Up Our Street
NO. 25 ALEX HEIM
Alex Heim invites us to his family farm in Somerset, where he has transformed the corner of an old stone barn into a painting studio. Returning home after graduating from Central Saint Martins, he has built a practice shaped by the rhythms of the countryside, recent travels and a fascination with the moments between things. Ahead of his new collection for 8 Holland Street, we spent the morning talking about painting, process and finding inspiration close to home.
"My studio is in a relatively derelict barn, but it's perfect for me," Alex says. "I'm exposed to the elements, especially in winter, and I can watch the light change throughout the day. It's the first time I've had my own space to paint. I know where everything is, I know the mess is mine to make. If I leave the door open, the dogs often come and see what I'm up to."
The barn feels exactly as you'd hope: an old trestle table, a worn wooden chair, Persian rugs and empty frames stacked against stone walls. Photographs, magazine cuttings and fragments of imagery are taped up beside unfinished paintings, evidence of an ongoing conversation between his practice.
"I collect old photography books and vintage LIFE magazines. I love the shameless adverts, the photographs, even the texture of the paper. I enjoy looking for comparisons between then and now."
Life on the farm naturally shapes the rhythm of his days.
"My best mornings are very simple. I'll collect eggs from the chickens, let the dogs out, have a coffee and head into the studio, usually to prime or stretch canvases." Music, podcasts about painters and reading all form part of his routine. "I think it's important to get stuck sometimes. It reminds me this is a pursuit where I have control over both the merits and the failures."
While Somerset provides the backdrop, travel provides fresh perspective. Recent trips to Venice and London have left a lasting impression.
"The Michael Armitage show a the Pinault Collection in Venice was heartbreaking and incredibly inspiring. Hurvin Anderson at Tate Britain really affected me too. His paintings are loose and fluid, but the images feel completely still." For Alex, one of painting's greatest privileges is the freedom it offers. "Not financial freedom," he laughs, "but the freedom to live in a way that lets you keep finding new points of reference."
That openness extends to the paintings themselves.
"The best paintings often become something different from the original idea. New narratives appear while I'm working and I usually let them lead me rather than pushing back."
Those evolving ideas underpin the new body of work for 8 Holland Street. Alex has been preoccupied by what he calls "in-between moments” - the quiet spaces between actions, places and journeys.
"Thinking about those moments led me to planes, to liminal time between destinations, and then to the plane itself as an abstract shape. I'm interested in where engineered forms intersect with the natural world." One recent painting, depicting an electricity pylon settled into a landscape, captures that tension. "It's disruptive, but also quite beautiful. It almost looks like a modernist sculpture."
Ideas arrive from everywhere - a conversation, a song, a photograph - and Alex has learnt to trust instinct. "I usually know when I'm onto something worth chasing. I work quickly because I need to exhaust an idea before I really understand it."
Increasingly, writing has become another part of that process. “I am writing quite a lot at the moment and that helps me pinpoint new inspiration and rationalise new ideas. I am seeing painting as more of a tool for my lucidity. It works alongside everything; it is in sync with me and my life. Rather than a driving force it is more of a sustenance that I need. I feel very strange if I don’t paint for too long. I definitely find comfort in knowing that I want to paint for the rest of my life.”
My ideal neighbours would be…
"Maybe someone adjacent to painting, like a writer or musician. Someone with good stories, that I could have a coffee and biscuits with weekly. Maybe Hemingway, or Leonard Cohen? They’d probably both be quite pretentious. Maybe Peggy Guggenheim? That would be cool. You know what, I think my grandparents is the only right answer.”
The house I'd like to live in is…
“If it wasn’t here, an old farmhouse in the French countryside, that I’d restored myself. Undisturbed, and not too far from water. I love London, and Paris and some of the Italian cities but I definitely gravitate towards the countryside."
Tomorrow I will…
"Paint, if I'm lucky. And see some of my mates."
Photography by Henry Roberts
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