The Architecture of Darkness: In Conversation With Julius Juul

We live in a time when sight is constantly demanded of us. Screens glow in our hands from dawn until the moment we drift to sleep, feeding us an endless cascade of fragments of other people’s lives. To “see” today often means to consume rather than to contemplate. The act of looking has become less about perceiving the world and more about scrolling through it, layered with content so abundant it threatens to erase the very experience of depth. What was once rare, has become ubiquitous. 
In this world of hyper-exposure, where all is witnessed, documented, and accessible at the touch of a button, sight itself is altered. Sight no longer guarantees knowledge. Rather, excessive seeing blinds, leaving us unable to notice subtlety, incapable of staying long enough to wrap our heads around meaning. Perhaps that's why the simple action of closing our eyes has been revolutionary. It is to move out of the endless staging of the world that is not only an escape but a resistance. To shut the eyes does not mean not to see but to see otherwise, to move into a space where vision is no longer outward but inward. It is here, in darkness and silence, that another perception is seeded.

“The imagination is a kind of electronic machine that takes its own images from the memory bank.”

— Italo Calvino, Six Memos for the Next Millennium (1988)

And it is here, precisely here, that we discover Eigengrau, the "inherent gray" of the human eye; a contradictory color seen when there is not a light. Not absolute black nor absolute void, but something softer, inward, something that only exists when there is nothing remaining to be compared against. But Eigengrau is not empty darkness; it is a field the mind will not leave blank. In its muted hues, imagination expands outward into entire worlds: corridors that turn in on themselves, vacant parks thick with silence, rooms that are intimate and yet somehow unnerving. These are reminders that even when we are alone, we are never truly alone, because the mind is forever borrowing against something larger than the self.

Sociologist Maurice Halbwachs observed that memory is always at least partially social. Even our most intimate memories are shaped by group formations: the culture we're born into, the myths we share, the stories told about and around us. That unsettling familiarity we experience in dreams may not be so much from our own minds but also from echoes of a shared imagination trying to break through our own.

To tell a dream in this context is to discover that it is never entirely yours. The strangest images, corridors, deserts, talking animals, slip easily into recognition by others. They belong as much to the collective as to the self. Each account adds to what could be thought of as a collective dream archive, an evolving map of images and motifs that reappear across time and across people. Halbwachs’s insight returns here: even in dreams, our imagination is structured by memories that are not solely our own. Archetypes and cultural myths filter through our unconscious, shaping visions we might believe are private but that speak in a language we did not invent. Perhaps this is why your dream feels strangely familiar to me, and mine to you. In Eigengrau, the solitary imagination becomes a shared terrain.

And it is this thought of Eigengrau, the color of mind's inner eye, that opens the way to a deeper conversation with Julius Juul, HELIOT EMIL Creative Director. His professional reputation for being able to negotiate rigorous structure and experimental minimalism, Juul uses fashion not as a voice but as a medium through which to approach cultural critique and poetic inquiry. His EIGENGRAU series is titled after the pale gray we perceive when we close our eyes, an effect that bears witness to the tension between presence and absence, visibility and invisibility, perception and imagination.

Through architectural silhouettes, monochromatic layering, and diplomatic balances of texture, the collection takes an inner, virtually unseen experience and makes it physical and visible. Simple and also tortuous, EIGENGRAU collapses boundaries between form and function, art and utility. Behind appearances, though, EIGENGRAU is also an invitation: to remain stationary, to gaze inward, to rediscover what so often goes unnoticed inside and outside of us.

Simone Lorusso: Julius, thank you for being here and for graciously taking the time to share your point of view with us. Your work always seems to fill the gap between the visible and the invisible, the functional and the poetic. To start our conversation, I would like to ask: What does seeing mean to you today, in a world with too many images and with continual visual stimulation? How do you approach vision, not only as perception but as concept, in your creative process?

Julius Juul: Seeing today is about awareness rather than more input. We are surrounded by images, so real vision becomes about focus and intention. In my work, I try to reduce rather than add. To create space where perception feels active again, not passive.

SL: In today’s society, we are overwhelmed by visual content: screens, feeds, images at every turn. How does EIGENGRAU challenge or respond to this constant overstimulation?

JJ: Eigengrau is about stepping into a space that resists overstimulation. It is not about adding another image to the noise but about creating a moment of pause. The colour itself is the darkness seen with closed eyes, a shade that exists only in perception. I found it fascinating to explore how this idea could strip away distraction and become something grounding. In a way, the collection is a counterpoint to the flood of visuals. It asks you to engage with presence rather than spectacle.

SL: The pieces merge strict silhouettes with softened tones, almost like balancing control and vulnerability. How do you translate an abstract perception like Eigengrau into a wearable form?

JJ: It began with the tension of clarity and blur. Eigengrau is a colour that feels both familiar and intangible, so I wanted the clothing to reflect that paradox. The silhouettes are precise and controlled, almost architectural, but the treatment of surfaces introduces softness. Materials were developed to feel muted yet alive, using depth in textures rather than obvious colour shifts. It is about finding a harmony between sharpness and something elusive, so that wearing the piece feels like stepping into that perceptual space between the real and the imagined.

SL: Your work often plays with the boundaries between function and expression. In this collection, how do you see fashion acting not just as clothing but as a medium of introspection?

JJ: For me, fashion is not only about what you wear but what it evokes. Eigengrau is a state of seeing without seeing, and I wanted the pieces to invite that same reflection. Wearing them is less about showing something to others and more about how they affect your own perception, how they shift the space you inhabit internally.

SL: You’ve spoken about sustainability as a core value. With EIGENGRAU, you introduced TEXNIC, a material born from recycled battery separators. How does this collaboration reflect your philosophy of turning waste into potential?

JJ: TEXNIC is about transformation. Something that once served one of the most industrial purposes, separating the cells of a car battery, is given a second life as fabric. For me this is a way of demonstrating that innovation does not have to come from inventing the new but from reimagining the overlooked. It is an exercise in finding beauty where it is not expected. Industrial elegance at its purest.

SL: The concept of Eigengrau is tied to individual perception, yet your collection speaks to a shared, almost universal inner experience. How do you navigate the tension between the personal and the collective in design?

JJ: Perception is personal, but the fact that we all see Eigengrau makes it collective. Design works in the same way. I start from my own interpretation, but once the piece is worn it becomes part of someone else’s narrative. That tension is not something to resolve, it is something to embrace.

SL: Minimalism can often be mistaken for simplicity, but your approach seems to reveal complexity through subtle layers and textures. What role does restraint play in your creative process?

JJ: Restraint is essential. It is easy to add, but more difficult to hold back until only what is necessary remains. Within that discipline, every detail has weight. Complexity emerges not from excess but from precision.

SL: In an age where everything is archived and endlessly visible, do you think fashion can still preserve mystery: the unseen, the in-between?

JJ: Yes, and it must. Mystery is what creates desire, what makes you want to return to something again. Eigengrau is unseen yet experienced, and that is the type of energy I hope to preserve in the work. Fashion should not reveal itself all at once. It should unfold slowly, leaving space for curiosity.

SL: HELIOT EMIL often intersects with other cultural forms: art, sound, architecture. Where do you see the future of fashion going: remaining within its own boundaries, or dissolving into a broader multidisciplinary language?

JJ: I think fashion has already moved beyond its own boundaries. Clothing is only one layer of expression. The way a sound resonates, how a space frames an experience, how a brand image is kept in memory, all of these shape how we perceive fashion. For me the future lies in dissolving categories, in creating universes rather than products. It is not about a jacket or a pair of trousers alone, it is about the total atmosphere they belong to. Virgil once said. Spend your time designing the candle or the room where in the candle sits.

SL: Finally, if Eigengrau is the color of inner vision, what do you hope people “see” when they experience this collection; both in the garments themselves and in the larger world they inhabit?

JJ: I hope they see themselves. Eigengrau is not something external, it is something that comes from within. The collection is an invitation to pause, to notice the in-between moments that are usually overlooked. If the pieces can make someone feel more connected to their own perception, and through that, more aware of the world around them, then they have served their purpose. From presence to purpose.