#44: The Mathematics Behind the Moiré

Moiré patterns look almost magical when you first encounter them. Overlapping lines or grids suddenly ripple into waves, distort into curves, or shimmer with movement as you shift your perspective.

They feel alive, unpredictable — but underneath that strangeness lies mathematics. And it’s surprisingly complex.

Not Just Optical Illusions

At first glance, a moiré pattern seems like a simple trick of the eye. Put two sets of parallel lines on top of each other, shift them slightly, and the interference creates a new pattern. But the deeper you look into it, the more you realise how many variables are at play: line thickness, spacing, angles, layering, and even the viewer’s distance.

Mathematicians describe it as interference between frequencies — one set of repeating lines interacting with another. It’s not random at all. It’s geometry, ratios, and precision coming together to create what feels chaotic.

Math Meets Mess

In theory, you could calculate the exact outcome of a moiré pattern before you make it. There are formulas for predicting the size and direction of the interference waves, equations that explain how the eye perceives the distortions.

But in practice — especially in the studio — the maths feels too big to hold. It’s so precise, so multi-layered, that my approach is closer to trial and error. I move the acetate, shift the angle, print a new overlay, and watch what happens.

The maths is there in the background, but I don’t want to calculate it. I want to feel it.

Why Complexity Excites Me

Part of what excites me about working with moiré is exactly this: the tension between order and chaos. Beneath every shimmering distortion, there’s a grid of perfect logic. The patterns don’t exist without the mathematics. But when they appear, they feel irrational — alive, almost organic.

It reminds me that painting, too, balances precision and unpredictability. I might plan an image, but once I start painting, things shift, colours bleed, surfaces resist. The maths of moiré mirrors the mess of making art.

Inventing Without Equations

I know I’ll never fully master the mathematics behind moiré — not in the technical sense. But maybe that’s not the point. For me, it’s enough to know that every strange, shimmering pattern comes from a hidden order.

My job isn’t to solve the equations. It’s to build on them, to test, to experiment, and eventually to translate the interference into paint. To make the invisible maths visible — not as numbers, but as experience.

And maybe that’s where art and maths meet: in the pursuit of something that feels impossible to hold in its entirety, but endlessly worth exploring.

.M.

Be real.

Make art.

If you’d like to learn more about my creative process or see my latest work, feel free to reach out or check out the rest of my website.