Gyongy no. 2480 1972

Victor Vasarely created Gyongy no. 2480 with meticulous execution using monochrome and geometric shapes, a kind of relentless precision of form. It makes me wonder what it was like for Vasarely to conceive of these illusions of depth and dimension, almost like a mathematical equation. He knew exactly how to trick our eyes, didn't he? Each circle, each square, placed with an uncanny understanding of perception. The surface is so smooth, so precise; you almost forget it’s paint. And yet, within that perfection, there's something mesmerizing. I can almost imagine Vasarely standing back, squinting, adjusting, ensuring every element played its part in the visual symphony. It's a testament to his unwavering pursuit of a new way of seeing, a kind of visual futurism. Artists are always responding to one another. When I look at his work, I feel like he is talking to artists like Josef Albers and Bridget Riley, but also inventing a new language. And even though it's cool and precise, it still has feeling.