinking of Antony Gormley whose casts of his own body are almost always located in relation to a setting – whether a beach, the courtyard of a gallery or the precipitous edges of high buildings. I am thinking too of James Turrell whose light spaces are works of architecture, places in which to contemplate the sky, to watch the sunlight pan slowly around the space. I would cite too Martin Creed whose fugitive sprinters ran approximately along the axis of the Duveen Galleries at Tate Britain in London, framed by them, avoiding visitors as they rushed from one end to the other; and Anish Kapoor for his bulbous walls or his vast ‘trumpet’ – Marsyas – in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern.