Your name
Nora Obergeschwandner
Place of birth
Vienna
Place where you live now
Vienna
3 words to describe you
observant, sensitive, melancholic
Why do you take pictures?
To not get stuck. To move outward without losing myself. I was afraid – so I started looking. Walking. Crossing my own lines. And then I started making images. It was never just about the photograph. It was about touching the world without being touched too quickly. I wanted to see what happens when you show yourself without explaining yourself.
Where do you get your inspiration?
In the noise. In the in-between. In sentences that end wrong. In light that doesn’t belong where it is. In songs that come too close. In what’s missing. I collect what’s left behind. From fog, from November... from things that don’t fit. Inspiration often comes from the side – rarely head-on.
Who are your influences?
People whose work leaves something open. Who don’t explain. Those who ask questions without looking for answers –or give answers without saying what the question was. To name just a few: Sascha Weidner, Nan Goldin, Michaël Borremans, Bowie, Tillmans –not as role models, more like distant voices showing me there are other ways.
What determines the subject matter you choose?
What I can’t let go of. I work from the gut, not from a concept. A feeling. A shadow. Often I only understand much later why I took a certain photo. I work intuitively, in fragments. Sometimes it takes months before I realize what I was actually searching for.
What impact would you like your art to have?
Nothing specific. But if someone pauses – if something lingers, a trace, a hum – then that’s enough. I don’t want to explain. Just to show that something is there. Maybe even a beginning. Maybe a sentence, a feeling, a small shift, an irritation. Something between the lines.
What artwork do you never get bored with?
I’m not attached to a single work. I’m drawn to those that change – depending on when and how you look at them. Music that grows quieter with the years, but closer. An image that suddenly wants to be read differently. Those are the kinds of works that stay with me –because they refuse to stay still.
Is there anything you want to add?
I don’t believe in final versions. Everything stays in motion. Sometimes I feel the most important things remain unspoken – and maybe that’s exactly where they belong.