Bursting with colour and sticky sweet nostalgia, Trackie McLeod’s latest interactive exhibition Soft Play beckons us to take our turn on the climbing frame. Trackie talks through his concept and inspiration, how he translates his teenage years into a space that encourages the experimentation he’s been exploring himself.
In this interview and portraits shot in Lewes at Charleston house, not far from the exhibition itself, Trackie’s bold and lighthearted personality reveals his big plans and hopes for inclusivity within the art world. Still, his work is heartfelt and radiates with memory and its complex feeling. Through the charm of his Glaswegian wit and wry humour, Soft Play remembers a time between concrete streets and laptop screens, reminding us that art, like life, is best not always taken too seriously.
Hey Trackie, to start us off, can you tell us about how you came to the idea behind your new exhibition Soft Play?
I recently became an uncle and, through my nephew, rediscovered play. It made me realise how little adults actually get to play. I became interested in the stage between child and teenager, when play starts to feel uncool. Soft Play explores this awkward in-between, mixing hard and soft, masculine and feminine, and the social codes of mid-2000s teenage life.
In your exhibition you touch on the idea of growing up. What were you like as a teenager and in what ways do you think you are similar and or different now?
I'm still really into music and clothes (albeit less shite). I was also total pain in the arse then, so I reckon not much has changed.
What are some details from your school life — like games, places or rules — that are distinctly memorable to you? Do they show up in this exhibition?
I grew up at the dawn of the Internet, so I remember when my primary school got its first computer. We’d line up to walk the dog with the Microsoft Paint pen, then colour it in. I think mentally I’m still there. The Future’s Bright reimagines Microsoft’s iconic Bliss wallpaper, reflecting on how my generation was the last to play outside and the first to grow up online.
What were your mates like in school? Were you a cheeky kid and what did you get up to together?
I hung around with a lot of girls. They were always mouthy, fag smoking, Dream Matte Mousse wearing main characters. They taught me how to stand up for myself without throwing fists. The phrase you couldn't fight your way out a poly bag comes to mind. We'd ditch school and watch Jeremy Kyle, eat Pot Noodles and argue over who got last draws on a Mayfair super-king.
Your last exhibition, Fruit II, ran May until June in London at the start of this year. Congrats on the success! Compared to Fruit II, this exhibition feels more focused on place and childhood. Why did you decide to make this exhibition more interactive?
I wanted the work to be more interactive to really embrace the idea of play. There are buttons that trigger sounds and lights, a full-size swing set, bean bags, and even a climbing frame, all nods to our own childhoods. I wanted it to feel fun, colourful, and hands-on, like a real soft play. Soft Play looks at teenage life in general, whereas Fruit II was more about my own journey with my sexuality.
One of my personal favourites is your Gay if Ye Don’t because it balances humour and resonance. It’s clever. How does this piece fit into the concept of the exhibition?
It’s important to give some context to the time. In 2006, everything and anything was called gay, and there were strict social codes and hoops everyone jumped through to avoid that label. I turned this idea into a long, ridiculous list, screen-printed in the Nokia 3310 font onto metal. I love using metal as a canvas, it's tough, it endures, just like the 2000s. The work is a humorous look at how far we’ve come and how daft it all was really.
You talk a lot about your art being fun and accessible, working to challenge the serious nature of the art world. Why is this important to you?
My thinking is that making art funny, makes it more accessible. And making art more accessible for everyone helps make it less elitist. Being an artist should be a career path open to everyone, and right now it isn’t. How do we tackle this?
If you weren’t an artist, what do you think you would be doing right now?
Great question. In my P7 yearbook, I wrote that I wanted to be an artist living in Ireland? I’d never been, but it must have all sounded cool at the time. I’ve never really had a backup plan, which is kind of mental. If it wasn’t this, I’d probably still be stuck working in retail.
Nonetheless making art can also be exhausting at times. When you’re making, do you lean more towards discipline or play? Are there parts of the process that frustrate you, or is it mostly fun?
The only frustrations I ever run into are when I’m working with a client, it can sometimes be hard to find a happy medium. I’d always recommend sticking to your guns. I tend to be more disciplined, and Soft Play, in a way, was a reminder to slow down and make time to play and experiment. In 2025, I’ve been jumping from project to project with little time to breathe, so in 2026 I’m hoping for a better balance between work, life, and fun.
Is there anything that you feel your work cuts out? Is there anything you want to explore but haven’t yet?
My work is never going to be overly conceptual, I want my art to feel accessible. That means cutting out the unnecessary wanky language and ideas. I’ve been writing a lot lately, and in 2026 I’d love to make some music. I also want to keep experimenting with the scale of my work, the bigger, the better.
What comes to mind as a pivotal moment in your journey as an artist?
My second solo exhibition, Fruit, in November 2024 was a real turning point. I took a big risk creating my largest works to date and showed them in a non-traditional space outside of town. I was proud the way the work all came together. For the first time it felt considered and made sense in the space. It was a reminder: you can do anything if you put your mind to it. Also collaborating with Nike on a collection this year was a proper pinch-me moment.
The streets and culture of Glasgow find themselves in your older work yet more subtly in Soft Play. What would you like to see more of in Glasgow?
Recognition for how much Glasgow has and continues to shape music, arts and culture. But mainly more opportunities for creatives, especially working-class, POC and queer folk.
Aside from your work, what does play look like to you these days?
Not going on a two day bender.
