They decline in size from glitter-ball to tennis ball, and as they rotate, fractals of shadows are cast on the wooden floor of the Glasgow Sculpture Studios. It is an attractive and amusing display, the title piece of Siobhan Hapaska’s small but well formed exhibition.

Three of the London-based artist’s works inhabit the simple main gallery of the GSS. The balls, pointing to something gleaming and strong fading slowly to nothing – the titular dog losing its scent, perhaps, or some organic power being sucked away – dominate the room, but are not the only interest here.

Indeed, Downfall, the first piece encountered, is perhaps more interesting and arresting. An olive tree, spectral and dead, has been uprooted and hangs above two platforms, one housing the earth where its roots once dwelt, the other a stage for its dead leaves. The unearthed roots, of course, mirror the frozen spray of its dead branches, which are hung with shrivelled black olives.

The manufacture of the display is faultless, and the suspended tree is a truly melancholy sight. Hapaska sees this dead tree as a metaphor for the troubles in the Middle East, but it struck me as something more apocalyptic. The olive tree is an archaic symbol, and its suspension here – in this industrial, cold space – is a reminder of the more global, historic scale of man’s defilement of nature. The shrivelled black olives are reminiscent of the black flowers in the television drama Edge Of Darkness, which prefigured an environmental catastrophe. It is a bleak and lovely work, immaculately crafted.

The third work here, while equally well made, is the least interesting. Tick is a structure of steel tubing, holding up a strange stepped, or crenulated, object again covered in deer skin. At the heart of its climbing frame body is a silent LED box, which is wittily attached to the wall with a skin-covered tail, but overall its resonance remains a mystery.

Let’s return to those balls, however, which are fascinating if not as immediately satisfying as Downfall. They are arrayed in such a way that the visitor’s reflection seems to flash in different directions. And again, their manufacture and display are wonderful. The written material that comes with the exhibition suggests they display a loss of direction, but I think they show a clear direction, but a direction that fades into nothingness, or a sense of futility, or even ridiculousness. This is Hapaska’s first show in Scotland, and it is a fine one.

Siobhan Hapaska

The Nose That Lost Its Dog

Glasgow Sculpture Studios

Until January 30