I have to admit that growing up I was never really interested in art  galleries. I was the kid who got bored with the sterile environment and was always been told to “Shhhhh....stop running”. As an adult, things got even worse. At the Louvre in Paris my shameful secrete was that I was more interested  in the building with its marble floors and vaulted ceilings, and at the Tate Modern I had a number of “But the Emperor’s Naked – that looks like sculptured metal poo” moments.