Hurvin Anderson lives and works in the middle of nowhere. His wife, Alice (also his studio manager), has to pick me up from the station because taxis can never find the place. Their Cambridgeshire home, which they share with their three young children, is the kind that “home inspiration” Instagram accounts would eat up. It has a spiral staircase, expansive windows looking out on to endless greenery and a room that is an actual circle. Next door to the large property is Anderson’s equally impressive purpose-built studio on land where an old farm building once sat. “It’s just somewhere to work,” Anderson says in a rather humble manner for an artist once described by the Turner prize judges (he was nominated in 2017) as “an outstanding British painter whose art speaks to our current political moment with questions about identity and belonging”. Anderson used to have a studio in south London but the travelling back and forth became too time-consuming. Still, he has a love-hate relationship with the new one. “It’s a bit too close to home,” he says. “But I’m able to work in longer spells. It was hard getting back from London. It became impractical with the kids.”
