“Vic Reeves died about 12 years ago”: Jim Moir on art, birds, and whether Vic and Bob will ever make a comeback

For a generation of British comedy fans, Jim Moir will always be Vic Reeves. Except, these days, Moir is considerably more interested in Jim Moir.

Moir’s alter-ego arrived on television at the dawn of the 90s with a bag of bizarre props, a knack for penning a surreal song and a take on comedy that had more in common with Dadaism than it did the fusty club comedians that preceded him. Soon joining forces with the equally-unlikely star Bob Mortimer, the duo created some of the strangest — and funniest — television Britain has ever produced.

But ask Moir about Vic Reeves now and he'll tell you something rather definitive: “I think Vic Reeves died about 12 years ago. Ran off into the tundra.”

It is a typically mad Vic Reeves answer, even if the comedy creation is now in Moir’s rear view mirror. Long before Big Night Out, Shooting Stars and the weird sketches that made him one of British comedy's most distinctive jokers, Moir was an artist. And having increasingly devoted himself to painting in recent years, he's now enjoying recognition from an entirely different audience — birdwatchers, art collectors and a new wave of fans who have followed him from television into galleries.

Ahead of this year's Art Car Boot Fair in London (at which Moir is planning to sell his wares and do his best barrow boy impression), Shortlist caught up with Moir to talk about his daily painting routine, the art he thinks everyone should see, and whether there is any chance of a reunion with Bob.

Looking back at Moir’s South London pub memories and New Romantic nights out, there’s even a tease as to what the bequiffed Reeves would be up to these days. Should he ever be found alive, that is…

Shortlist: There’s a great variety to your art work, with pieces ranging from traditional paintings of birds to much stranger surreal pieces. What drives that variety in you?

Jim ‘Vic Reeves’ Moir: Well, I have too many thoughts crammed into my tiny brain, so I turn on the syphon and they come out. I don't, quite often, know what's going to turn up. I generally go out bird watching every day, so you're going to see plenty of bird pictures. Other days I might have other ideas. Today, for instance, I'm doing industrial scenes just because I'm getting a kick out of painting clouds and smog and horrible sort of old dirty factories.

SL: Is that part of a series you're working on now?

JM: Yeah — I'm doing about 30 small paintings on one big piece of paper using carbon ink. So at the moment, I've just done 90 of them. So it looks like a series, doesn't it?

SL: Yeah, absolutely like a series! Do you have a favoured technique? Are there preferred materials you work with?

JM: It used to be oils, and then it was acrylic, and then it went back to oils. But I really like using inks at the moment, so it kind of chops and changes. It switches with my mood, and that can change all the time.

SL: Having had a public profile prior to your more recent public-facing art career, do you think people have an expectation of what your art is going to be before they see it?

JM: Well, I don't really know. I mean, I go out bird watching and I meet blokes — usually blokes — who are bird watching as well, and they go, "You're going to go and paint that?”, and I go, "Yeah, I will.” They all take photographs and I do the painting. So I've got that little crowd. I've got a comedy crowd who say, "I like your comedy paintings, but I ain't got enough money to buy them, is the only thing”!

Jim Moir (Vic Reeves) Paints a Wood Pigeon in Watercolour | Inside the Studio - YouTube

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It sometimes doesn't work in your favour, because people don't like you to be… I'm not going to say “good”, but I will — good at two things. People go, “Well, no, you can't do that. Stick with the comedy”. So, even though I did painting before I did comedy, and comedy was kind of an extension of that, people have an expectation and make their own decision. So I think it's up to them. I mean, I make a living out of it, and that's all I'm interested in!

SL: I am one of those people who have never bought art before, but I bought one of your Chris Palmer paintings, and it's the one thing I say to my girlfriend: if the flat burns down, that's the only thing we grab.

JM: You're in that category. You're not in the bird category!

SL: You've talked about having notebooks around the house, painting virtually every day. What's a normal day in the studio look like?

