NOART jumps on Epinal !


By breaking the rules and deforming the material, Noart has made « 10 years in the slammer ». Mysterious and fascinating, his exhibition in th Palace of La Lune en Parachute, reeducates us in our perception : a walk in the service of discovery and of the consciousness. Where have we buried our sense of substance ? What have we made of our space and of our time, any flight forward flattened by the weight of the present, any development shrunk by the necessity of our 2-room apartment ?

Certainly, time goes by : we know it, more than anything else. But do we really know how it passes, and what it arouses in passing ? Besides the form which he gives to it, Noart leaves it to the substance to teach us. This artist imitates nothing, yet he says everything. And it is only the execution that is to be admired.

By its rhythmic occupation of the spaces, under the roving glance of the spectator, a fresco, « dotted with clocks at work », comes alive and moves.

Such emotion, delicious and liberating, surges in us before these bottom less portholes, condemned by a mirror-effect to never be filled : excellently ans tactfully expressing infinity.

Far from any prudence, NoArt presents us objects inspired by human instincts which society has transformed into unavowable fantasies and into weaknesses to be chastised : « The automatic fucking machine », only by its naming, testifies it amply. This piece, with the look of a gun, arouses as much indignation as admiration. Henceforth, with our pondering, we collect emotions. And it is here that we experience all the resources of art.

Thus, beauty does not come without utility. That is why Noart, or Ar-naud to his close friends, exhibits designer furniture, tables ans desks with a likeness in technique and in mixed materials: aluminium, copper, glass.

Finally, this initiatory course ends with the « Mise en boîte » of the « Big Shots » of this world, reduced to the most absurd side of their personality, maybe the most revealing, we shall retort !

By means of an ironic scenography of things, sometimes tinged with a severe realism, Noart reveals his real talents as artist and author. And by taking modestly the « nurse’s box » he sends you, with so much fervour as generosity, the autograph for which you will ask him, undeniably.

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