Jan Robert Leegte’s Orbits (2026) is a fully on-chain project on Ethereum mainnet. It is a seeded space of 1000 orbits that can be explored. A WebGL engine generates a sequence of JPEG files at 12 frames per second. Orbits is responsive and interactive. You can drag-rotate the camera within the work. Token cover images are stored on Arweave. Read more on the artwork below.

A limited number will be mintable, so every collector can choose the Orbits they love. The presale is on June 15, 6pm CET. Allowlisted, 24 hours.

Allowlist: a snapshot of all Leegte's collections (except Coin and Wanderer) taken Saturday 13 June, 9am CET. Hold before then to qualify.

The exploration phase is now open. For a week visitors can explore the 1000 orbits and take notes.
Explore here.

After a week there will be a short presale window after which during Art Basel | Zero 10 the sale will be public. Orbits is collector curated, as only a limited amount of Orbits will be mintable of the total 1000 seeds.

Minting details including edition size and pricing will be announced at the end of the exploration phase.

ORBITS

Endless circular motions in nature are born from two sources. They are either guided by celestial motions, like the sun or moon or they are made by humans. Everything else dampens. And maybe what makes the natural repetitive motions so mesmerising is them being whispers from space. So when we trap endless loops, wind- and watermills, the steam engine, dynamos, the clock, the computer processor, it makes us divine.
Artificial motion kicks in at ten to twelve frames a second. In the 1830s, Plateau and Stampfer identified that rate as the threshold for the mind to construct continuity from discrete frames. It would lay the cornerstone of animation and film.

Orbits appears as a scene that has never existed. It recalls memories of science-fiction, a planet glimpsed through extreme signal degradation. It is a familiar motion but unplaceable in origin. A world existing only in the instant it is compressed, orbiting only because we are watching.

A 3D scene of spheres orbiting each other is generated and compressed in real time, ten times per second. There is no source file, no recorded footage. The world exists only in the moment the codec produces it, invoked and compressed into existence, frame by frame. The result sits somewhere between a space transmission and a science-fiction memory, a planet glimpsed through extreme signal degradation, a familiar motion but unplaceable in origin. The work recalls the Vasulkas, who treated the video signal itself as material, not recording the world but processing the medium live.

When viewed online, the work becomes interactive: dragging the camera shifts the scene, and with it the artifacts themselves.