God’s Own Junkyard: The neon family that lit up Soho

Tucked away in an unassuming industrial estate in Walthamstow is a buzzing pocket of neon, a gallery called God’s Own Junkyard. The building is packed with over 1,500 neon signs staring back at visitors with their electric blues, greens and pinks. Mountains of knick-knacks are strewn across tables and at the edges of the walls, while refurbished wood and glitter glow from every angle.

“It’s like a neon Narnia,” says Marcus Bracey, 50, the creative director. Marcus and his siblings Matthew and Max are the third of what will soon be four generations to run this gallery. The family’s involvement in neon artistry began in when his grandfather Richard “Dick” Bracey, a Welsh miner, became sick of the dark and began making neon lights in the 1950s, illuminating Soho one sign at a time. The Bracey family is behind many neon signs in Soho, including those at Bar Italia and Windmill Club.

Marcus has memories from as early as nine years old of helping his father Chris replace signs in Soho. “I used to wake up in the early hours of the morning, like three or four in the morning, and put his ladder on top of the van,” he says. “We’d take down these old dirty, grubby purple signs, and then we’d be putting up this beautiful neon sign that we’d drawn and created.”

Many of these signs can be found in God’s Own Junkyard, with dirt from the 1970s still clumped in the corners and behind their plastic cases. Also in the gallery are movie props and lighting decorations the Bracey family made, which are featured in films such as Bladerunner and Batman (The Dark Knight).

“It’s like a roast dinner for your eyes”

Chris came up with the name God’s Own Junkyard, inspired by architect Peter Blake, who criticised America’s transformation into a commercialised asphalt jungle in his book “God’s Own Junkyard“. “My dad, the master, the godfather of neon, read the book and thought, ‘Blimey, if God had a junkyard, it would look like this’,” says Marcus, gesturing at the walls.

It is, in fact, an all-consuming junkyard, piled high with statues of Jesus holding neon guns, the Statue of Liberty dangling the word “sex” from her torch and risqué female forms screaming in pink from the walls. The velvety lights and the 1990s and 2000s rock blasting in the background are almost intoxicating, making you forget you are at an industrial estate in sleepy Walthamstow.

“It’s like a neon Narnia“

The gallery is an easy destination for the solo visitor, with an open entrance allowing individuals to wander in and out at their own pace. Marcus says he sees many people come by themselves to bask in the neon wonderland. “We get regulars coming in for coffee,” he says, referring to their in-house business Rolling Scones Café & Bar. “They nip in to get a takeaway and end up walking around for another half hour.”

When Marcus is in, you can ask him about any sign in the building and he could tell you its history. “I hope they get that feeling, that sort of buzz. I hope it gives them vision, and ideas, and creative knowledge to see what you can do and how you can mix it up,” says Marcus. “It’s like a roast dinner for your eyes, the ultimate roast dinner.”

God’s Own Junkyard is free to attend. You can learn more about the gallery here.

If you enjoyed God’s Own Junkyard, you might also enjoy Little Nan’s Bar.