LAITH MCGREGOR

Working across meticulous drawing, cast-off studio remnants, and hand-built forms, McGregor crafts a quiet meditation on time, memory, and the fragility of the natural world. In this new body of work, the still life is re-imagined, not as a static arrangement, but as a living, breathing metaphor for the human condition. Clay vessels cradle wilting flora, pencil shavings are entombed like relics, and symbolic figures drift through graphite landscapes, each caught in varying states of reflection and disconnection.

At the heart of the exhibition is Always, a large-scale graphite on canvas depicting three enigmatic figures suspended within a fractured, ambiguous landscape. As with the still life genre itself, McGregor’s practice invites close observation, quiet tension, and unanswered questions.

Ain’t no Sunshine is both a celebration of life and a lament for what’s been lost, a meditation on what it means to be arranged, observed, and perhaps, transformed.

There is tenderness here, and unease, a lingering sense of epilogue. The exhibition reflects on what remains when the noise fades: the rituals of making, the residue of practice, and the quiet poetry found in what is left behind.