- I don't think I've used my bathroom indoors
since living here.
I basically exclusively shower and bath outside.
It also fits two people, which is fun.
[dynamic music]
Hi, Vogue.
I'm Alex Tieghi Walker.
I'm a curator.
This is my home in Los Angeles.
My studio works with a number of artists
all with very non-conventional art backgrounds.
Every object in this home is a one-off piece.
Today, I'm gonna show you some of my favorite things.
This is the first piece I'd like to talk about.
[jaunty music]
This is light by my friend, Stefan White, and it is weird.
People walk in and they're sort of like,
what is that weird octopus spidery thing
hanging from the ceiling?
It's funny, I'm normally so anti-plastic in my house.
Everything here is wood, natural.
It's cotton, it's wool.
But it's all reclaimed plastic.
I love that.
There's a sort of informality
to the way that objects sit.
And people can come into the space,
and fiddle around, and move, and touch.
And even when I do shows,
that's sort of how I want people to engage with work.
And I think this light really sums it up.
[upbeat music]
This is my sunroom.
When I moved in here, there was not a single plant,
which seems like such a waste of a room.
I've spent the past couple of years
growing all kinds of things in here.
Part of the joy of living in Los Angeles
is this sort of like indoor outdoor life.
This is a mural of plants and flowers
by a painter called Patricia Peco.
Also known as Pata Peco.
Who's from Argentina.
The first murals she painted
were in her home when she just moved in
and had run out of paper to draw on.
So she just used the walls of her house as a giant canvas.
Watching her at work was kind of amazing
because she uses oil pastels, crayons, pencils, watercolor.
None of these paints are intended for murals.
So I don't know how long this will last.
So there's also this sort of
sense of semi permanence about it.
It's actually only half finished.
But I sort of like it in this state
where it feels unfinished,
but at the same time, it also feels very complete.
[upbeat music]
This is one of the newest pieces in my home.
It's by a Canadian artist called Jeff Martin.
It's a cabinet made of ceramic tiles,
almost like a patchwork quilt.
The way that Jeff put this piece together,
sort of passing these slabs of clay
through what looks like a pasta machine
to get these incredible textured works.
There's something so expressive and intuitive about the work
that a lot of the artists I'm working with are doing.
And that leads to objects that have a lot more depth
and story, and really do feel like one-offs.
And it's also my secret safe for things I love.
[gentle music]
One of my most cherished objects, I actually wear every day,
which is this ring.
The ring is from a small little shop
in Venice called Paropamiso.
It's a memento mori, so it's in the shape of a skull.
And it's a micro mosaic from the 1800s.
So made of Murano glass,
where they would create a composition,
and then put it through a machine
that essentially sort of turned it into a miniature.
It feels very Venetian,
the whole experience of finding this guy.
You're in this sort of labyrinthian city
with these tight alleyways.
And this is one of those shops
where truly you would blink and miss it.
And you go in there, and it's just him and his wife,
with trays and trays and cabinets just full of these rings.
And every single one of them is a real curiosity.
This light by my friend Minjae Kim
was actually one of the first things I bought for myself.
At the time I definitely couldn't afford it.
I love the way that it turns on.
Minjae's background is in architecture.
And he started making objects
while still practicing as an architect.
He's super experimental.
He was working in his little basement in Brooklyn.
I remember the first time I went to visit him,
he was just down there in this tiny little room
with no windows, with sort of like toxic plaster
and fiberglass fumes in the air.
And I was like, Minjae mate,
you've gotta at some point move studio
because you can't be cooped up down here.
But the stuff that came out of that basement
at the time he was working there was really cool,
including this light.
The whole light is essentially one giant
open electricity circuit.
And again, just, it really invites you
into sort of play with it and sort of see how it works.
He called it the Oyster Lamp.
Kind of entirely nonfunctional as a light
because it doesn't give out much,
but incredibly beautiful as an object.
This is my treasure chest.
I have hundreds of plates, and mezcal cups, and mugs,
and glasses because I host so much.
And I always get people to sort of, while I'm busy cooking,
get people to come and sort of pick plates.
And I get really excited when people pull
some of these plates, which are
from an organization in Oakland called Creative Growth.
Creative Growth is an organization
founded in the '70s with the belief
that people with disabilities can express themselves
through art in ways that they can't otherwise.
So the organization provides studio space,
gallery representation for artists
working across mediums, from metal, to wood,
to textiles, to ceramics.
They're so magical.
This is by an artist called Kim Clark,
who is very obsessed with celebrity culture.
I wish I'd got more than just the one,
but here I am a Sean Penn.
They're just wacky.
Look at this solar system.
And they just make me really happy
to see these out on the table with people enjoying them.
This stained glass window is one of my favorite things
in the house that I actually didn't bring in.
It was here already.
In keeping with all the handmade stuff,
this is the OG handmade piece.
When I first moved in, I wasn't so keen on it,
and I nearly covered it up.
But now it's truly one of my favorite things.
This house was built in the '60s,
or rather it was extended in the '60s by a hippie
who actually built the entire thing himself.
And this is sort of like one of
the last remaining parts of that hippie house.
I love how the light at different times in the year
projects through the window,
beams ultramarine blue and fluorescent yellow
back in the kitchen.
Some of the stained glass sort of hovers around this area.
It's kind kind of magical.
This is my little bedroom.
One of the smallest rooms in the house,
which I kind of love.
When I travel, textiles are sort of
the thing that I like to buy.
You can really learn a lot about the history, culture,
ecology, society of a place through its textiles.
Even in this one hat, you're seeing indigenous dyes used,
so you can learn about the ecology of the Andes.
But you're also seeing their manufacturing processes
because of the way that it's been woven.
This is a traditional chullo,
or an Andean mountain hat made of either alpaca or llama,
which I bought when I was, I think about 18.
I was living in Argentina and my mom came to visit.
And we did a giant road trip from Buenos Aires
all the way up to Salta in the north, in the Andes.
The guy who sold it to me thinks it's from the 1950s,
'cause it's all naturally died.
So you've got the sort of different shades
of cochineal beetle, the sort of greens and yellows
coming from different Andean barks.
My mother died about eight years ago
and it's something that reminds me of her.
Whenever I move house, even when I went to university,
this hat is always the one thing that comes with me
in my rucksack, rather than with the rest of my cases.
And it's always the first thing I put up in a house.
And it's always next to my bed.
[upbeat music]
This is one of my favorite places on the entire property.
It's my bathtub that faces directly west.
I don't think I've used my bathroom indoors
since living here.
I basically exclusively shower and bath outside.
This is kind of a guilt-free bath
because when I drain the water it waters the garden.
You get this beautiful sunlight in the evenings.
And at night it's really magical
'cause you can sort of see all the houses
in the hills in the distance.
This courtyard really does feel like
a sort of little lush jungle.
You've got the shade of the guava tree.
You've got these ferns and this creeping plant.
My friend Allison made this piece for above the bath,
out of leftover concrete and sand.
It also fits two people, which is fun.
[upbeat music]
This house and all the things in it mean the world to me.
Thank you for letting me show you around.
Right, dinner party time.