May 22, 2025 |
You can tell Trackie McLeod is fun to have around at a party. Describing the make-up of his work as “one part tongue-in-cheek, an ounce of sarcasm and a pint of Tennent’s Lager,” the Glaswegian artist’s work is firmly rooted in taking the piss. “To make the heavier themes more palatable and easier to digest,” he says of why a good chuckle is his chosen antidote for alleviating bulkier topics like class, queerness and masculinity present in his work. “Humour is universal,” he says. “Sometimes art isn’t, and art should be for everyone.”
Growing up queer in Scotland during the early 2000s, McLeod’s work – which transverses textiles, screen prints and sculpture – leans into the impact this had on his psyche. This exploration forms the foundation for his solo exhibition, Fruit, which kicked off in his native Glasgow in November before being shipped to the Big Smoke for its aptly named follow-up, Fruit II, which opens today at The Bomb Factory in Holborn. “When concocting Fruit, I knew I wanted to discuss my relationship with my sexuality, which involved revisiting my formative years,” says McLeod. To aid this voyage into his past, he asked himself some key questions. What made him tick, what he was watching and what he was listening to all came under inspection. “Often, these were all indicators of the inner conflict between my naturally feminine side and my then performative masculinity,” he says. Unearthing the shame he felt concerning his identity, putting it under the microscope and using this to create art for public consumption sounds, at best, taxing and, at worst, traumatising. But for McLeod, producing the work was a step towards recovery, describing the experience as “therapeutic and a reminder to keep powering on.”
Unlike today, the early 2000s ate political correctness for breakfast. Spurred on by a tabloid culture that was inherently prejudiced, language was a key tool for cutting deep. Enter the final boss of bigotry: Piers Morgan for The Sun. “A piece I’ve included in the show titled Meghan [referencing Meghan Markle] is a clipping from [one of Morgan’s The Sun] articles from 1987. I’m a big EastEnders fan, and this article was in response to the first-ever gay kiss on the soap. It’s a horrible read, total bile and though before my time, my generation was a byproduct of that era, so I remember it well,” says McLeod. Morgan’s use of the term “yuppie poofs” should be enough of a litmus test to show why an article like this had such an impact on McLeod. The inclusion of the article, however, isn’t an attempt to wave down some pity, it’s an ode to queer history and the strength that is threaded through its chapters. “I’ve screen-printed it onto copper, something hardwearing and resilient, to represent my community,” he says. “It is also a reminder that the same hate still exists, it’s just been packaged differently. I think the role of my work is not always to have the answers, but to open up the conversations.”
With work so coded by Glasgow, why was London Fruit‘ next stop, and what impact did that have on the show? “I fucking love Glasgow. But it’s time to broaden my scope. London brings a new audience, so I’ve rejigged the show a little from its first edition so nobody is left behind in terms of the Scottish patter,” he says. “I’m looking forward to meeting and working with new faces, and a summer in London means being able to leave the house without a jacket. It’s the little things.”
So where does McLeod want to take Fruit next? “I have a tattoo on my leg that says “London. New York. Glasgow.” If that is anything to go by, next stop the Big Apple?” he says. Fruit in the Big Apple? Sounds like something we can sink our teeth into.
Photography by Brynley Odu Davies.
