From March 01, 2025 to March 31, 2025
This series began with a simple observation—a poppy flower, a poppy seed. Yet, each time I encountered them, images would surface in my mind, unbidden and instantaneous. It was as if every new sight folded into past impressions, merging with fragments of memory. This reflection was not deliberate but instinctive, a process beyond my control. I gradually realized that my act of seeing was not merely about the present moment; it was an entanglement of past, present, and imagined realities.
Poppies have long been symbols of remembrance, dreams, and fleeting beauty—yet their presence is often ephemeral, dissolving like a vision upon waking. From 2021 to 2023, I went around as much as possible, searching for different kinds of poppies. I found three varieties, each distinct in color—red, orange, and dark purple. Alongside them, I discovered two different types of seeds: one small and round like a tiny ball, the other narrow and almond-shaped. These variations deepened my engagement with the subject, as each encounter added new layers to my perception and understanding.
As I sifted through the photographs I had taken, this experience continued to shape my perception. The way I edited the images was deeply affected by these unconscious layers of memory and emotion. It was during this process that I began to understand Dukkha—the Buddhist concept that all things are transient, unsatisfactory, and ultimately illusory. Dukkha speaks to the impermanence of everything we perceive, the way things appear to be solid but are constantly shifting, dissolving, and reforming in ways we cannot grasp entirely.
In The Illusion of Poppies, forms emerge and fade, edges soften into shadows, and details blur into impressions of what they once were—or what they seemed to be. The title itself speaks to the dual nature of perception: poppies, both real and imagined, hold the weight of memory yet remain elusive, slipping between presence and absence. The sepia tones lend a sense of nostalgia, reinforcing the idea that even as we attempt to preserve an image, it is already slipping away, transforming in the mind’s eye.
As a series, it may seem to follow an order or sequence, yet I believe The Illusion of Poppies can begin with any image. The life cycle of the poppy is intertwined within each photograph—birth, bloom, decay, and renewal all exist simultaneously. Beginning and ending depend not on a fixed arrangement, but on the viewer’s gaze and how these images resonate within their own mind’s eye.
Through this interplay of perception, memory, and illusion, I invite viewers to consider the fragile nature of seeing: how each moment is a fleeting reconstruction, where reality is not fixed but fluid, shaped as much by what is before us as by what lingers within us.
Curator: Sandrine Hermand-Grisel
Julie Wang was born in China and has spent nearly equal parts of her life in China and abroad, living in Europe and the United States. She graduated from a medical school in China but chose to leave behind a career in medicine as she discovered a deep love for art, literature, film, and nature. Frequent moves during her childhood, following her parents’ careers, along with later experiences studying and living in various countries, shaped her open-minded worldview and appreciation for diverse cultures and the beauty of nature.
Over time, these influences became central to her artistic vision, with photography emerging as her most natural form of expression. Inspired by poems and paintings from different cultural backgrounds, Julie aims to capture moments that speak to the universality of human experience. Through her lens, she transforms the world around her into reflections of her thoughts and emotions, creating work that bridges cultural perspectives and celebrates the quiet beauty of life.
