Z E P T E P I
Zep Tepi was my second solo exhibition at RHODES, following my debut Square Go in 2024. This time around, I took inspiration from ancient Egyptian mythology—particularly the idea of “the beginning.” I was really drawn to that concept of creation and cosmic order, and it became the foundation for this new series of paintings. Through these works, I wanted to bring the Egyptian gods to life in my own vibrant, expressive style.
In Zep Tepi, I imagined the gods as performers in a play, each with their own distinct personality. I played a lot with bold colours and dynamic compositions to capture that energy—cool blues to suggest the calm of the Nile, and warm oranges and reds to reflect the heat of the desert. The relationships between those colours really shaped the atmosphere of each piece.
I’ve always been fascinated by ancient art and architecture, especially the carvings and symmetrical designs that frame the entrances of Egyptian temples. I brought some of those ideas into the work as symbols of balance and harmony. It was my way of connecting what I do now with the timelessness of those ancient traditions.
Even though this show marked a new direction, it still built on what I’d started with Square Go. My anamorphic characters were still there—those strange blends of human and animal forms—but they evolved into something a bit more surreal and maybe even darkly funny. I loved exploring that mix of the mythical and the modern, creating a world where gods and mortals could exist side by side.
For me, Zep Tepi was about exploring creation, balance, and expression—taking these ancient themes and giving them a fresh, contemporary twist.
S Q U A R E G O
Square Go was my UK debut exhibition, and it marked a really important moment for me as an artist. The show brought together a new collection of works shaped by my imaginative — and sometimes grotesque — style. I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of merging forms of man and beast, and in this series those hybrids became my main subjects: surreal, darkly humorous portraits that sit somewhere between the familiar and the strange.
As a Glasgow-based artist, my work naturally reflects the city I live and work in. I take a lot of inspiration from the people and characters I see every day — their faces, expressions, and even the way they speak — and those details find their way into my paintings. Even though the figures I paint aren’t always human, I want them to feel tangible and full of emotion. In a way, each portrait became a caricature of Scotland itself: gritty and intimidating, but also tongue-in-cheek and full of warmth.
A lot of the figures I painted played into Glasgow’s reputation — a bit rough around the edges, maybe even a little dangerous at first glance. But like the city, there’s a humour and a resilience underneath it all. I wanted these characters to capture that balance — tough, hard-wearing, yet full of wit and personality. My goal was to keep the work grounded and free of pretence, to show a kind of familiar melancholy and dark humour that I think really speaks to life here.
Each piece was built up through layers of oil paint, which I love because it dries slowly and lets me constantly rework the surface. I tend to treat painting like a physical process — I carve, etch, and draw into the canvas, almost like a sculptor working with clay. I’ve always felt more like a draughtsman or sculptor than a traditional painter. Those marks and textures help me build the sense of life in the portraits — whether it’s animal fur, human skin, or creased fabric. The soft backgrounds — lilacs, pinks, pale blues — brought a lightness that contrasted with the wild, unpredictable characters at the centre.
Recurring motifs like dogs, deities, and rabbits came from my ongoing interest in folklore, mythology, and ancient Egyptian gods. I often try to highlight the animalistic traits in people — to explore the parallels between man and beast. Even though some of the characters might look menacing at first, I wanted them to have depth and emotion — creatures that, much like Glasgow itself, reveal their warmth and complexity if you take the time to really look.
A N A S T Y P I E C E O F W O R K
My debut exhibition, A Nasty Piece of Work, held at Gallerie Wolfsen in Denmark in 2022, was a really defining moment for me. The show brought together a new body of work that explored many of the themes I’ve continued to develop since — the relationship between man and beast, humour and darkness, myth and modernity. I was beginning to find my voice as a painter, shaping my practice around these strange, hybrid figures that felt both human and animal, familiar yet unsettling.
Even then, my work was deeply influenced by the world around me. Coming from Glasgow, I carried the energy and grit of that city with me into the studio, even while working abroad. I’ve always been inspired by people — their faces, expressions, and little idiosyncrasies — and those details often make their way into my paintings. The characters I created for that exhibition reflected a mix of toughness and vulnerability, just like the people and places that inspire me.
At the time, I was really interested in the idea of perception — how something can appear threatening or grotesque on the surface, but reveal humour, emotion, and even warmth underneath. The figures I painted played with that contrast. They were rough-edged and animalistic, but also deeply human in their gestures and moods. I wanted them to feel raw, grounded, and unpretentious — full of that same melancholy wit I associate with home.
Technically, the process was much the same as it is now. I worked in oil paint, building up layers slowly and physically — carving, scraping, and drawing into the surface as if I were sculpting rather than painting. That hands-on approach gave the work its texture and energy. I used soft pastel tones — lilacs, pinks, pale blues — to offset the wilder characters at the centre of each piece, creating a kind of visual balance between chaos and calm.
Recurring motifs like dogs, deities, and rabbits also appeared in that show, reflecting my ongoing interest in folklore, mythology, and ancient Egyptian gods. I’ve always been drawn to those stories where the divine and the animal overlap with the human — where emotion, instinct, and mythology meet. Even in that first exhibition, I wanted to explore how these archetypes still exist in modern life, hidden in the way we express ourselves or relate to one another.
Looking back, A Nasty Piece of Work really laid the foundation for everything that’s followed. It helped me define my visual language — one that merges myth with the everyday, and humour with something a little darker — and it set me on the path that’s continued through each series since.
