Alexander Flux passed away suddenly on 3 November 2007, at the age of only twenty-three. Born on 18 June 1984 and brought up in Street, near Glastonbury, Alex packed an extraordinary number of achievements into his tragically short life: he studied art history at the University of East Anglia, where he showed a particular interest in Victorian art, and then started work as an events manager in Bristol, juggling a busy career and a vibrant social life. A true cosmopolitan, he spoke several languages and loved travel, living and studying in Uppsala for six months while at university. His favourite writers included Samuel Beckett, Salman Rushdie, and Will Self. He enjoyed cinema, particularly Powell and Pressburger, and playing guitar. Of course, he was also a prolific writer, not only for Albion but for other publications as well, producing journalism, short stories, and poetry.
Alex founded the Albion art page, and made his debut with a major feature on architecture for our Winter 2006 edition. He followed this with articles on English pastoral art and on the guerrilla artist Banksy, and numerous thoughtful film and book reviews which testified to his wide range of interests. Alex was an idealist, distressed by social injustice, and an article on poverty in England showed his great gift for empathy. For this winter edition, he was planning a feature on the Norwich school of painters and two book reviews. In total, he contributed twelve articles to Albion.
He was only twenty-one when he began writing for us, and I remember being amazed at his precocity and depth of knowledge. He had a genuine love of art and architecture and remarkable drive. Unfailingly positive and always bubbling over with ideas for articles, he took great pride in the magazine's development and showed a powerful commitment to it, giving unselfishly of his talents for a project he believed in.
Alex was the author of many poems. This one was read at his thanksgiving service:
Time is in Sandcastles
Picking up spadefuls of sand And filling up pockets To make castles with one day Some use fists and sand's escapism Trickles And others pick pebbles one by one On the English beaches only fit For bracing walks in winter And my grandmother's headscarf. Remind me I can't take anything with me And to make my sandcastles Quickly. --Alexander Flux