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No: 102,  Septembre - Eylül - September 2018

Dant, Nora

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Nora Dant would have liked to be a painter. Or a pilot. Doing medicine or the Arts Déco. Then, as if it wasn’t enough, there have been thwarted loves, the army, and the melancholy of Brest.

The wandering of Nora Dant was born in ecstasy and tears, in frustration and desire. Constraint offered freedom. With his black socks and a quote of Kerouac following him like the most loyal of dogs, Nora Dant tirelessly walks the urban space, the darkest corners of the psyche and the petticoats underneath. An endless idealist, yet above all an endless snooper, he seeks to reveal the brightness of the in-between, the boundary and its deviances. Frontiers are made to be crossed and the institution, guarantor of a certain moral and social comfort, questioned.

The rigid frame of photography organizes this chaos, whilst using black and white underlines its brutality. When he concedes to abstraction, the research for movement, colour and material betrays the boiling of an uncompromising and indignant mind. Nora Dant is an intellectual punk who will insult you to say “I love you” but can be introduced to your parents. An intellectual and austere punk, never far from a skateboard, and he can be amused by the slightest thing. A guy who serves neither God nor Master, he does however, have a few slaves within reach.

If Nora Dant had a little sister, we may have been left in peace; at the expense of the unfortunate sibling (no sister likes seeing a sadistic brother depraving her pretty blond dolls). Things being what they are, we just have to let him do his stuff.