¥

| wonder if the people who just crossed the street
are going to 7-Eleven? That guy didn’t signal at the
light... and that guy did the ‘Vancouver Manoeuver’
(what my friends and | call people who turn left
from the far right-hand lane grrrr)..._ | wonder if
this is a live feed? Was somebody watching me
from this seat when | came in?... | wonder if I'll rec-
ognize somebody? | feel sneaky, | am a voyeur. |
can feel my eyes glistening slightly with excitement.
“Hello, | see you.” | spy with my hidden eye....
“Hey,... something’s happening...” the images are
fading... “Is the ride over?”

Suddenly I’m looking at two images of myself sitting
on the middle stool in the gallery. “Il knew some-
body was taking my picture! When did | let my
guard down?” (Paranoia sets in.) Again | examine
the room for the black eye... nothing. | wish the
video would go back to the street corner... ...I face
myself. On the left image, | am still. On the right,
| see small white streaks of light that reveal my
chest inhaling and exhaling. The sound of the
breathing and heartbeat register in my mind again.
Are they live feeds too? Am | hearing my own
heartbeat? | hold my breath to slow the beat
down. | am self-conscious... | hope nobody comes
into the gallery right now... | wait... nothing hap-
pens. | move my arm and my mirrorred image on
the right moves her arm. | try it again, but this time
| move my leg. The woman on the screen moves
her leg... (It’s actually kind of interesting.) | move
more parts... (really interesting...) like | am a voyeur
watching myself. | am a scientist experimenting on
me, the lab rat. It is so bizarre to experience the
subjective and objective simultaneously. | feel vio-

| stand up from the chair and begin moving in big-
ger gestures, delighting again in the challenge posed
to reverse, flip and superimpose the images.... | am
a ghost, | have a tangible shadow. “Hey!” (the
images are fading again.) “Oh for Pete's sakel...”
(back to the street corner...) Figures, | was just
getting into it.

As one becomes accustomed to and then adept at
synthesizing the images, aspects of surveillance
surface again. However, the paranoid anxiety felt
earlier is now replaced with a scopophilic pleasure
(- to look at people with a controlling and curious
gaze.) The sense of power for viewers shifts with a

change in their position from in front of the lens to
behind it. But the power inherent in the gaze (aug-
mented by the observer's unseen position in the
gallery) is offset by the conceptual synthesis
required by viewers at each frame, distancing them
from fully engaging in their own visual pleasure.

With impeccable timing, just as viewers become
comfortable oscillating back and forth like a rotat-
ing magnet, pulled in by their desire and pushed out
by the mental task, Rokeby shifts the piece. By
using an algorithmic formula that combines time
and the motion inside the gallery as variables, the
connection to the surveillance camera outside
switches to one located inside the installation
space. Acting as a foreshadowing device, the cam-
era shutter is heard again, and viewers are sudden-
ly confronted by their own image on the split-
screen. Parameters set up earlier do not change:
On the left, one sees those objects in the room
which are still; on the right, those objects which are
moving (namely the viewer.) Paranoia returns, but
is quickly replaced by a more specific type of
scopophilia - narcissism, as observers turn their
controlling and curious gaze on themselves.
“Here, curiosity and the wish to look intermingle
with a fascination for likeness and recognition: the
human face, the human body, the relationship
between the human form and its surroundings, the
visible presence of the person in the world.”
(-Laura Mulvey) Identification with the screen
image is enhanced in Rokeby’s piece compared
with the identification spectators undergo with
characters in a film. If narcissism occurs when
there is an identification with the image, then iden-
tification here is much greater since the images pro-
jected are those of the viewers themselves.

continued on pg. 20

a3

@

I wonder if the people who just crossed the street
are going to 7-Eleven? That guy didn't signal at the
light...and that guy did the ‘Vancouver Manoeuver’
(what my friends and | call people who turn left
from the far right-hand lane grrr)... | wonder if
this is a live feed? Was somebody watching me
from this seat when I came in?... wonder if 'll rec-
‘ognize somebody? | feel sneaky, | am a voyeur. |
can feel my eyes glistening slightly with excitement.
“Hello, | see you.” | spy with my hidden eye..

“Hey... something’s happening..” the images are
fading... “Is the ride over?”

As one becomes accustomed to and then adept at
synthesizing th

images, aspects of surveillance
However, the paranoid anxiety felt

earlier is now replaced with a scopophilic pleasure

surface again.

¢ to look at people with a controlling and curious

) The sense of power for viewers shifts with a
change in their position from in front of the lens to
behind it. But the power inherent in the gaze (au
mented by the observer's unseen position in the
gallery) is offset by the conceptual synthesis
required by viewers at each fi
from fully en;

distancing them

Suddenly I'm looking at two images of myself sitting
‘on the middle stool in the gallery. “I knew some-
body was taking my picture! When did | let my
guard down?” (Paranoia sets in.) Again | examine
the room for the black eye... nothing. | wish the
Video would go back to the street corner... face
myself. On the left image,! am still. On the right,
I see small white streaks of light that reveal my
chest inhaling and exhaling, The sound of the
breathing and heartbeat register in my mind again.
‘Are they live feeds too? Am | hearing my own
heartbeat? | hold my breath to slow the beat
down. | am self-conscious... hope nobody comes
into the gallery right now... | wait... nothing hap-
pens. | move my arm and my mirrorred image on
the right moves her arm. | try it again, but this time
I'move my leg. The woman on the screen moves
her leg... (I's actually kind of interesting) | move
more parts... (realy interesting.) like | am a voyeur
watching myself. | am a scientist experimenting on
me, the lab rat. It is so bizarre to experience the
subjective and objective simultaneously. I feel vio-
lated and omnipotent... s this sado-masochistic?.
I stand up from the chair and begin moving in big-
‘ger gestures, delighting again in the challenge posed
to reverse, flip and superimpose the images.... am
a ghost, | have a tangible shadow. “Hey!” (the
images are fading again.) “Oh for Pete's sakel..
(back to the street corner...) Figures, | was just
getting into it.

With impe
comfortable oscillating back and forth like a rotat-
ing magnet, pulled in by their desire and pushed out

able timing, just as viewers become

by the mental task, Rokeby shifts the piece. By
using an algorithmic formula that combines time
and the motion inside the gallery as variables, the
connection to the surveillance camera outside
switches to one located inside the installation
space, Acting as a foreshadowing device, the cam-
era shutter is heard again, and viewers are sudden-
confronted by their own image on the split-

reen. Parameters

t up earlier do not change:

On the left, one sees those objects in the room
which are still; on the

moving (namely the vi
is quickly replaced by
scopophilia -

ht, those objects which are
er.) Paranoia returns, but
a more specific type of
arcissism, as observers turn their
controlling and curious gaze on themselves.
Jere, curiosity and the wish to look intermingle
with a fascination for likeness and rec
the human body.
between the human form and its surroundin
visible presence of the person in the world.
(-Laura Mulvey) Identification with the screen
image is enhanced in Rokeby's piece com
with the identification spectators under
characters in a film. If narcissism occurs when
there is an identification with the image, then iden-
tification here is much greater since the images pro-

human face, the relationship

those of the viewers themselves.

continued on pg. 20