JM: I get up about half five, six, start working, and I feel like I'm most lively then. I'm an early bird, so I get most of me work done first thing in the morning. Then grab lunch, and then go out bird watching. It's a simple life, but I like it.

SL: Do you do paint on location as well, or is it always back at the studio?

JM: No, I do. What I tend to do is take photographs if I see a scene that I like, and then go back and work it up from the photographs. But I do sometimes go out and do it en plein air. I've done experiments painting outside as well, like where I've painted a scene and then hidden it, or pinned it to the back of a tree and then gone back a month later seeing how it's faring, things like that.

That's quite good fun, but that came from a friend of mine, Colin Self, who was one of the first pop artists — he's got a broad Norfolk accent, so I'll try and do it. But he says, “I knocked on this old lady's door and said, ‘Do you mind if I stash all my paintings under your bush?’” She just went and hid his bits under a bush, and then returned to him the next day!

And I love that about artists who go out and paint outside. So you know, you never know! You might go and have a look under a bush and find some works of art under there.

SL: What would you say to someone, then, who comes from your comedy, and you represent like a gateway to an art world that they've not experienced before? Where would you say they should go next?

JM: I used to spend all my time in the library looking at art books, but now I suppose you just do it online. But you can follow a theme, find something you like, and then go surfing, which is what I do all the time. Like I say, I used to be in the library, and that'd lead me off onto one direction — I was really into German Expressionism when I was at art school and stuff like that. So that was just from looking at American Expressionism and then working out what it was I liked. So you surf around.

SL: What are your memories of art school?

JM: Being told off and them saying, "What do you think you've got some kind of artistic licence?” And I went, "Yeah, I have!”

Another one was, "Can you paint something which is in bad taste?” And I said, "Well, not really, because if it's bad taste, it might be good taste to someone else, and that makes it objective.”

So I was stroppy — I spent most of my extra time there working, using equipment and doing it myself, really, rather than listening to lectures.

SL: Did you enjoy it? Do you think it helped you?

JM: Oh yeah — you learn the basics of drawing and perspective and things like that. So you take away stuff like that, and then you go and sort of forget about it.

SL: ‘Jim Moir as an artist’ is kind of a second coming for you, and I wonder what you would say to someone who's maybe in their 40s, 50s, 60s, looking to take a different path? Someone who maybe feels like they've missed their chance to do something creative.

JM: Well, you just have to go for it. I mean, that's what I did — I was about 21 and realised I didn't really want to work for anyone ever again. My mum, who's 99 nearly, I saw her the other week and she said, "Are you going to retire?” I said, "I retired when I left school.

SL: That’s a nice way of looking at it.

JM: Yeah, well, you’ve just got to. You take a chance. You just mess about and see if it works. And if it works, leave what you're doing and go and do that. But I would always say do what you want to do, because if you do what you want to do, you're going to do it well. That's the crux of it. If you like fiddling about with cars, then go off and do that. You know, it’s the same thing.

SL: Beyond your painting and your comedy, do you have any other creative outlets you're passionate about?

JM: What else is there? Well, I'm writing a new book, which is a bird book, actually. I mean, it's all the art. I sculpt. I do mainly fine art. Really, I don't know what else there is. There probably is something, but I can't think of it right now…

I used to be in a band when I was in my teens. I played bass in bands — I started off on drums actually, but I could only play them in the garage on a Saturday. I learned I could play the snare drum on my bed, so I learned how to do drum rolls. But it wasn't fulfilling enough, so I swapped that for a guitar. I couldn't be bothered playing six strings, so I just played four, and that's why I'm a bass player.

SL: The upcoming Art Car Boot Fair, Jim — what's going to be your involvement? What can people expect to pick up if they come and visit?

JM: I think this might be the sixth or seventh Art Car Boot Fair we’ve done — what I've done is loads of paintings of what people want, and you can get them cheap. So I've done landscapes, birds, there's some comedy paintings in there, stuff that I know people are going to want. And there was a massive big queue at my stall last year, which was good — when I've been before, there've been big queues for Peter Blake and Tracy Emin. Last year, I thought, “Yeah, I've arrived”.

