GNOG’s primary function is that of an audiovisual experiment. As such, graphics and sound are of paramount importance. While the simplicity of the audio and visuals produces a hefty percentage of the game’s overall charm, both aspects are fine-tuned to work in tandem to produce an evocative experience.
In terms of the visual component, this is thanks to the art style instead of any particular technical achievement. Its cohesive, uncomplicated use of simple colors and simple patterns are a perfect fit for whatever the game is attempting to communicate at any given time. This is hugely important, since GNOG has no interest in direct communication. Text and voice are both almost entirely absent. What’s interactive and what isn’t is denoted by a simple change in the object’s color (and, for that matter, a lack thereof). I would imagine that GNOG is something to behold in VR; alas, I lack the hardware required.
GNOG’s audio complements its visuals perfectly; it’s just as effective as it is in games like Sound Shapes and 140. When you interact with something, you always get some sort of feedback – for better and for worse. If you do something right, the sound will unambiguously let you know; same for when you do something wrong. But even when you’re not doing anything, the sound is essentially matching the values of whatever's displayed on the screen; it’s this synergy that makes GNOG special.