City Hall, Hamilton It seems that almost anything is regarded as collectible nowadays. From Dinky toys to chunks of the former Berlin Wall, there'll be somebody out there who has an obsession for something, no matter how extraordinary.

Similarly almost anything and everything will one day become an antique. Still clinging to that old teddy bear you've had since childhood? Well hang onto it a bit longer, by the time your grandchildren have finished kicking it around the nursery it'll probably be worth a fortune.

This exhibition isn't just about collecting any old tat but `art' and, as far as the National Gallery is concerned, that means primarily painting and sculpture.

That might sound like a bit of a narrow definition but this show in fact does have a broader agenda, giving a fresh twist to that old chestnut that artists -- and non-artists -- have been grappling with ever since Duchamp stuck his initials on a urinal some 80 years ago, namely what exactly constitutes art? In the show's accompanying brochure senior curator Marlee Robinson makes the point that each of the ten collectors here are artists themselves, "for by their actions, thoughts and inspirations they are creating something -- in this case collections of art''.

It's a novel twist but one that stretches the point a bit. Every morning I kick-start the day by pouring a scalding mug of caffeine-loaded brown liquid down my throat. By the simple act of switching on the kettle I am creating something, but it isn't art.

That might seem a bit of flippant point, and Ms Robinson does qualify her argument by stating that the action of creating an object only becomes art when both mind and imagination are involved.

Not much imagination used in making a cup of coffee I grant you but then surely the collectors here relied far more on the depth of their bank balances rather than the scope of their imaginations. How much imagination does it take to go out and pick up ten Picassos? A friend of mine pointed out that the most noticeable thing about this exhibition is that the collections are so diverse. Certainly the series of paintings, photographs and ceramics on display are as eclectic as the people who have put them together but that's no surprise. After all, if art is reflective of the society in which it's created, similarly a collector's taste is going to be influenced by his or her own life experience -- hence the differing tastes.

Although the exhibition is divided into three broad categories -- contemporary, early 20th century and historic -- only one collector crosses the boundaries with selections in more than one category.

It seems that, while each collector shares a passion for art, they have widely differing opinions about what constitutes `good art', be it from an aesthetic or investment perspective.

But while tastes may differ, they don't always have to be predictable.

It is the limited scope of each collection, their predictability, that makes the exhibition a bit of a disappointment -- there are no surprises. It comes as no great shock, for example, to find that Governor Thorold Masefield and his wife Jennifer, who were childhood sweethearts while growing up in Uganda, share a love of African art.

Chesley Trott, the grandfather of Bermuda's current art scene, chooses to patronise younger contemporaries while Tanya Bascome Osewe, who studied fashion at college, has a passion for African textiles.

George Peterich, who's grandfather was a collector living in Rotterdam, is -- you've guessed it -- a specialist in 17th century Dutch painting and Delftware, while former Royal Gazette editor and National Gallery board of trustees chairman David White's two key interests are reflected in William Harrington's `Still Life'.

It would have been much more fun to discover that it was Mr. White rather than Barbara Blades who has `The Watch' -- an enormous nightmarish image by Terry Elkins hanging above his bed.

That said, this is a pretty impressive and diverse collection of work with some stunning exhibits, particularly of Bermudiana, which makes up the bulk of the collection -- again not rather surprisingly.

Ogden Pleissner's `St. George's, Bermuda', Tom Butterfield's favourite Masterworks painting, is perhaps one of the best illustrations of the artist's love affair with the Island.

Mr. Butterfield's collection of vintage photographs are also a delight as is a Reynolds Beale oil submitted by David White.

The National Gallery deserves credit for allowing these very private collections the chance to be viewed by a wider audience.

Just one further gripe. I understand that there are all manner of artistic riches on the Island, from Rembrandts to Renoirs, Picassos to Pipers. Did the National Gallery not bother to approach any other major collectors or was it a case of the big boys not wanting to let their most prized possessions out of their sight? Gareth Finighan Out of Africa : `Market Picture' by Brother Francis is one of the prized possessions of the Governor, Thorold Masefield, and his wife Lady Jennifer Masefield.