Since opening Likely General Gallery in late 2013, we've had the honour of watching over 150+ artists and vendors utilize our space. The gallery presents new work each month and openings are typically the first Friday of every month. We strive to be an open and inclusive space for up-and-coming artists to experiment with solo or collaborative shows. We typically book 6 months ahead. If you are an artist wishing to show, please don't hesitate to contact us with a proposal. 

++ Our physical gallery is now OPEN during store hours. For the time being, our exhibitions will not be having gatherings or openings but, we are excited to offer a new virtual gallery space which will be revealed in August 2020. David Woodward's work is currently available in our physical gallery. 

 Likely General is not a scent-free space.

There is an accessibility ramp upon entering.

Gallery Hours
Monday - Saturday 12-7, Sunday 12-5

 C U R R E N T    E X H I B I T I O N  S
As Glass Returns to Sand by David Woodward

David Woodward is a Toronto-based visual artist working predominantly in collage. Since graduating from the Fine Art and Art History programs at Queen’s University, his work has been exhibited in Canada and abroad. He is a recipient of the Emerging Visual Artists Grant from the Toronto Arts Council (2017), and a Research and Creation Grant from the Canada Council for the Arts (2019) to support his work produced while at the Sointula Art Shed Residency on Malcolm Island, British Columbia.

My practice is centred around an examination of the intersections between the individual and the communal, and the effects of each upon the other. I see this tedious interconnectedness as most visually apparent in the natural world - its unpredictable feedback loops and domino effects endlessly forging new states of dependency between humankind and the environment. As I’m drawn to these webs of cause and effect, my work explores relationships between the micro and macro by repurposing familiar and recognizable images into new forms that might function as containers or placeholders for personal experience. In my work, I use imagery gleaned from books and magazines about astronomy, horticulture, the environment and design. Cutouts of vegetation, rock, landscape and architecture move beyond their original representations and coalesce into new wholes and forms - some colour fields, some composite images, and some fragments standing alone as emblems or monuments, speaking to the erosion of time and the lost relevance of their former incarnations.


 C U R R E N T  O N L I N E   E X H I B I T I O N  S

VISIT GALLERY: My Little Arcana By Alisa McRonald 


*Since our brick and mortar is currently closed due to COVID-19, we've had to close the Likely General Gallery as well. These artists have worked so hard to prepare for their exhibitions months in advance. Much time and energy has been placed into creating beautiful exhibitions for our community so, to remedy, we're offering this online gallery of all exhibitions that were programmed to be in our physical space at this time. If you're interested in a piece, please click through to purchase. Free, safe, zero-contact delivery in Toronto. If you are interested in purchasing but are not from Toronto, please contact us for shipping rates. All work is framed and ready to hang unless otherwise noted. Thank you so much for supporting our artists and gallery at this time*

My Little Arcana By Alisa McRonald

I’m a Gen X, feminist, witchy queerdo from a small town.

Growing up in the 80s, all I had to free my mind were my aunt’s punk rock record collection, Fashion Television, the occasional free MuchMusic weekend, and the occult section of the local library.

Looking back, I can pinpoint exact moments that had – and still have – profound influence on me. These became My Little Arcana.

It started with The Creep. He’s a very 70s looking guy who represents every gross jerk who ever creeped on me as a young person.

Next came The Witch. She’s a culmination of all the things that have always fascinated me about witches, both historically and in pop culture. She is my Muse.

Then there’s the Princess. This take-charge type is no helpless maiden in a tower. She is Princess Leia, a rebel and a smartass with great hair.

The Cat is a big part of my life and my art. Cats are my familiars. The musical Cats sparked my love of both Theatre, and rock music. 

Finally, the Rock Star represents artistry, boundary-pushing, and sexuality as embodied by Bowie, glam, and punk. 




My fascination with the urban landscape goes back to my childhood. As a young boy in my home town of Bordeaux, France, I was sent out every evening, starting at around the age of 5 or 6, to go buy a baguette for dinner. It was only a block away from my house, but apart from school, it was the first time I was able to experience the outside world as a somewhat independent human being. At the time, a block seemed like a vast amount of space to explore, and I still have very vivid visual memories, snapshots of details, like my dad’s dark blue Renault 4L parked on the street, a very specific crack in the asphalt, the rusty blue cast iron fence 6 houses down where that huge dog would bark at me every time I walked by, the oily strip of sidewalk outside of the car mechanics on the corner, the patterned curtain hung in front of a house front door to protect the paint from the harsh summer sun (a very old fashioned and regional trait), or that house facade that was entirely covered in vines with two windows for eyes and a front door for a mouth. As I grew older, my parents would then also send me to buy cigarettes, which extended my walk by another block, and later, to the convenience store or the pharmacy, and later still, when I got into skateboarding, I was then able to roam and discover a vaster territory and a different filter to look at things through.


