CITYLIFE Magazine, Tim Birch

The overall effect of these paintings owes much to Op Art, but it is apparent that Hussain isn't just replaying this one- time challenge to the traditions of art.

Indeed, the desired effects of Op Art are achieved. The repetitious patterns, disrupted through the use of colour, form, and scale tease the retina. Differing physiological impulses can be felt by the viewer who is, necessarily here stripped of conventional means of communication like naturalistic representation. Seen up close, so that each canvas dominates one's field of vision, the patterns appear as an endless flat surface. In a sense, they communicate a state of harmony. Step back, and the sudden impact of the colour arrangement changes the sensation. Now, more itinerant spots within the frame are emphasised, catching and holding the wandering eye. They promote a fresh impression of depth and movement.

That said, this isn't mere optical illusion. Optical stimulus for its own sake can be a beast of burden, and Hussain has sidestepped this cleverly. For this is subtle. Not the overt nausea induced by Bridget Riley, nor the cold construction of Victor Vasarely. In fact, the patterns owe as much to the celestial designs of traditional Islamic Art. Given this background of mixed heritage, Hussain's work seems less cool and non-commital, and more a pulsating celebration. For unlike the aforementioned artists of Op fame, Hussain's work is free from the crippling effects of geometric science. Its still economically efficient in design terms, but the colour and dimension afforded to the flat surfaces are invigorating.