The Disc 1918

Editor: So, this is Fernand Léger’s “The Disc,” painted in 1918. It’s oil on canvas and immediately strikes me as…well, a bit of a joyful jumble. All those strong colours and geometric shapes crashing into each other! What do you make of it? Curator: Ah, Léger. He was smitten with the Machine Age, you know. For me, "The Disc" vibrates with that fascination. It’s almost like a disassembled engine, but rendered with such playful exuberance. Does that jumble suggest something more intentional on a deeper look? A kind of visual harmony he was aiming for despite the chaos? Editor: Harmony amidst chaos, I like that. It does feel almost architectural, like seeing a city in its component parts. What about the colours? They’re so primary, so bold. Curator: They’re like the building blocks of a new visual language, wouldn't you agree? He strips everything down, almost to its essence. The disc itself – a pure, geometric form. Is it sun? Is it a gear? Léger wants us to consider both, perhaps even simultaneously. Do you think that by using these basic forms, he is building his vision of modern beauty? Editor: Definitely! It feels like he’s inventing a whole new way of seeing. Something stripped back but still dynamic, like the modern world itself was changing rapidly back then. Thanks, I feel like I’m looking at it with fresh eyes. Curator: My pleasure! Seeing art is truly about opening your senses, and I would also say opening yourself, and then letting yourself find something new. "The Disc" just might make a gear turn or two within you.