London Victorian House Artfully Updated by Sculptor Alex Chinneck

Some people renovate a Victorian house the way you’d restore a classic car: careful, reverent, and with a soft cloth that probably has its own storage box.
Alex Chinneck is not those people. He’s a sculptor known for making buildings do uncanny things in publicwarp, slide, bend, and generally behave like
architecture has had one espresso too many. So when he and his partner, fashion designer Lu Flux, took on an 1890s brick Victorian in East London,
the big question wasn’t, “Will it be tasteful?” It was, “Will the house remain in the same dimensional plane?”

Good news: the home stayed upright. Better news: it became a masterclass in how to update a London Victorian without sanding off its personality.
This is an artful renovation that treats the original bones (moldings, fireplaces, generous ceiling heights) like the headline actand then brings in
salvaged materials, bold paint, and delightful oddities as the opening band that accidentally steals the show.

Why This Victorian Renovation Hits Different

Victorian houses have a reputation: gorgeous details, dramatic proportions, and layouts that can feel like a polite maze. When done poorly, “updating” one
can mean flattening the charm into a beige open-plan rectangle with recessed lights that whisper, “I’m here to erase history.” Chinneck’s approach is the
opposite. He leans into the Victorian-nessthen adds color, texture, and reclaimed pieces so the house feels collected rather than “decorated.”

Think of it as a conversation between eras. The 1890s bring the high ceilings, original fireplaces, and ornate trim. The present day brings a more playful
palette, a kitchen that actually functions, and a sustainable streak of reuse that’s both practical and poetic. The result is a family home that feels
lived-in, not stagedlike it’s been telling stories for a century and recently learned a few new jokes.

The Setting: An 1890s Brick Victorian in Forest Gate

The home sits in Forest Gate, East Londonan area filled with late-Victorian and early 20th-century houses built for generous light, height, and a sense
of ceremony. In houses like this, the ceiling line alone can make you stand up straighter, as if the cornice is judging your posture.

This particular place is big enough to support real life (work studios, family bedrooms, guests) without turning into a storage unit with better window trim.
The renovation focuses on keeping the structure’s character-defining elements while upgrading what truly needed helpespecially kitchens and bathrooms,
where old houses can be charming in theory and chaotic in plumbing reality.

A Room-by-Room Tour of the Artful Updates

The Living Room: Dark Paint, Tall Ceilings, and Zero Apologies

Many homeowners fear dark paint in older rooms, as if navy will immediately summon gloom and Victorian ghosts with opinions about your throw pillows.
But tall ceilings and big windows can handle deep color beautifully. Here, the walls are treated with a confident, modern twist: three-quarter-height
color blocking paired with light paint above, letting the height stay airy while the lower walls feel grounded and dramatic.

The original moldings and marble fireplaces stay as anchorsproof that the room doesn’t need to be “modernized” so much as “reintroduced to itself.”
A salvaged cast-iron chandelier (rewired for modern use) adds sculptural weight overhead, turning the ceiling into a gallery rather than a blank cap.

The Dining Room: Church Pews, but Make It Flooring

If you want to understand this home’s personality, start with the floor. In the dining room, the pitched pine surface was created from the backrests of
old church pewshundreds of pieces repurposed into something both intricate and warm. It’s the kind of detail that reads as “craft” up close and “cozy”
from across the room.

The palette here leans greenfresh enough to feel current, muted enough to respect the period bones. The mix of old and “found” continues with seating and
lighting that feel like they came from stories, not showrooms. The dining room becomes a place where dinner can be casual, but the room still dresses up.

The Kitchen: Modern Function, Victorian Soul, and Pink Plaster Confidence

Kitchens are where many historic-home renovations either soar or quietly break the homeowner’s spirit. This one is a full makeover that still looks like it
belongs. Walnut cabinetry and stone counters keep the mood rich and tactile. Exposed brick adds texture without pretending the house was ever meant to be a
sleek white box.

Then comes the signature Chinneck move: color and salvage used with a sculptor’s eye. A restored sky-blue Aga sits into an exposed brick chimney breast
like it was always meant to be there. Walls are left as exposed pink plaster and sealedproof that “finished” can mean more than “painted.”
Copper pendant lights rescued from a local pub bring warmth and a wink of London history right over the work surface.

Even the doorway paneling gets a second lifesalvaged from a nursery school art room. It’s a perfect metaphor for this whole renovation:
the house isn’t trying to look “new.” It’s trying to look loved, layered, and intelligently reassembled.

The Hallway and Staircase: The Victorian Backbone, Restored

Victorian hallways often set the tone: they’re transitional spaces, yes, but they also announce the house’s craftsmanship. Here, the stair restoration
keeps the original feel while refreshing the surfaces, highlighting the difference between showy preservation and thoughtful care.

The hallway becomes a curated corridor, lined with storage pieces that feel collected over time. One standout is an antique archway salvaged from a church
conservatoryan architectural fragment repurposed as a threshold, turning an everyday passage into a moment.

Bedrooms and Studios: Light, Calm, and Quietly Quirky

Upstairs, the design softens. White-painted floors and restrained walls create breathing room around antique chests, vintage radiators, and iron-and-brass
bedsteads. This is the “artfully updated” part that matters: when a home is full of objects with history, the background needs to know when to stop talking.

Workspaces are integrated, not tucked away as an afterthought. A desk under the eaves benefits from a skylight, and an attic office embraces function with a
simple idea: make the work surface massive enough that clutter feels lazy. It’s both practical and slightly funnylike the desk is gently bullying you into
being organized.

