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Noémie Lantil

Painter

Recent years have seen the return of the painting, long set aside in favor of disciplines more "innovative", "technology" or "interactive"; it is however not endangered. Painting has always been and will always be a special place of creation, by the uniqueness of its "re" ssentir. It is "by" and "in" way. And that is what we are talking sense, sensuality, it has only to lay eyes on the paintings of Noémie Lantil, to be sure; here everything is a call for sensual stimulation. Portraits of the great naked, his works first fanning the look, the desire of the viewer, then they ignite. His paintings are coaxing, adorned with gold sheets, patterns intoxicating curves that meet these other curves, those of the fall of kidneys in a languid woman, like large odalisque that people have always been the imagination of men. Men she leaves neither indifferent nor left, since the "crunches" the portraitise, trying to capture an essence. First one of its models with which she weaves a crucial relational link to his eyes, then under the yoke of his brush something less real but infinitely more carnal: what she calls "the men and women of today "the ubersexuels. It thus tries to register, to fix on the canvas, the moving, the question at the center of many books and many current debates "? What being a man or a woman today" But here, exit the battle and the war of the sexes, men and women share the same planet as these paintings share the same wall, nestled against one another, and it is in the uniqueness of their gender they to meet and complement each other better. Before they take, are displayed, beyond simple cases where we wanted them to enter. This is probably why in the paintings of Noémie Lantil, the brushwork is so free, so expressive, almost rococo, baroque, set in gold as icons, portraits kinds of ideals Portraits, that for some time, it disorients, including them in a more humane world: ie the urban fabric, the dresses so that those which she made her pattern. In the streets or on the banks of the Canal Saint Martin, they are no longer parent knows, this city dress or simply live their presence strangely "moving." A.Pitault