Visual media penetrates our everyday existence in our present society. There is at least one television in most households, new films are constantly being played at movie theaters and advertisements plaster the urban landscape. In the majority of these visual penetrations, the accosted is meant to watch, experiencing the medium as a viewer. However, there are devices and systems of visual material that are designed in order to observe and catalogue the social environment, becoming a viewer of society. These cameras developed as a means of monitoring public and private domains for the sake of security and control purposes. Closed-circuit television (CCTV) is viewed or recorded video material that is not broadcast and became increasingly popular in governmental and business use in the last twenty years. The proliferation of the ever-omnipresent cameras is primarily due to both an essential and developed need for security and protection. They are used for monitoring of valuables, property and more appropriately for this discussion, human individuals.
Since the rather rapid increase of CCTV, the debate concerning it’s overwhelming surveillance has struck a chord with the public with citizens arguing on both sides. Many people feel that surveillance is an appropriate and useful tool for both law enforcement and business institutions in diverting crime and cataloguing evidence if need be. Yet, the opposite perspective argues that surveillance cameras have become a means of social control and intimidation of power, invading privacy and Fourth Amendment rights. I will concede that each side of the debate is correct to a certain degree, but on the whole most citizens do not recognize or are concerned with the daily recording of themselves in society. The most negative result out of these arguments is the development of conspiracy theories concerning the government’s use of visual material and intention’s behind the increase in video surveillance. Whether or not these suspicions are true it perpetuates ignorance toward the real technology and understanding of video surveillance’s role in society.
Many artists’ recontextualize social and cultural issues in order to examine the meaning and in the process usually provoke new insight as well as educated debates surrounding the issue. Works involving the issue of video surveillance in the public sphere is of no exception. By appropriating the visual medium, artists draw attention to how the technology is used and new attitudes to what it means for them and society at large. Many of the most intriguing and thought provoking pieces are concerned with interaction between the spectator and the surveillance video. These artists highlight the system of surveillance in everyday human existence by integrating character elements, entertainment qualities and user involvement in their pieces. Although the artistic works to be discussed in this paper do not completely answer or discount theories concerning video surveillance, they do open up a dialogue of interactivity, seeking a communication between the technology and those being watched. Instead of staying ignorant or developing a fear of video surveillance, these works of art cultivate education by creating an interaction with the technology and acknowledgement of presence.
One approach to surveillance taken by Dutch artist Harco Haagsma humanizes the video camera, creating a behavior model of interaction. Haagsma’s installation piece, Biological System: Vilno (1997) is an intersection of science fiction and reality, in that the camera literally reacts to movement, following unsuspecting guests as they enter a room. The camera and motion sensors are attached to the end of a flexible articulated arm that hangs from the ceiling, perceiving every visitor who enters the room. The captured image of each person is simultaneously projected on four monitors that are situated in corresponding corners of the room. The filming of individuals does not conform to any construct, but instead the camera angles are very extreme, focusing on the museum visitors in many positions. This leads to an interaction of the camera, so named Vilno, as possessing personality traits or perception of the robotic camera as a living creature. What is more is that all the wires and electronic pieces are exposed leaving no concealment of technology and again emphasizing the innards or skeleton of a living thing. The most important concept of this piece that can be attributed to the response of the camera to motion is how the person interacts with the piece. Instead of avoiding the camera or separating themselves from their image on a monitor, Haagsma’s piece cultivates responses by both participants and the camera system. He explains “I like by work to interact…if there is a camera without a person behind it, this makes us believe there can’t be any bad intention”. This interaction is in opposition to how people normally respond in society with surveillance video, whereas most just disregard the presence of cameras and definitely do not approach a symbiosis with the technology. Yet, in this piece, the camera is a counterpart to the human and “cannot exist without our attention”. Instead of the camera fulfilling the role of security which has a human watching on the other end of the device, Vilno “seeks contact, seeks dialogue” as a friendly intrusion where the viewer knows what and who is looking at them, especially since they are looking right back in the camera. Moreover, the piece emphasizes the difference from the one-way direction of watching in CCTV by promoting an engagement with the technology in the small space while eliminating the fear of penetration by an unknown source.
Another piece that utilizes the technology of video to create a more open and friendly space of surveillance is Camille Utterback’s interactive program Abundance (2007). The piece was commissioned for the city of San Jose, California by ZERO1—The Art and Technology Network and transformed the city hall plaza into an interactive social space. A camera was placed atop the dome of the city hall, capturing the movements of individuals in the plaza and then an animated generation was projected back onto the three-story rotunda as an abstract reflection of these movements. At night, the building became a canvas of brightly colored lines and shadows that mirrored the paths and bodies of individuals interacting not only with the camera but also each other in the public space. The acknowledgement that the camera is recording and reflecting your movements could be seen as intrusive, a widely discussed opinion associated with surveillance video, but Utterback’s piece inspires a creativity relationship. By providing a visual space of recording temporal movements and surveillance, Abundance “became a chance encounter with an unexpected and ethereal piece of art”. The piece encouraged interaction and really was not animate unless there was a relationship of interaction. Furthermore, this piece reinforces the difference with CCTV’s solo vision and presence as fostering disengagement and increasingly, suspicion. Whereas Utterback’s work engages a binary public space of human interaction and surveillance video technology in order to create a temporal piece of artwork. As Mike Davis comments that “surveillance cameras are universal ornaments on every building” in the social sphere, this piece demonstrates that artistic involvement cannot only reappropriate the space but also the image.