Bathrooms: Old Storage, New Performance

Bathrooms are rebuilt for modern life while keeping select Victorian elementslike cabinetryso they don’t feel like hotel suites that accidentally landed in
a period house. Exposed brick appears again for warmth and texture, and the fixtures mix old-school references (like a high-tank toilet style) with modern
usability.

The details are where the sculptor’s instincts show: a sink cast into the bath, bold marble patterning, and glass that turns the shower into a display
rather than a hidden box. In another bath, more reclaimed church pew material becomes wainscotingproof that the “reuse” theme isn’t a one-off stunt,
it’s a consistent design language.

Design Analysis: The Principles Behind the Playfulness

1) Let the house keep its “character-defining features”

The most successful historic renovations identify what makes the home itselfthen protect those elements. In a Victorian, that often means fireplaces,
staircases, millwork, ceiling heights, and the proportions of rooms. When those anchors stay intact, you can take more risks elsewhere (color, art, salvage)
without the house feeling confused.

2) Use bold color in a way that respects Victorian proportions

Deep paint works when the architecture can carry it. High ceilings and large windows balance saturation, and color blocking can keep walls from feeling like
a single heavy slab. Chinneck’s scheme proves that “period” doesn’t require “pale,” and drama doesn’t require darkness.

3) Treat reclaimed materials like heirlooms-in-training

Salvage is often used as a token accentone reclaimed beam, one antique door. Here, it’s structural to the mood: church pews become floors and wall detailing,
a conservatory arch becomes a hallway focal point, and pub lights become kitchen jewelry. Reclaimed pieces don’t just decorate the house; they give it a
timeline you can feel.

4) Keep modern upgrades honest (and quietly integrated)

The goal isn’t to cosplay 1890. It’s to live well in a historic envelope. That means modern wiring, safe lighting, functional kitchens, and bathrooms that
don’t require a personal relationship with your plumber. When upgrades are integrated thoughtfully, they support the house’s story rather than interrupt it.

How to Steal This Look Without Buying Eight Bedrooms in London

Start with one “big gesture” per room

In the living room, it’s the bold wall color and the preserved trim. In the dining room, it’s the reclaimed-wood floor story (you can scale that down to a
reclaimed tabletop, shelving, or a single feature wall). In the kitchen, it’s the combination of natural materials and one unexpected color moment.

Shop salvage like you’re casting a film

Salvage yards and architectural reclaim shops are full of pieces with strong personalities. Bring measurements, patience, and a plan for how a piece will
be used (not just admired). Aim for items that replace a functional part of the houselighting, doors, hardware, built-insso the “found object” also
earns its keep.

Mix antiques with modern restraint

The trick to an eclectic Victorian interior is not buying “matching sets.” Use antiques for texture and history, then add modern pieces for comfort,
scale, and simplicity. If everything is ornate, nothing is. Let one or two pieces be the scene-stealers; the rest should support the composition.

Experiences You’ll Recognize If You’ve Ever Updated a Victorian House in London (or Tried)

Even if you’re only touring homes like this, Victorian renovations come with a familiar set of experiencesequal parts romance, reality, and the occasional
moment where you whisper, “Who thought this hallway needed three doors and a mystery cupboard?”

First, there’s the instant physical sensation of volume. Victorian rooms can feel taller than your confidence. Sound behaves differently: footsteps on old
timber have a soft drumbeat, conversations bounce off high ceilings, and a single chair scrape can echo like it’s auditioning for a haunted-house soundtrack.
When you add bold paintnavy, green, or anything deliciously saturatedyou feel the room “come down” a bit, becoming cozier without losing the grandeur.
That’s the magic of proportion: big rooms can carry big color without flinching.

Then comes the sensory experience of materials. Exposed brick is never just “brick.” In a kitchen, it reads as warmth and history; in a bathroom, it feels
like a deliberate refusal to make everything glossy and perfect. Reclaimed wood is the same way: it’s not only sustainable, it’s expressive. You see the
marks, the grain, the oddities that prove it lived a previous life. When reclaimed pieces are used repeatedlyflooring here, wainscoting thereyou start
to notice a satisfying continuity, like the house is speaking in a consistent accent.

Anyone who’s tried to source vintage pieces in London will recognize the emotional arc of salvage shopping: optimism, disbelief, triumph, and mild back pain.
You find something incredible (an old light fixture, a set of doors, a radiator), and your brain immediately runs two programs at once:
“This is perfect” and “How do I get it home without becoming a cautionary tale?” Measuring becomes a lifestyle. You learn to carry a tape measure the way
other people carry lip balm.

And finally, there’s the lived-in, family-home realityespecially in a house that isn’t trying to be a museum. Kids’ stuff appears where you didn’t plan
it. A beautiful room still needs storage. A pristine white wall will eventually meet a muddy hand. The smartest Victorian renovations anticipate that
life will happen and design for it: big tables that can handle projects, durable finishes, and rooms that feel welcoming rather than fragile.

That’s why this particular renovation resonates. It’s not just stylishit’s usable. It proves you can preserve the Victorian features that make the home
special, modernize what needs modernizing, and still leave space for humor, surprise, and the occasional salvaged oddity that makes guests ask,
“Wait…where did this come from?” (The best answer is always: “A church. Obviously.”)

Conclusion

A London Victorian house doesn’t need to be stripped of ornament to feel current. In Alex Chinneck’s Forest Gate home, the update is “artful” because it
respects what the house already isthen builds a new layer of meaning through color, salvage, and craft. The result is eclectic but coherent, playful but
livable, and full of details that reward a second look. It’s the kind of renovation that doesn’t just modernize a home; it gives the home more stories to tell.