I am always pushing myself to pay attention, and try and look at the real world of inanimate objects with a fresh and curious eye, and practice the action of looking as a psychedelic and transcendental experience. In that regard, the birth of my first baby son,  15 months ago, the most psychedelic and transcendental of all experiences, reinforced the acuity of that feeling and has driven me to try and imagine what would catch his eye.   


All the photographs were taken strolling around the neighbourhood of Roncesvalles in Toronto, and more specifically in the few blocks surrounding where I live. The presence of cars as some sort of relics that were seemingly parked one last time, never to be moved or driven again, like archeological landmarks punctuating my walks, isn’t a coincidence, as only the pedestrian will have the time and ability to look at the world around them, while the driver’s gaze is bound to focus on the road and their users, stuck within the frame of some sort of dreadful tunnel vision that the pointless craving for hurriedness will never free them from.


Although circumstantial - because the series was shot and completed prior to the events - One can not be oblivious to the fact that the recent developments of the Covid-19 virus spread and the self-isolation measures recently taken around the world, and restricting people’s freedom to move around and gather, shine a different light on these pictures and make this body of work resonate in a darker manner.


Simon Letourneau, March 2020.  


 U P C O M I N G   2 0 2  0  E X H I B I T I O N S 



 P A S T   E X H I B I T I O N S 


March | Andrew Zukerman, Collage

February | Kids Art Show 



December | Kristen Sjaarda, silk/photography/textile

November | Miranda Crabtree, drawing/painting

September & October | Sarah Cannon

July & August | What Would Love Do Now Pop-up

June | Window Installation by Maddy Matthews

May | Fallows | Chelsee Ivans

April | Artwork For Your Bathroom Wall…and other intimate spaces | Alisha Davidson

March | If 1 More Person Tells Me I'm Strong I'm Going 2 Cry | BlackPowerBarbie

February | Hell Heal the Periphery | Spencer Hatch



December | So Far From the Water and Thirsty | Alicia Nauta & Brooke Manning

November | Goblin Market | Anna May Henry 
October | Talk | Maryanne Casasanta

 August | Family Process | Glasstalisman & Penumbra Glassworks

July | I Saw A Change | Hugh Matter

June | Kids Art: Inclusivity Show for Kids 12 and under

May | Drawings, Lorenz Peter

April | Colour Code Print Show |

March | Drawings, Erika Altosaar

February | Drawing Down the Moon, Shauna Eve

January | Lewis Pass, Angela Lewis



December | In The Sky, On The Earth, Lindsey Lickers

November | State(s) of Being, Alice MacClean

October | Fleeting Glimpses, Kirk Clyne

September | Tasteful Nudes, Cody Deane Cochrane

August | Half a Year, Andrea Manica

July |  Reaching for the Pearl, Diana Lynn Vandermeulen

June | Bric-a-Brac, Chris Foster

May |  Not Separate from a Dang Thing, Drea Scotland 

April | Catalog of Uncertainty, Alicia Nauta

March | Public House, Private Life, Alec Sutherland  

January |  Perennial, Sarah Cannon



December | Sagan Editions & Flying Books

October | Mineral, Mountain, Woman, watercolour drawings, Louise Reimer

September | Domestic Concerns, paintings, Laura Dawe

June | World to Come, watercolour drawings, Julia Dickens

May | Shadow Grounds, drawings, G.B. Jones, Adrienne Kammerer, Jamiyla Lowe

April | Bird Feels, Lucy Pelletier

March | Golden Lonesome, Arden Wray

February | Beyond the Starry Mountain, Diana Lynn Vandermeulen 



December | Felted Forest, felted sculpture, Marjorie Campbell

November | West Arm, photographs, Sarah Bodri

October | Come to the Mountain, oil paintings, Cody Deane Cochrane

September | V NICE V ZEN, visual and sound installation, Diana Lynn VanderMeulen

August | Please Do Touch, braille paintings, Devon Sioui & Faye Harnest

July | 4 Poets Celebration with installation by Andi Clifford

June | Rising Reflections, weaving, Katherine Salnek