The library.
A scene is a visual world — the smoke, the sun, the swarm. A look (preset) is a scene plus every slider set just so. The app ships 83 scenes and 149 factory looks; this page is the guided walk through both.
How to read a scene
Every scene in the library is built to the same four promises:
- It listens. Different parts follow different parts of the music — bass moves the big shapes, treble the details, and the song's build-ups and drops steer the whole arc.
- Quiet is quiet. When the music rests, the picture rests. Darkness is a feature — it's what makes the drop land.
- One palette at a time. Each scene holds a single color family per moment and shifts family with the song's key — intentional, not rainbow.
- Never twice. Every play is seeded fresh. The scene is the same world; tonight's weather in it is yours alone.
Smoke, ink & fluids
The beloved family. Real fluid simulation — millions of particles moving through actual physics.
- Smoke — the signature haze — soft, endless, hypnotic
- Liquid Light — silky ink ribbons drawn through a fluid current
- Galaxy — a slow-turning spiral of stars that breathes with the bass
- Inkwell — sumi-e brush strokes land on the beat — wet heads, dry tails — then bleed away
- Marble — polished dark stone veined in gold; the veins glitter with the treble
- Spark Cascade — a waterfall of sparks that rains harder as the song builds
- Sakura — luminous petals falling on a curling wind
- Fiesta — a firework display — fountains and ring-bursts in festival colors
Chrome & dimension
The 3D pack — real materials, depth-of-field, motion blur. Four scenes, and in each one the camera is part of the choreography.
- Chrome Swarm — a murmuration of liquid-metal shards
- Phyllotaxis Bloom — a golden-ratio flower of mirrored petals
- Tunnel Run — a corridor of rings rushing past a dollying camera, shallow-focus and motion-blurred
- Terrain — flying over generative mountains at dusk
Space & cosmos
The big-room family. Darkness used deliberately — light means something when it arrives.
- Solar — a boiling sun — flames lick off the limb on each band of the music
- Eclipse — corona light escaping around a dark disc
- Nebula — the original particle cosmos — never the same twice
Nocturnes
Quiet on purpose. These are the 2 a.m. scenes — negative space, patience, detail.
- Dunes — a moonlit desert whose ridges ride the bass
- Firefly Field — a meadow of fireflies, each pulsing to its own band
- Zen Garden — a still pond — stones drop on the beat, ripples answer
- Caustics — god-rays and light-nets on the floor of a deep pool
Structures & feedback
Architecture and recursion — scenes that build, echo and fold on themselves.
- Kaleido — a feedback kaleidoscope that blooms into a mandala on the drop
- Tunnel — a volumetric warp tunnel with a dark core
- Cells — living colonies dividing to the music
- Prism — a glass wedge splitting the beat into a spectral fan
- Pulse Lattice — a node network firing signals down its wires
- Mycelium — a living transport network creeping outward along its own veins; the beat feeds it
- Crystalline — facets growing out from a crystal heart — quiet music keeps it small, loud grows the whole lattice
Retro & signal
The lo-fi corner — deliberate genre pieces.
- Grid — the outrun horizon — a sun rising over a neon grid
- Neon Horizon — its scanline cousin: the beat pulses the grid wave, a crescendo speeds the scroll
- Skyline — a night city whose lit windows are the spectrum, rain in the air, a wet street mirroring it
- Cipher — digit rain, decoding itself on the beat
- Vinyl — a record spinning under a sweeping sheen
Cymatics & physics
The newest family, and the literal one: what sound does to matter. Some of these draw the standing-wave figure, some solve it frame by frame — none of them are a picture of physics pasted over a beat detector.
- Chladni — the classic plate figure, one mode mapped across the whole frame — the mode numbers slide with the music continuously, so the figure morphs and never snaps
- Cymascope — water in a round cell: concentric zones whose angular order climbs with the radius, contour lines sliding as the spectrum moves them
- Sand Plate — grains that actually migrate and pile on the nodal lines of a vibrating plate — the sorting simulated, not drawn
- Faraday — a real damped membrane integrated every frame; the lattice is authored nowhere, it emerges — brighter timbre gives a finer labyrinth
- Standing Wave — the 1D case, and the most legible: eight bowed strings, one per band, each ringing in its own harmonic — bass low and fat, treble high and shivering
- Ferrofluid — the magnetic one, not the acoustic one — a black liquid throwing the hexagonal Rosensweig crown, spike height following the bass as field strength. Near-black by design; everything you see is reflection.
- Ripple Tank — two-source interference seen straight down: hyperbolic nodal lines crossed by expanding elliptical wavefronts, exactly the physics-lab tank
- Node Cathedral — a three-dimensional standing wave with the camera inside it — nodal sheets vaulting overhead like nave and aisles. Height is the frequency axis: bass lights the low vaults, treble the high ones.
- Lodestone — iron filings on a circular plate. Filings are anisotropic, so they lie down along the contour they land on — oriented strokes that catch the light by their angle.
Looks: save, recall, perform
- Save the current state of everything under a name — that's a look.
- Recall by clicking, by number keys 1–0, by MIDI pad, by OSC, or by asking the AI.
- Transitions honor your crossfade time — a look change can be a hard cut or a ten-second dissolve.
- The factory gallery (149 looks) is a starting library, not a cage: rename, reorder, delete freely. Updates add new packs exactly once and never resurrect what you deleted.
Let the app drive
Surprise me invents a new look on demand — always curated, never a repeat of what you just saw. Auto-pilot does it on a schedule (or locked to the beat), drawing from a pool you choose. Between the two, the app can run an entire evening solo — that's the living-room trainer in one sentence.
Want a scene that doesn't exist?
Describe it to the AI copilot — "a lighthouse beam sweeping through rain", "gold dust settling on black velvet" — and it authors a brand-new scene into your library, checks its own work visually, and hands you the result. No code on your side of the conversation. See The AI copilot.