Massimo Bartolini @ Fruitmarket, until 14 April

Divided across two floors, an interesting dichotomy of a show presents a decisive split between Bartolini’s renowned immersive works and his quiet studio experiments. In a darkened room a network of multicoloured bulbs sprawls across the floor on a wooden framework, twisting and turning like a city’s infrastructure viewed from the night sky. Synchronised, they light up in an unpredictable pattern that startles and unsettles. Circumnavigating the space on a narrow path, you are overwhelmed by a childish pleasure - akin to that of entering a fairground or seeing the tree light up at Christmas. There is silence except for the clicking off and on of electronics, achieving an unexpected intimacy. 

Upstairs is a collection of small objects that could easily have been made by a different artist. The display of items along one wall and across an enormous table at first seems bizarre, before it becomes apparent that the setup is a nod to Bartolini’s own studio. Over 50 objects are carefully scattered, made of everything from judo belts to bicycle seats, rocks to marble-runs; found objects interspersed with exquisite, labour-intensive carvings. They lack the concision of the finished article, inviting curiosity, while each item imitates another in a way that feels inquisitive and playful. They seem to have little in common bar Bartolini himself and his view of what they are destined to become. 

Being granted access to such personal items brings a real sense of privilege - their presence offers insight into his experimental methods. Both parts of the exhibition showcase his regard for the fluidity of material and formal properties, in very different ways. Excitingly, the show offers more than just the glossy final product. Sure, it’s got that too, but it’s also a stripped-back and honest insight into chance and interpretation, process and progression. [Emma Ewan]