Julia Scher is an artist who has been investigating the emotional and social relationship to video surveillance for over twenty years, creating many installation pieces that represent a reflection of video security systems. Interestingly enough, Scher is a licensed installer of security equipment and fully understands the industry, installing complex video surveillance exhibits for museum visitors. One such installation is her multi-project series, Security By Julia, an elaborate design of security systems that overwhelm the participant audibly and visually. By entering the installation, a participant will actually experience an apparent non-stop risk reduction facility. Scher utilizes a loudspeaker that repeats phrases of reassurance such as ‘don’t worry, don’t worry. Please proceed’ and multiple rooms filled with video monitors that may or may not be filming real or staged occurrences within the installation. Video cameras are prevalent throughout the staged facility, lining hallways and recording visitors’ presence which is then viewed on a monitor in other rooms as either live or delayed footage. To give the piece an even more relevant feeling there are also individuals appearing as security guards patrolling the controlled space. All this detail creates an “emergent world…[that] its interactive users would rather undo or escape” do to the constant watchful eye of the cameras, video monitors and security guards.
Although Scher recontextualizes the security system as a parody of power through the choice of the color pink for uniforms and the facility itself as well as the overtly ridiculous loudspeaker announcements such as ‘prepare for anal probing’, participants do feel the overwhelming penetration of a known and unknown source. Those individuals become both the watchers and those harassed in the facility, again integrating a binary mode of interaction in the piece. In this reflected world of surveillance, viewers are subjugated to a constant barrage of monitoring. This may be an exaggeration of modern public space, but Scher is commenting on the prevalence of control with video surveillance technology as well as highlighting the “greatly desensitized view of…visual privacy”. These participants are able to interact with a reflection of realistic issues with concern to surveillance in modern practice, yet, the piece is asking for the acknowledgement of the technology. Moreover, the multiple installations of Security By Julia is alluding to an increase understanding of the system, a thought exemplified by Andrew Ross’s assertion that “technology must be seen as a lived, interpretive practice for people in their everyday lives”. By creating a mock facility of surveillance, Julia Scher’s installation may provoke insights on the prevalence of video monitoring in society and a need to understand it, instead of ignorantly accepting conspiracy theories.
A less dominating style of video surveillance artwork, but just as compelling with interaction elements is that of Canadian artist, Janet Cardiff, who uses the indefinite space of the Internet to highlight the social issue. Cardiff with the help of a sponsorship from the Vancouver Art Gallery, created a fictional security guard named Laura that posts a diary, audio clips, photos and video segments of what she witnesses at her job. Beyond that, there is a live footage feed from multiple cameras at the Vancouver Art Gallery that any visitor can freely control with the touch of a mouse. This space created for the piece is located at http://www.eyesoflaura.org and the camera can be commandeered twenty-four hours a day. Although the piece is an allusion of a real person experiencing security issues, it opens up a role that can be fulfilled by any visitor of the website. Every person visiting the website becomes Laura, literally logging in with an ID and password and experiencing the seduction of watching. “The live camera with its ability to spy on unsuspecting pedestrians proves so addictive and powerful” that Cardiff is showcasing the control of monitoring as well as voyeuristic pleasures. This interaction of control with the camera becomes extremely important in allowing a visitor the opportunity to possibly understand a meaning of watching through surveillance video. It also takes on a dual significance of appropriating our culture’s obsession with watching and attitudes toward those unknown individuals on the opposite end of CCTV operations. The controlling factor arouses conflicting attitudes toward those being watched and ones’ own role or identity. Yet again, this piece conjures up the idea that we are all simultaneously watching and being observed. Dennis Bailey asserts in his discussion of society issues “When it comes to cameras in public…it may even be the case that there isn’t anyone manning the controls…I’d expect that of the millions of cameras in the United States, many, if not most, do not have a human being hidden behind the monitor”. This may or may not be speculation, but it is an example of how citizens are really unaware, uneducated or outright prevented from knowing the truth. However, in the case of Janet Cardiff’s piece there is at least one known appropriation of vision.
The debate over the proliferation of video surveillance in everyday existence is a heated argument with extreme opinions on both sides, yet there must be reasonable solutions and knowledge. As we stand today, there seems to be no end in sight to the obsession with security and control in many spaces including: private, federal and public. But this fixation with recording all cannot be only attributed to law enforcement alone as an encroachment on privacy and citizen’s rights. As a society, we too are motivating a new visual environment where all is witnessed and catalogued. The popularity of reality television, obvious addiction toward celebrities, video blogs, personal digital cameras and heaps of visual media consumes our very lives. Indeed there are reasons to believe that ‘Big Brother’ is monitoring us in an alarming way and for some unknown purposes, but before we begin to shout accusations, shouldn’t we consider our role in manifesting this culture by perpetuating mainstream media? Educating each other and ourselves about the technology and prevalence of surveillance is only the tip of the iceberg. Society must reconsider their role, as well as the issue of surveillance, and one inventive way is through artists’ representations of realistic concerns.
Dorte Zbikowski, “Harco Haagsma,” in Ctrl [Space]: Rhetorics of Surveillance from Bentham to Big Brother, ed. Thomas Y. Levin, Ursula Frohne, and Peter Weibel (Graz, Austria: The MIT Press, 2002), 302.
Camille Utterback, “Abundance, Camille Utterback, 2007,” Camille Utterback.
http://www.camilleutterback.com/abundance.html
Andrew Ross, “The Killer Application,” in Julia Scher: Always There, ed. Caroline Schneider and Brian Wallis (New York: Lukas & Sternberg, 2002), 31.
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