A design language drawn from the softest painting ever made — Leonardo's Mona Lisa, where no line is ever asserted and every contour vanishes like smoke. It takes sfumato as its whole grammar: ochre-to-umber gradients with no seam, warm brown shadows that bleed instead of stop, and a face emerging out of atmospheric haze the way she surfaces from that impossible valley.

Everything sits in the deep varnished gloom of the Louvre's Salle des États — a small poplar panel glowing against umber walls, contours suggested, the half-turned quality of a portrait that will not quite tell you what it is thinking. The instruction is simple: outline nothing, let form arrive out of shadow, and let the viewer lean in.