Lorne Jackson meets an art student who’s turned his home into a public gallery for budding artists.

It’s your standard suburban house, with one of those quirky little extras that impress estate agents.

Though, on further consideration, I’m not sure an estate agent would like this renovation.

We’re not talking about freshly grouted tiles in the bathroom, or a gazebo for the garden.

Andre De Jong’s Moseley home has its very own art gallery.

As far as De Jong is concerned, home is where the art is. Which is why, at the end of last year, he converted the front room into a space for enjoying cutting-edge works.

It wasn’t merely done for his own amusement. Exhibitions are held regularly, with viewings open to the public.

The latest exhibition – a video installation by the artist Anne Guest – began this week.

When I arrive at De Jong’s gallery, I’m not sure I’ve come to the right place.

I’m strolling down a row of terrace houses, so traditional they could be tagged onto the end credits of Coronation Street. Cats loll on window ledges and hedgerows rustle in the wind.

I doubt the Louvre has many pet moggies on standby. (Or hedgerows, come to that.)

But I’m definitely in the right place, because here is De Jong, sipping a mug of tea while relaxing on a bench in his front garden.

He welcomes me into his home – sorry, art gallery – and indeed, I could easily have just ambled into the Ikon.

De Jong has turned the front room into a white cube. Even the window has been replaced by a white wall, with a quirky video installation projected onto it.

What on earth possessed him to do it?

“Well, I also happen to be an art student at Birmingham City University,” he says. “And one of the modules was ‘Professional Practice’, which is about getting out into the field.

“So this started as a university project, but it’s exceeded all expectations and proved popular. I’m now on artist number seven or eight, that I’ve exhibited here. I guess you could say that what I’m doing is an aspect of David Cameron’s Big Society.”

As De Jong points out, the art he displays is never conventionally pretty or anodyne.

“You’re not likely to find watercolours and landscapes,” he says. “It’s normally rather challenging, what you’ll encounter here, though not necessarily in an offensive way. But the viewer needs to work at it. It’s not all laid out for you, like in a popular magazine.”

Indeed. What I’m looking at is a video of a tub of Flora margarine. Then the words, “I can’t believe it’s not butter’ flash on the screen.

Next we cut back to the tub, which is opened to reveal a dead bird, encased in ice.

Several more half-humorous, half-horrific images follow. Yet this jarring piece pales when compared to previous works De Jong has exhibited.

There was the live dwarf in pyjamas, for instance, who relaxed for most of the evening in a purpose-built bunk bed.

It was the creation of Gene-George Earle, an artist whom Art Review recently named as a future great.

“The dwarf was living in this little area of the room for the entire evening of the private view,” explains De Jong. “It was interesting. There were various discussions about the ethics of doing it. But having talked to the performer himself, he explained that this is what he makes his living doing.

“He normally does work for corporate events. However, he was certainly challenged by what he had to do in my house.

“Instead of handing out flyers and drinks, he made a concerted effort to get into the experience.”

De Jong, aged37, puts each exhibition on for half a week, with a preview on Wednesday, then the show runs until the following Sunday. There are set times to see the work, and those hoping to view must make an appointment.

But how does De Jong build interest, when he is so far from the major city galleries? He has his own website, Vinyl Art Space, and the internet has proved a valuable tool when it comes to discovering artists and promoting exhibitions.

“Originally the artists came from call-outs I made, and various networks I knew about,” he says.

“That’s how it was for the first few shows, at any rate. Because I was new to the whole thing, I tended to get artists I knew quite well.

“But that’s changing, now the whole thing thrives on contacts made through social networks.

“I still tend to focus on up-and-coming artists, because I started this place with a view that there was no stepping stone. Between leaving university and getting a show on at the Ikon, there was this gap, which I’m trying to fill.”

Does De Jong feel completely comfortable with art lovers strolling into his home?

“After the first couple of shows I became more relaxed about letting people into my house,” he says. “Initially I was worried about the violation of my personal space, and I wouldn’t let people past the viewing area.

“But then in winter it was too cold, so I let them into the kitchen where they could drink and have a chat.”

Is De Jong’s wife, who is a project manager, happy about the radical change made to her house?

“She loves it,” he says. “She’s a social butterfly and thinks it’s fantastic having people around all the time. She also says that she loves when she goes to work in the morning, and the last thing she sees in her house before locking the door is an incredible work of art.”

De Jong plans to run the exhibitions space, which is free for entrance, until next summer, when he graduates.

Then he hopes to make a living as an artist and curator.

Until then this gallery stroke gaff is open for art.

Though De Jong admits that living with dwarfs in pyjamas and dead bird projections can be a bit of a squash and a squeeze.

It’s only a two bedroom terrace house, after all.

“We do have to move everything around quite a bit,” he laughs. “Living with so much art in your front room means you have to do a lot of shifting. My house has turned into a bit of a Tetris puzzle!”

* For more information about Vinyl Art Space www.vinylartspace.com