Under Current
“Under Current” is a kinetic light sculpture built from two laser-cut acrylic rings, dozens of reflective threads, and a single slow-turning motor. The rings sit one above the other. When they twist at different speeds, the white and rainbow threads fold, fan out, and tighten into new geometric shapes, as if an unseen hand were pulling them. Addressable LEDs mounted inside each ring wash the threads with shifting colour, so every small movement of the motor shows up as ripple-like shadows on the floor and walls.
I wanted to stage a quiet conflict: order versus chaos. Half of the threads are plain white, half are brightly coloured; together they look like a tidy lattice until motion breaks that symmetry. As the motor turns, the lattice resembles a cage that is trying—and occasionally failing—to contain its own shadows. That tension between rigid framing and restless movement is the core feeling I hoped to share.
Jack Burnham writes that true kinetic art lets movement itself be the message, not decoration. Under Current follows that call. The sculpture has no image-making purpose; its whole point is the slow, measurable twist and the way light reveals that motion.
Andreas Broeckmann describes machine artworks as “processual”—they exist in real time, always in the middle of becoming something else. My motor runs on a short generative sketch that varies speed and direction every few seconds, so the lattice never repeats the same pattern twice. The work stays alive only as long as the code runs and a viewer stands nearby.
Light-and-Space artists such as James Turrell treat light as a material that can erase or redraw boundaries. In Under Current the LEDs turn a thin set of threads into a solid-looking wall when the rings pause, then dissolve that wall into a soft vortex the moment rotation begins. The piece asks the viewer to decide which version feels “real.”
Finally, Broeckmann talks about perception as event: what we see is negotiated on the spot between object, motion, light and audience. I noticed this first-hand—people leaned left and right to catch the changing moiré, proving the artwork is not the hardware but the shifting relationship we build with it.
Proposal Sketch
The build followed the classic loop: proposal → prototype → build → iterate → refine. My first idea hung both rings only from fishing line. In critique the professor warned that a fully hanging structure would wobble too much, so I built a small cardboard prototype to test that claim. He was right: even gentle motion shook the whole form.
Prototype
For the final piece I laser-cut two 45 cm acrylic rings and glued support ribs on the back. Dalin helped me bolt a NEMA-23 stepper motor to a heavy T-shaped wooden pillar, then tie the pillar to the studio ceiling grid with zip-ties. This kept the motor stable while letting the top ring spin.
Final Laser Cut Ring
The biggest challenge came during early motor tests: after two minutes the upper ring slid off and crashed. The vibration had loosened the flange screws. My fix was simple but effective—feed strong nylon thread through each mounting hole and tie it directly to the motor shaft coupler. That indirect “soft” linkage dampened vibration and kept everything in place, though it reduced the maximum twist angle.
Video showing the vibration from the motor & screw shaking
Video showing the vibration from the motor & screw shaking
Twisting test after changing from screw to fish line
Twisting test after changing from screw to fish line
Main Equipments used: