In conversation with Jules Julien

You spent two years working closely with the Obama Foundation on this project and you mentioned President Obama himself provided input during the making of 'All Together'. Was his involvement more on a conceptual level, the vision, the themes, or did it also reach into the visual decisions? And were there moments where his input genuinely surprised you?

I met President Obama at several key moments throughout the creative process of the digital mural 'All Together'. When the Obama Foundation first contacted me two and a half years ago to invite me to create the work, the eleven themes had already been defined and approved by President Obama, as had the concept of the circular screen. They were looking for an artist who could bring the installation to life visually.

The first phase of the project focused on developing the overall creative vision and design. During this initial creative sprint, I had weekly meetings with the Obama Foundation team, Dr. Louise Bernard, the exhibition designers at Ralph Appelbaum Associates (RAA), and the UI designers at Work & Co. I regularly presented mood boards and visual concepts to communicate the direction I wanted to take. My role was to develop the creative and artistic direction of the project—from the overall design and colour palette to the visual language and motion.

After this first phase, I met with President Obama and Valerie Jarrett to present the project through a series of sketches. During that first presentation, President Obama immediately knew what felt right and what could be improved. Even when it came to the technical aspects of the screen, he had a remarkable understanding of its possibilities. He had a very clear vision of what he wanted the installation to communicate to visitors. He never questioned the overall concept or artistic direction, but he reacted instantly whenever a particular scene didn't fully align with his vision.

The last time I met him was for the presentation of All Together in the museum on the final screen. The only thing that surprised him was discovering that every single one of the more than one million dots had been placed and coloured by hand. He hadn't realised that nothing had been generated automatically. He was genuinely amazed by the process and by the level of commitment it required.

Over a million dots, placed and colored one by one by hand. How do you even begin something like that, what was the first day in the studio like when you started 'All Together'?

I worked as an art director and creative director for many years at DDB and Publicis in Paris before becoming a full-time artist.That experience taught me how to articulate ideas and structure a creative process, and it has remained an essential part of my artistic practice. Even today, I approach my work in the same way. I create stories in order to create artworks. I need a narrative—I have never been particularly interested in decorative art. I always want to say something.
Before starting a commissioned work of this scale, you have to make sure that everything has been thoroughly tested and validated before beginning the final artwork itself. Once the drawing starts, corrections are no longer really an option because they become incredibly time-consuming. When every dot is placed by hand, moving a single one means adjusting all the surrounding dots as well. That is why I spent the first six months developing the concept of the mural and thinking through every detail.

The very first step was to fully understand the purpose of the commission. That was my priority during the first days of the project. Then I wanted every scene to be approved, from the main characters to the landscapes and every secondary element. I applied the same level of precision to the colour palette, which consists of more than 200 colours carefully organised into different ranges.

Another important decision was that every dot should be exactly the same size. I think there is something meaningful about that—it resonates with the idea of democracy. Finding the right size was actually a highly technical challenge. The dots had to be as small as possible to allow for a high level of detail while still appearing as perfect circles on the final screen. Before starting the mural itself, I produced test drawings using that exact dot size to make sure everything worked.

The next step was to develop the motion and determine how the animation would behave on such a large circular immersive screen. How should the dots move? How should they come together to form images and then separate again? How would the visual language interact with the participatory part of the experience, where visitors are invited to add their names to the mural and feel that they are literally joining the dots?

To answer all these questions, I travelled to Chicago to test every aspect of the installation on a large prototype screen, almost the same size as the final one, which had not yet been built.

Once every element had been tested, refined and approved, I was finally able to begin drawing the finished artwork.

You’ve worked with dots before in earlier work. Was 'All Together' a continuation of that, or did this project give the dot an entirely new meaning for you? And looking at the result, does it open up new directions?

The dot is a recurring element in my work. It is a form that keeps coming back in different projects, although not always in the same way. It isn’t always drawn as a perfect geometric shape. In my Blackout series, for example, every dot is drawn by hand and none of them is perfectly round. I use the dot in different ways: sometimes as a graphic symbol, as in my installation No Man’s Land at the French Embassy in Tokyo; sometimes as a reflective surface, like the small mirrors in Narcisse; but most often I use it almost like a pointillist brushstroke, patiently drawing figurative images one dot at a time.

I love the simplicity of the dot. To me, it is the most fundamental natural geometric form. You find it everywhere in the universe, from the shape of planets to the structure of cells.

From the very beginning of the commission, both the Obama Foundation and I knew that I was capable of creating figurative images entirely by hand using dots. What they didn’t expect was that I would draw every single dot manually. I think they assumed I would rely on software for at least part of the process. No one imagined that I would place and colour every dot by hand, one after another.

They were very enthusiastic about that aspect of the work because it brings a strong sense of humanity to the mural. You can feel the emotion and the craftsmanship behind every drawing. In a way, the process itself becomes part of the artwork. It’s almost like a performance. A kind of 'Yes We Can', but on my own scale: Yes, I Can patiently place and colour more than one million dots by hand to create a drawing. If that dedication can inspire people and remind them of what is possible through commitment and perseverance, then it becomes another layer of the work. Creating is giving, right?

This was also the first time I had worked with dots of this particular size. They aren’t large, but they are large enough that they force you to move away from pure realism. That constraint was actually very interesting because it pushed me to simplify forms while keeping them expressive.

Working on landscapes was also something quite new for me. My personal work usually relies on much simpler, more minimal compositions. The same is true for colour. I generally use a very restrained palette, often even monochromatic. Here, I worked with more than 200 colours, and creating that entire chromatic range was both exciting and fascinating. It was necessary to different scenes, but it also gave the mural a vibrant, almost baroque quality. For me, that richness of colour became another way of celebrating diversity.

Your work usually exists as a still image. 'All Together' is interactive, animated, alive and displayed on an immersive circular screen that visitors can actually walk into. How did the work come to life technically, and who did you need to bring in to make that happen? Did the spherical format pose specific challenges for the way the images were built?

It was one of the most exciting parts of the project because animation was never an afterthought—it was part of the concept from the very beginning. I had never worked on an animated installation at this scale, although some of my previous works already included moving elements. From my very first presentation boards, the behaviour and movement of the dots were already defined.

I wanted the dots to behave like a murmuration of birds when they gathered together, and like fireflies when they moved individually. Looking at nature gave an obvious logic to the animation. The concept of the work is that each dot represents an individual, and together they form figurative images. The dots therefore had to feel alive—not like particles of dust carried by the wind, but like active beings with intention and purpose.

Using these references, I began by creating storyboards. The mural is composed of eleven different scenes, although only two or three are visible at any given moment. For the movement around the circular screen, I was inspired by the idea of a carousel, while the hidden area behind the visible part of the screen became almost like a nebula—a space where scenes dissolve, transform and prepare to reappear.

I worked for several months with Bryan Heisey at Cortina Productions on the motion design. We started remotely, testing every element one by one. How should a cloud move? A tree? How should the dots come together to form an image before flying apart again? At what speed? Along which paths? At what moment? We also had to consider the overall rhythm of the experience, making sure visitors had enough time to add their names to the mural and then recognise them within the animation. 

Later, we met twice in Chicago for two intensive weeks of work directly on the circular screen. Some ideas worked immediately, while others had to be refined or completely rethought. Animating and making interactive more than one million individual dots was an extraordinary technical challenge, and it was fascinating to watch Bryan develop the code that made it all possible. We continued refining the installation until just one week before the opening.

One of the most remarkable aspects of the circular screen is that it has no beginning and no end. The eleven scenes continuously appear and disappear within a seventeen-minute loop. Every visitor experiences the installation differently. Someone may stay for one minute, another for twenty or more, and because the screen completely surrounds you, it is impossible to see everything at once. Wherever you choose to look, something else is happening somewhere else. I like that idea. It makes every visit unique.

The installation was designed for everyone, regardless of age or nationality, with one central message: that the power to improve the world is already in our hands if we choose to come together. 

The final stage of the project was the music, which gives the installation its soul. I worked with Jeremy Bloom, who composed an original soundtrack for All Together. Our collaboration began with a conversation in which I shared the atmosphere I was looking for through a series of keywords, references and emotions. He sent me an initial composition, and after discussing it together he developed new ideas and alternative versions.

We met again in Chicago in April to work directly inside the installation. Surprisingly, everything came together in just two hours. We immediately understood each other, and the collaboration felt completely natural. I love the soundtrack he created—it truly brings the installation to life.

You’re a French artist, based in Amsterdam, making work for one of the most politically charged institutions in America. Did that distance help or complicate things?

I would say it helped. Being an outsider gave me a certain perspective. It is often more difficult to speak about yourself—or even to understand yourself—than it is to look at something from the outside. That distance gave me space and helped me approach the project with a certain emotional clarity.

At the same time, this work was created for a very broad audience. The themes it explores—health, education, climate change, community—are universal. They are not exclusively American concerns; they belong to all of us. One of the scenes, for example, shows people gardening together. I myself take part in a community garden on my street in Amsterdam alongside my neighbours. Experiences like that remind me that change often begins locally, through simple collective actions.

