Famous for his off-kilter drawings, the artist is now appealing for used tennis balls, building useless clocks – and pulping The Da Vinci Code. He tells us why

The first thing I notice about David Shrigley is his balls. Twelve thousand, one hundred and sixty six of them, to be precise, lined up neatly over almost every available inch of the gallery walls. Walking around this room of dazzling yellow is a surprisingly psychedelic experience – the bright lights and recurring patterns play havoc with your brain.

“It’s ended up looking like a piece of op-art,” says Shrigley, who talks almost as if he had no hand in it. “I wasn’t anticipating that.”

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