SL: Are you feeling more recognition as an artist now?

JM: Yes, I think people are kind of accepting that or understanding it. I mean, I still get people shouting "Vic, Vic, Vic" in the street. But there's a lot of people going, “Jim. I really like your artwork. I like your paintings”. I actually get that a lot more all the time, so that's good. I've landed on that planet, and I'm really looking forward to the Art Car Boot Fair — you get a really good feeling out of it because, you know, you're like a barrow boy. You're selling stuff off a car, earning your bread and butter from flogging stuff to people.

SL: Do you like the interaction? Do you have to be a wheeler-dealer, or is it a bit more refined than that?

JM: My art agent is an ex auctioneer, so he's really good at doing that. And my daughter's really good at flogging stuff, so I kind of sit in the background and say, "Oh yeah, I'll sign that. I'll do a photo”. If people want to talk to me about it, I'll go and chat to them. So you spend all day chatting to people usually about techniques, and what paintings mean and things like that. Maybe I should have been selling fruit and veg off a wagon or something because I like it.

SL: Vic Reeves' Big Night Out regularly featured your drawings. Do you have a favourite piece from that time?

When we did The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer, we used to have a Reeves and Mortimer product on great big boards. When everyone else was off having their lunch, I'd be painting the boards. I’d do the sketches at home, bring them in, and then paint them with black paint. And I do remember ‘Walk Me Home Cheddar’. I enjoyed that. ‘Licky Kicky’, which was just an extending dog leg with razor blades and knives on it, which could chop the legs off of robbers and burglars.

But ‘Walk Me Home Cheddar’ was a big piece of cheddar that would walk your girlfriend home if you were too drunk. And I said to Bob, "Look, there's your girlfriend, (who's Sharon from EastEnders), being walked home by the cheddar”. And then after that, it went in all the papers, in the tabloids, saying that Bob was going out with Sharon from EastEnders. So they decided that from seeing a drawing that I made of her being walked home by a lump of cheddar!

SL: Were those pieces then on the shows were they purely yours or collaborative?

JM: No, they were all mine. I used to do everything. I used to draw ‘The Man with the Stick’ helmet and everything. Any bit of art was all my stuff.

SL: Do you know what happened to all of it? Is that in a lockup somewhere?

JM: No, I would imagine it got either burned or pilfered when it went into the skip around the back of the BBC.

SL: There will be a ‘100 Year Jim Moir Retrospective’ when it gets found somewhere, sat in someone's loft for decades, that's what we're looking forward to.

JM: Yeah, might be somewhere.

SL: It goes without saying there’s a lot of affection for what you did with Bob Mortimer. Do you and Bob still find yourselves coming up with ideas together? Are you formally working on anything?

JM: No, I haven't seen Bob for a while now. He doesn't really go out anywhere, and if he does, he goes out fishing. I ain't seen him for ages. Mind you I don't go out anywhere either…

SL: Is that partnership something that you would like to come back to, or is that chapter closed?

JM: You never know. I never say never. But I’ve kind of moved on to the next stage. I've transformed into a full time artist and I'm really happy doing that. So I stick with what I'm doing. I mean, I'm getting on now. So I can't see any going backwards.

SL: So if Vic Reeves never made another appearance, that would be fine by you?

JM: I think Vic Reeves died about 12 years ago. Ran off into the tundra.

SL: So no big Viking funeral or anything for him?

JM: I think Vic Reeves has just found some shack on the tundra and is trying to set up a hair salon.

SL: Shooting Stars — you recently said it was ‘an antidote to comedy’. Do you think television comedy is still taking risks? What do you make of what's on screen now?

JM: Well, I'm always on the lookout for something that's funny. I don't think anyone's taking risks because I don't think they're allowed to take risks. I think most TV channels are too afraid of a backlash in case something might turn out to be a bit dodgy. I don't know. I don't think anyone's taking any risks, though.

SL: I hate to use the term, but I don't know how better to put it — is ‘cancel culture’ putting people off?

