In his latest exhibition, Glaswegian artist Trackie McLeod presents a piece of screen-printed aluminium titled Things That Were ‘Gay’ In School. The list, which contains over 70 claims, includes “owning a lunch box”, “having a pencil case”, “playing football”, “not playing football”, “being pleasant”, “tying your shoelaces” and “being passionate about anything”. It’s funny, but subtly painful, speaking to McLeod’s unique ability to balance both emotions, resulting in work that is widely relatable yet skilfully shrewd. Coded with the tongue-in-cheek approach the artist has become known for, Soft Play, now open at the Charleston gallery in Lewes and running until April 12, explores how childhoods can be coloured by homophobia and demanding expectations of masculinity. With many of the works centred around the idea of play, connecting more literal interpretations like playing as a child to the more abstract “playing it straight”, the display delves into the challenges McLeod has personally faced as a queer man and the broader implications of gender roles on the collective experience. Here, we sit down with McLeod to hear more about his fascination with memory and how it shapes who we are, the intertwining of different mediums in his work and what he wants visitors to Soft Play to be left feeling.
What is your fascination with culture and memory, and where does it stem from?
I just love how memories and culture shape who we are as people. I’m especially interested in sounds, objects or trends and how that can bring back a whole feeling or time. I think this comes from growing up during a time when things were changing fast, especially with the internet. Looking at memory and culture helps me understand how the past stays with us and how we make sense of it today.
Your solo exhibition, Soft Play, opens at Charleston in mid-October. Run us through the exhibition?
Becoming an uncle recently got me back into the world of play, but through my nephew’s eyes. It made me think about how, as adults, we hardly ever let ourselves just play anymore. I got interested in that transitional time between being a kid and a teenager, when play starts to feel uncool or childish. Soft Play is all about that awkward journey of growing up – mixing hard and soft, masculine and feminine and the social rules and trends that shaped teenage life at the dawn of the internet age.
The exhibition combines various mediums, such as sculpture, textiles, print, sound and objects. Why was it important to intertwine each of these?
Using different mediums makes for more a more interesting show and experience. I also think it also makes the work more accessible and hopefully connects with a wider audience. Plus, it gives me more room to play and experiment with ideas.
Do you have a favourite piece in the exhibition and if so, why?
One of my favourite pieces is Gay If Ye Don’t – a long list of daft things that were considered ‘gay’ at school. The text is screen-printed in Nokia 3310 font onto metal. I love using metal as a canvas, it’s tough, it endures, just like the 2000s did. The work is a funny look back at how far we’ve come, and how ridiculous the hoops were that we jumped through just to avoid seeming ‘gay’.
How do you want people to feel when they leave the exhibition? Is there something distinct you want them to be left with?
I knew with this show, I wanted the work to feel more interactive. There are buttons that trigger sounds and lights, a to-scale swing set, bean bags, even a climbing frame, all nods to our childhoods. I wanted it to feel playful, colourful and tangible. My hope is that it makes people laugh, and maybe even takes them back to their own youth.
Photography by Lee Robbins.