The installation comes at the very end of the exhibition dedicated to the presidency of President Obama and Mrs. Obama. It is located on the fifth floor, where the circular screen occupies almost the entire space. Within the narrative of the exhibition, it represents a moment of celebration for what has been achieved, but above all it is an invitation to look forward. Rather than encouraging nostalgia, it asks visitors to reflect on the role they can play in shaping the future. 

The mural is displayed beside one of President Obama’s quotes: 'I’m asking you to believe. Not in my ability to bring about change—but in yours.' I find that incredibly powerful. In a way, the installation extends that message. It is as if President Obama is passing the torch to the next generation of citizens, leaders and changemakers. 

We are all responsible for building the world of tomorrow. To me, that is the very definition of democracy.

Two years is a long time to live inside one project. Were there moments where you doubted it and what kept you going?

To be honest, I enjoyed every moment of it. It never felt like a burden or a source of anxiety. It was certainly intense, but I genuinely love working. 

Today, we are increasingly expected to produce everything in the short term. The pace of the world keeps accelerating—with social media constantly demanding new content, and now AI generating images and text in a matter of seconds. I believe that working over the long term is one way of resisting that frenzy. We need time to think, to live and to grow. 

Time has always been a fundamental component of my work. My creative process is deliberately slow because it forces me to think before I create. Being given the time to make a work like this is, in itself, an act of value and resistance. Time is probably the most precious thing we have, so giving your time to something—or to someone—is perhaps the greatest gift you can offer. 

Being able to devote more than two years to a single project was a privilege. My installations are often ambitious, but never on this scale. During those two years, I put almost everything else in my life on hold so I could fully immerse myself in the project. 

Outside the studio, I also spent a great deal of time learning more about the United States. I read History of the United States by Bertrand Van Ruymbeke, as well as all the books written by President Obama and Mrs. Obama. I also read novels and essays by American writers and thinkers such as James Baldwin, Martin Luther King Jr., Langston Hughes, Joyce Maynard, Nathan Hill and Stephen Markley. Looking back, those two years became a genuine immersion in American history, culture and society. I like to think of them as an encounter with the United States. 

Working so closely with such an exceptional team also gave me something that is quite rare as an artist: a sense of belonging. Most artists spend their days alone in their studios. I am very demanding when it comes to my work, so it was a privilege to collaborate with people who shared that same level of commitment and who were all striving towards something greater than themselves.

This commission often felt like an enormous puzzle waiting to be solved. At times, I felt like the child I once was, sitting on the floor of my bedroom, building with Lego bricks. There was the same sense of curiosity, concentration and joy. 

But I never really felt alone. Throughout the entire process, I kept thinking about the future visitors of the museum—what I wanted them to experience, what emotions I hoped they would leave with, how much hope and optimism I wanted the installation to convey. In a way, those future visitors were always present in my studio, even if only in my imagination.

The project also gave me the opportunity to step back from my own career and reflect on both my past work and what comes next. I think it is important, as an artist, to regularly remind yourself why you chose this path in the first place, and to make sure you never lose sight of it.

Art is one of the things that makes us deeply human. I believe artists have an important role to play in society.

The museum opens with work by Nick Cave, Jenny Holzer, Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Mark Bradford and Maya Lin among others, an extraordinary group. Does the company you’re in change how you see your own work?

It is both a source of humility and a commitment. When you are invited to exhibit alongside such renowned artists, and for an institution like the Obama Presidential Center, you naturally want to give your very best.

I am one of the emerging artists in this group, and also the only artist based in the European Union, which gave me a particular perspective and a unique position within the project.

One thing that struck me when I met several of the artists during a reception hosted by Theaster Gates at his studio on Chicago’s South Side—particularly Maya Lin, Carrie Mae Weems and Aliza Nisenbaum—was that, despite the diversity of our practices, we all seemed to share something fundamental: a deep love for humanity in all its strength and fragility, and the desire to express and transmit that through our work.

That, more than anything else, made me feel that I was in the right place.

Now that this chapter is closing, what comes next? Will you be returning to your own studio practice and can we expect new work at Bisou, maybe new prints?

During those two and a half years, I accumulated countless notes, sketches and ideas for my own work. Right now, I have so many projects in mind that I can’t wait to start. It is a very exciting moment. 

I like to think of each project as a prototype. In my practice, I always want to be the first person surprised by my own work. I need that feeling of discovery. For me, making art is a way of exploring both the world and myself at the same time. That is what makes my artistic practice so essential to who I am. 

As I work, I keep returning to certain recurring themes while also discovering new facets of them. And because I don’t believe my experiences are unique, I like to think that if something resonates deeply with me, it will probably resonate with others as well.

One thing is certain: new works will be coming to Bisou Gallery very soon.