The Modula Series is a minimal visual language built from geometric form. Circles, arcs, bowls, bands, basic shapes pushed into sophisticated composition, where beauty comes from restraint rather than ornament. Each piece is designed to stand completely on its own, and also to speak to the others: a shared visual logic that lets any two pieces find harmony together, chosen and paired on your own terms.
That’s the idea behind the name. Modula isn’t one image repeated, it’s a set of related moves, the same geometric vocabulary rearranged, recomposed, and recolored until the variations start to resonate with one another. One form might take two colorways, another six, each a complete composition in its own right, each still part of the same family. Hang one alone, or choose a few to sit side by side, shapes echo, colors trade places, and the wall becomes the arrangement.
The core palette is deliberate: Galactic Gold Yellow, Mars Red, Neptune Blue, and Terraform Green, four colors, recombined two at a time across the series. It’s a palette with a lineage: mid-century modern’s confidence, Bauhaus’s discipline, Swiss design’s precision, filtered through a contemporary, slightly playful hand. Bold enough to anchor a wall, considered enough to reward a second look. A handful of pieces step outside that palette entirely, specialty inks from the MGC print shop, pink and light blue on fuchsia or white stock, color departures that push a familiar form somewhere the core palette doesn’t go.
Every piece in Modula is one of one. Hand-pulled, one layer at a time, each print carries the trace of the person who pulled it, the pressure of the squeegee, the ink forced through the mesh, the small variations no machine would produce and no machine was asked to. That’s not a limitation of the process; it’s the point of it.
The real challenge of Modula isn’t technical, it’s editorial. Geometry is infinite. Shape, proportion, and color can be recombined endlessly, which means the hardest part of this series is deciding where to stop: which forms earn their place, which combinations hold tension without collapsing into noise, and which variations are worth pulling by hand, one at a time, the way they were meant to be made.
