51���Ϲ���

2025 Cut/Paste Publication Feature

Dade Mann ’23 approaches his practice not just by taking pictures—but by waiting for that fleeting, yet striking, image. And when it reveals itself, he’s ready with his camera. He says, “I don’t go looking for photographs; I wait for them to come to me.”

Raised in his Native community in Wisconsin, Mann knew he would be a photographer from an early age, using his mom’s flip phone as one of his first cameras. After attending community college in Minneapolis, he transferred to 51���Ϲ��� with financial support from a merit scholarship and the Lac du Flambeau nation. He fell in love with the city, which he now calls home, and uses it as fuel for his photography.

In his practice Mann tries to balance intimacy with documentation and individual narrative with a broader social commentary. When photographing his own life and heritage, he lays claim to a space that’s often been denied or overlooked. His photos affirm: “I am here. I exist. I am still alive.” He acknowledges that photography, at its core, is often exploitative, but it’s also a tool for marking history. He walks a fine line of wanting his art to be seen on social media and other platforms, while also protecting his deeply personal experiences from becoming “just another image” in the vast sea of content.

As a street photographer, Mann knows there has to be trust with his subjects. Working on his senior project in his hometown, he almost started a bar brawl by shooting the goings-on inside. “People hate the flash,” he says with a smile. In the end, his thoughtfulness and care tend to allay his subjects’ suspicions, giving him the ability to show the truth in his images.

Today, Mann works for mentors Ethan Jones and Alec Soth in a studio where he can continue to refine his own vision. He also draws inspiration from Nan Goldin (b. 1953), a New York photographer and activist, and Ramon Muxter (1945–2007), a notorious lensman who roamed Minneapolis late at night.

Mann states his goal, “I don’t want my photographs to fall into a void and become invisible.” And he will continue to take risks in his artistic practice, hoping for just the opposite—greater visibility.