This interview was conducted by Livia Klein.
Capsule of Julie Krakowski
You’re presenting your work as part of Capsules at Luxembourg Art Week. Could you start by telling me a bit about the project and how it came to be?
This project, Murmuration, extends two previous works: Souffle and Incantations. The first, Souffle, was presented at the Chapelle du Grand Hospice in Brussels in 2024, in collaboration with saxophonist Johannes Eimermacher. The work focused on the theme of breath. The second, Incantations, was shown at the CWB in Paris during the festival ((Interférence-s)) in 2024. These pieces were more protean, combining spun glass, soft materials, and field recordings. The installation also included a performative moment in collaboration with Florence Cats on the theremin.
How did these two earlier projects inform Murmuration? Did you see it as a continuation of their ideas, or as a departure toward something new?
Murmuration was first presented at Fondation BLAN as part of the Art Brussels OFF program in 2025. The installation was conceived specifically for that space. The title Murmuration refers to the shifting shapes formed by flocks of birds in flight. The multiplicity of elements allowed for different associations and readings depending on one’s perspective. It was conceived as an atmospheric, dreamlike landscape that existed somewhere between reality and reverie, filled with suspended hybrid creatures floating in air.
How does the context of showing in Capsules, a window display, resonate with your practice?
Presenting this project in a vitrine space was a challenge, since the original installation was designed for a larger environment where visitors could walk around it from all sides and even through it. What I’m showing here is an extract from Murmuration. For the version shown at Luxembourg Art Week, I worked particularly on the density of the elements. Interestingly, the Capsules vitrine actually offers two separate windows, allowing for two privileged viewing angles.
Working in this more condensed format, did the materials themselves take on a different presence for you?
I like to call the materials I work with soft materials—a term that relates to my initial training in textiles. In general, I enjoy combining them with more unusual everyday materials or objects. This principle of hybridization allows new meanings to emerge depending on the combinations. Glass is a particular passion of mine. It’s a fascinating material—both flexible when worked hot and fragile yet resilient once cooled.
How did your interest in glass begin? Was it something you discovered through experimentation or during a specific project?
I first approached this unique technique during a residency at Fondation d’entreprise Martell, where I collaborated with a glassblower. Since then, I’ve continued working with glass filaments, which I’ve used extensively in my recent projects.
You seem to enjoy working with materials that are partly transparent—there’s always something half-revealed, half-concealed. What draws you to that?
I’m very drawn to the idea that not everything should be fully visible. I like when the reading of a work leaves room for mystery and strangeness. When that sense of ambiguity arises, reflection and questioning begin.
Your installations seem to invite a certain slowness, almost a moment to breathe and look closer. Is this sense of time and stillness something you think about while working?
Yes, absolutely. My installations invite both release and attentiveness—to take time, to observe details. This dimension was already central to Origines at CACLB. The work there was in direct relation to the surrounding landscape, shifting light, and sound environment. Every instant, every change of light transformed the perception of the installation. It was only by taking time that one could perceive all its nuances. In the first presentation of Murmuration, the viewer became an integral part of the work. Every movement in the space caused subtle reactions—the suspended elements responded almost imperceptibly. These micro-movements created a contemplative, hypnotic state, leading the viewer toward inner, intimate spaces, away from the noise of the world.
There’s also a kind of intimacy in your installations, almost domestic at times. Do you think of this connection to the body or to everyday space as intentional?
In the first presentation of Murmuration, the idea was precisely for visitors to wander around and through the installation, at times coming very close to the pieces. I had also invited a performer to move within the installation, whistling, murmuring, and whispering among visitors, in resonance with the work. A sense of ambiguity emerged, as she was not immediately distinguishable from the audience. This proximity between the works, the performer, and the visitors created a hushed, intimate, and enigmatic atmosphere.
I feel that your practice often revolves around gestures of care, repair, and transformation. How did this sensibility first emerge in your work?
I can’t say exactly how this sensibility first appeared, but it’s clear that this dimension is present in my work…
That sense of care seems to extend beyond materials, too. How do you think about repair or healing in your work, not just on a material level, but also emotionally or socially?
In a forthcoming exhibition in 2026, to be held in a chapel in France, I plan to focus specifically on this notion. A chapel is an unusual place to host a contemporary art installation, and I want to explore that particular context, especially the relationship between invocation and the desire to heal. The idea of a bestiary will be the starting point, with creatures that exist between the animal and the vegetal, the human and the non-human. I want to explore the fragility of the living world and the ecosystem by moving away from a strictly anthropocentric perspective. The work will examine our relationship to ecology and the living, and I believe it can touch people emotionally while opening a broader reflection on society and our modes of being. More generally, my practice questions our relationship to magic, the unconscious, and care.
There’s something almost ritual-like in the way you describe this process of healing and transformation. Is that something you consciously think about when creating your installations?
Yes, they certainly carry an emotional charge. This ritual dimension was particularly present in the performance created with Florence Cats for Incantations. Some glass potion bubbles contained water that reacted to the electromagnetic field of her theremin. It was a truly intense moment…
What do you hope visitors will take away from encountering your work at Capsules?
That’s a tricky one… Perhaps their curiosity has been sparked enough to make them want to follow my next projects! (laughs)