JM: That's what I was trying to aim at. You said it perfectly — I think cancel culture, and also the television channels not being willing to really risk anything.

SL: Is there any comedian out there you see carrying the torch for your brand of surreal comedy?

JM: I don't know. I never watch it!

SL: How about then social media comedians — quick fire TikTok stuff. Do you think there's value in that?

JM: I don't know because I've never seen any of that either! I promise you honestly, I've never seen any of them.

SL: To be fair, Jim, you’re probably saving yourself a lot of hassle. When in London, is there anywhere in terms of pubs or restaurants or music venues you like to poke your head into. Or areas even?

JM: I used to live in Brixton in 1979, so I’d be going out to music venues. I'd go to the Moonlight Club [in West Hampstead - ed.] to see Joy Division.

That’s probably no longer open, and Joy Division aren’t around! I mean, I left London in 1995. I don't go to gigs much at all now because I'm half deaf. I like going to restaurants if I can sit outside because I can't take the cacophony indoors. So if I'm going anywhere, I go to somewhere around Coal Drops Yard. I like Caravan, I like sitting outside there.

I love London pubs. What I don't like is the upstairs and downstairs toilets. That's the thing about London pubs. I really love a London pub. I love that, did you know, they were painted brown, cream, and red to represent beer, wine, and red wine?

SL: I did not know that! Is that a fact?

JM: Yeah, that's a fact. And also, it's the same colours you get in theatres because they would represent the same thing.

SL: See, when I ask you if that's a fact, I'm just wondering, is this a ‘Shooting Stars fact’ or is this a true fact…

JM: No it’s true! I've got loads of false, fake facts, but this is a true one.

SL: And if you could spend one evening in 1980s London again, where would you go and what would you do?

JM: I'd go back to my old flat in Brixton and go to the George Canning [in Camberwell .ed] with me mates, have a couple, and then shoot off up to ‘Le Beat Route’, which was an old New Romantics club on a Friday night.

SL: Were you a New Romantic, Jim?

JM: Yeah, pretty much. We used to get them all round our house. We had Boy George, before he was famous — there were a lot of them. They all used to come round to our gaff. Yeah, I’m ex-Punk, ex-New Romantic, and then I went off in a kind of industrial way.

SL: That is the movement of music through the 80s and early 90s, I suppose then, isn't it really?

JM: Yeah, that's it.

SL: All right, Jim. One more question and we’ll let you go. Big Night Out first kicked off back at the Goldsmiths Tavern in New Cross. When was the last time you were there?

JM: I think it must have been about 10 years ago — it’s turned into a kind of pizzeria. When I was there, it was a gay pub — Lily Savage was on early on, and then he'd move out, and his crowds move out, and then I'd go in with all my rubbish, carrying in all my props, and my gang would turn up. It was really Hogarthian and kind of rough, but really good fun.

SL: At Shortlist we’re really fond of that area. We tend to go back to some of those pubs nearby like the Marquis of Granby…

JM: That's still a dark place, I think! I went there about eight years ago. Still, it looks like it hasn't changed much in there!

SL: Do you ever miss those early days? That sense of coming up?

JM: Yeah — I mean, there was a sense of vibrancy and urgency and all that stuff. It wasn't really, ‘I want to be famous’. It was like ‘I've got a new idea — let's see what if this works’. I think the attitude that is around now is like, ‘Let’s see how famous I can get, how quickly I can get into a stadium’. For me it was ‘Let's see if anyone can accept this idea’!

I still work like that anyway. Let's have a crack at something new — not do it ‘cos you think you're going to make it with it. It was really good times, it changed every week, there was a lot going on.

But the Art Car Boot Fair is what I'm working towards now. And I've got four exhibitions around the country at the moment, and they're all coming to an end. So go to the Art Car Boot Fair, go and have a look at that!

The Art Car Boot Fair takes place on September 5th at Coal Drops Yard, with tickets starting at £5. For more on Jim Moir's art and upcoming exhibitions, visit JimMoir.com.