Hallucinatory journey through shifting maze of imaginary worlds

An alphabet of writhing tadpoles and globules, blots and worms crosses the paper, an underwater language of indecipherable signs. Is that a comma? Is this an octopus? Looking up, I notice that some of this stuff has broken free of the surface of the framed drawing and floated up to the ceiling, where it is trapped between the wall and the skylight, like a drifting tangle of seaweed.

- Adrian Searle

There is something hypnotic and even hallucinatory about many of Richard Wright's images, with their wealth of abstract detail, their shifts in tempo and approach. His art asks you to pay close attention. Surprisingly, this is the largest exhibition Wright has had in the UK since winning the Turner prize in 2009. It is worth the wait.

Wright's weird landscapes and abstract patterns, with Rorschach-like unfoldings and mirrorings, are so compelling I lose myself, time and again, in his imaginary and constructed worlds, his plays with form and formlessness. My eye goes for a swim in them. Looking at Wright's work is one thing, describing it another.