
Echo Lens, Photo by Vincent Leroy Studio
Whether kinetic sculptures, immersive installations or monumental works, movement is almost always Vincent Leroy's raw material. The kind of movement that inspires life, surprise and an ever-changing perspective. The kind of movement that the artist likes to slow down, to reveal fluidity and flexibility, to reveal and magnify hidden gaps that often go unnoticed in today's frantic race of speed and performance. Through his chosen rhythm, the artist proposes a shift in the way of seeing and observing.
With a subtle blend of poetry and technology, Paris-based French artist Vincent Leroy plays with perceptions and proposes a break with reality. Undulations, reflections, superimpositions, plays of light and transparencies transport the visitor into another dimension, light and airy, dreamlike and contemplative. His installations propose not only visual experiences, but more importantly, experiences that touch the body and emotions. We had a chat with Vincent about his work and his practice.
Interview: Onur Çoban

There is often ‘rotation’ and ‘motion’ in his works. These ever-changing forms and movements lead the viewer to a constant discovery. What place does the meaning of infinite cycles have in your art?
In my work, the concepts of movement, rotation, and infinite cycles indeed occupy a central place. First and foremost, I like the idea that an artwork is not static, but in constant transformation, just like the world around us. It’s not a fixed object that you observe from a single point of view, but a living, changing experience.
Aesthetically, these movements evoke the idea of perfection in balance, fluidity, and an endless gesture. Rotation, in particular, creates a rhythm, a continuous dynamic, allowing the work to renew itself at every moment, never reaching a definitive end. There is a certain beauty in this infinite movement, in this idea of circularity where everything always returns, but in a different way with each cycle. It is a gesture both simple and complex, speaking to both the eye and the mind.
For me, these cycles are also metaphors for the world and our existence: a constant movement, a perpetual flow, where nothing is fixed and everything evolves. What we perceive today will no longer be the same tomorrow. These cycles resonate both in nature, in life, and in the cosmos, embodying both the notion of permanence and impermanence. The paradox of eternal return, of the continuity of movement and transformation, fascinates me. Each cycle carries with it the idea of renewal and evolution. It is this dimension that I try to capture in my work: an invitation to become aware of the passage of time, but also of the beauty of the present moment, which is always changing, and to perceive what escapes our ordinary perception.
Point Cloud, Photos by Vincent Leroy Studio
While you usually focus on elements such as light, movement and reflection in your works, how do you aim for these elements to ‘guide’ the viewer through a space? How do you present the visual poetic experience arising from the combination of light, movement and transparency to the viewer?
More than just an image or a work to contemplate, I aim to create an immersive experience where elements transform as the viewer moves around or within the artwork. It’s not a fixed object observed from a single point, but an experience in constant evolution, where space, light, and movement interact dynamically with the viewer.
I’m not sure I would call them "guides," but movement, light, and reflection are essential elements because they make the artwork feel alive and changing. They act as catalysts, allowing the piece to unfold differently depending on the moment, the environment, and the angle from which it is viewed. For example, an outdoor installation will respond differently based on light variations—whether it’s the cooler, sharper light of the morning or the warmer, softer glow of the evening. This interaction with light, shadows, and reflections gives the artwork an ephemeral quality, something almost imperceptible, inviting the viewer to seize the present moment. I like the idea that things are not fixed, that they can always be discovered from a new perspective, and that there is beauty in the fleeting, in what changes.
The movements I use, often slow and fluid, reinforce this sense of transience. These are not movements with a clear goal or end point, but ones that evolve at their own rhythm, continuously changing. These constant movements invite the viewer to engage more deeply, to move through the space, to observe the artwork from different angles, to watch it transform, to rediscover it each time. There is no conclusion or finality to this visual engagement; it is an endlessly renewed process.
Point Cloud
The idea behind all of this is to create an experience where one finds oneself on the border between the tangible world and the imaginary, between what is visible and what eludes our immediate perception. I am particularly drawn to transparent or reflective materials for their ability to play with the boundaries between the artwork and its space. These materials allow for a constant dialogue between the work and its environment. It’s no longer an isolated object, but an active participant interacting with its space, transforming it with each passing moment, changing with the light, reflecting and absorbing the surrounding elements. I like the idea of being rooted in the real while simultaneously altering our perception of it, almost as an invitation to see differently, to perceive things from another angle.
As an artist working with technological elements, what do you think about the sensory connection you establish with machines? Can technology carry an emotional expression? What kind of a challenge is it for you to make us feel the ‘sensuality’ of machines in your works?
For me, technology is never an end in itself, but rather a tool that serves form, movement, emotion, and poetry. I work in an intuitive and experimental way, without seeking technical performance for its own sake. My approach is more focused on how technology can generate paetry, sensory and emotional experience, far beyond its simple utilitarian function.
Molecular Cloud, Photos by Lance Gerber
"What interests me is when technology becomes "sensitive," alive, when it acquires a kind of "presence" that touches the emotions. I am not talking about technology being alive in an anthropomorphic sense, but rather technology that, through its movement, its fluidity, or the way it interacts with its environment, can generate a form of sensory poetry."
For example, when a motor turns slowly or when mechanical elements articulate smoothly, there is something almost organic in that movement. This sensuality lies in the way repetition, rhythm, or even the softness of movement can provoke an emotional response.
Floating Orbs
The challenge for me is to transform technology into an emotional language that is not solely linked to its technical aspects. It’s about making sure that the "machine" is not perceived as a mere mechanical or cold object, but as an element that invites contemplation, wonder, and evokes a kind of sensory, almost intimate connection with its environment. It’s a subtle process of transformation, where the mechanical aspect blends into a poetic and emotional experience.
How do you think creating works in public space affects an artist's self-expression? Does public space offer a space of freedom for artistic expression, even if it is not a personal space?
Creating works for public space is not an easy task, especially when it comes to works in motion. It requires taking into account constraints such as safety, vandalism, durability, maintenance, and pedestrian flow… In reality, you often find yourself responding to a set of requirements that is closer to urban furniture than to traditional artwork. For me, the real challenge is to ensure that public space remains a space for experimentation and does not simply become a place of compromise.

