Julie Major studied at the Royal Academy and has exhibited in London, Belgium, Germany and Spain.
My work has always been driven by personal, interior concerns. My starting point is usually an emotion I can't explain - a sense of love or longing, a need for perfection. These are the trophies of my inner life.
The materials I use are drawn from my past. Growing up in a family of women and dressmakers, I've come to make objects into three dimensions with a pattern, just as you would make an item of clothing. I cast them into resins and plaster to give them a harder quality. The softness becomes frozen
The first object I ever made was from the stripped sheets from my bed, the carpet from my family home and shelves and hooks and books I found at the Royal Academy. I made survival kits squashed into glass cases that were attached to the wall and this led me to where I feel happiest now, displaying objects on the wall, forcing the viewer to look at them at eye level and peer into them. They are held still to be examined.
They have become more abstract over time, as my need for perfection and order has become stronger. Some shapes repeat themselves but there is always a connection to the real. The circle becomes a stomach, a head, or a breast. A pillow or cushion becomes a shield, a torso, or a marital bed. Sometimes I start making a piece of work with just a feeling, no explanation but a sense of what I want to incorporate. A tightness, an inside, a sense of a cage, a necklace or collar that feels very uncomfortable.
Displayed on the wall, these objects feel to me like exhibits in a museum, a cataloguing of my inner life. They have an addictive, obsessive quality - struggling for order through folding, stacking, hoarding, or collating. Objects split in two, in pairs. Souvenirs from the journey of my relationships with others. Multiple objects that need placing in the correct pocket filed away and counted. My need for perfection and order - amidst chaos and entropy.
Sculpture where attraction and repulsion, the softness of felt and the sharp barbs of steel talons, co-exist. Moments of symmetry are held poised in a balance, teetering on the edge of breakdown. These sculptures speak of a need for perfection and order, in a world where love turns to hate and attraction invites repulsion.