Molecular Cloud Milos, Photo by Vincent Leroy Studio
But it is also a fascinating exercise because it creates a very different dynamic from what you might find in galleries or museums, where the work is often contemplated in a more intimate, more "controlled" setting. Public space, by definition, is not "private"; it is crossed by a multitude of individuals, cultures, and histories. The artist no longer has total control over how the work will be perceived : it integrates into a context, a reality that escapes the traditional framework of the exhibition.
It is a form of art that seeps into everyday life, becoming an element of people’s immediate environment. The work ends up interacting with unforeseen and varied contexts, and this is where its richness lies. It is no longer an isolated creation within a closed space, but must resonate with the surrounding world. This opens the door to freer, more spontaneous interactions that are not just visual but also contextual and human. In this sense, it is, for me, a particularly lively and dynamic form of expression.
Molecular Cloud Milos
Which of your works has excited you the most in terms of the design process and the final product?
It’s a difficult question because each project has its own specificities and challenges. Each one raises new questions, brings new encounters, and it’s precisely this diversity that makes it so exciting.
For example, Molecular Cloud for the Coachella festival was a particularly special project. It required creating a work that was both artistic and able to engage with the energy of the place, capture the public’s attention, while still remaining true to an aesthetic vision. This kind of challenge, where art has to integrate into a dynamic and interactive environment, is always exciting.
Similarly, collaborations with brands like Hermès or Cartier, where the goal is to define a shared universe, are also very stimulating experiences because they push me to look at my work from a different angle and open up new perspectives.

Show Lens Shangai, Photo by Vincent Leroy Studio
I’m also fortunate to create monumental works in various countries, and I always try, whenever possible, to collaborate with local manufacturers. This is something I deeply appreciate: working with artisans and local teams from different cultures and nationalities really enriches the project. The human exchange, the richness of local craftsmanship, all of that is an integral part of the experience.
Finally, there are the more experimental projects, like Point Cloud or Lenscape, which offer complete freedom. These are always magical and unique moments of discovering how a work will live, evolve, and interact with its environment, reacting to light, wind… In conclusion, each project is a unique adventure, and that’s precisely what makes them so exciting. I would be extremely unhappy if I had to work on the same type of project all the time.
Show Lens
Can you tell us a little bit about the sources of inspiration behind your work?
My sources of inspiration are diverse and varied: of course, I greatly admire kinetic artists like Calder, Soto, Sasamu Shingu… who have paved the way and inspired me deeply. I am also very interested in architecture: the way structures integrate into the landscape, how they interact with light, space, and shadows. I love the idea that art can blend into space, unfolding harmoniously with its environment without seeking to dominate it.
Nature is also a constant source of inspiration. I have always been fascinated by natural phenomena, by cycles of transformation, by the invisible rhythms that govern our environment. Phenomena like light, wind, mist, or clouds particularly captivate me — there’s something magical in the way these phenomena transform and unfold endlessly. They have both a poetic power and a conceptual strength.
Similarly, I am fascinated by scientific fields that study the invisible, such as physics, astronomy, and biology. Once again, the way systems are structured, regenerate, or transform deeply interests me. I enjoy exploring the idea that our perceptions are limited and that the world contains realities we cannot always grasp directly, but that still influence our experience.
Echo Lens
But inspiration can be found anywhere: it could come from a material, a landscape, or a simple moment in everyday life. For example, the idea for Boreal Halo came to me while observing the veiled wheel of my bicycle and the particular movement generated by its waviness. It is often in these moments of simplicity, where we pay attention to something almost imperceptible, that new ideas take shape.
Are you excited for the future? What are your plans?
Yes, of course, I am both excited and a bit concerned, like many of us right now. On the one hand, I am curious to see how technology will continue to evolve and open up new avenues for creativity. There are exciting fields emerging, particularly with artificial intelligence and new materials, which allow for experimenting with new forms of design and fabrication, and open up new possibilities.
Of course, I am also increasingly concerned about the urgent ecological issues we are facing. This is partly why I am exploring more and more works like non-motorized mobiles, which are less energy-intensive and interact with natural elements such as air, wind, and light.
As for my projects, I am working on the idea of combining organic and natural materials with technology to create hybrid works that blend the artificial and the living. This dialogue between the two is fascinating, and I believe it can lead to very rich experiences, where nature and technology respond to and complement each other. In short, there are many exciting directions to explore…







