Surveillance and Performance in Norman Eberstein
by
Sara French

BA Honours (Art and Art History) University of Windsor, 2007
Windsor, Ontario, Canada

A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULLFILLMENT OF THE
REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
MASTER OF APPLIED ARTS
in
VISUAL ARTS
EMILY CARR UNIVERSITY OF ART + DESIGN

2011

© Sara French, 2011

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Abstract
The central investigation of my practice lies in reconsidering surveillance through
performance art by subverting its role in the everyday and questioning its reliance on
technology. This paper introduces my visual art process and describes how the project
Norman Eberstein is manifested in a gallery.
This body of work suggests that the concept of surveillance is open for
interrogation:
Can altruism be reconciled with surveillance?
Does technology create safe spaces?
Is surveillance necessary?
These queries reflect critiques on surveillance written by Matt Hern, John E. McGrath,
Michel Foucault, Clive Norris and Gary Armstrong. Referring to their texts, I trace the
proliferation of surveillance and the excessive production of technological devices in
public and private spaces.
My practice is multi-faceted, simultaneously manifesting elements of
performance, drag, craft, drawing, writing and video. Within these medias I have
developed an experimental methodology, in which the performance of surveillance is
core.
Norman Eberstein is an ongoing series of performances and body of work in
which I use a persona to re-identify myself in the guise of surveillant. The performance is
the process that creates the work itself. This is enacted through the role of a security
guard in training, the persona Norman Eberstein, who finds himself subsumed in certain
settings that he is compelled to guard and document.

iii
In discussing works by Marcel Duchamp, Jill Magid, Bernadette Corporation,
Mierle Laderman Ukeles, K8 Hardy and Wynne Greenwood, I will demonstrate how key
concepts and methods in these works speak to my practice.
Though my work is informed by the history of performance art, it is rooted in an
experimental process in which performance is a method, and its fruits are valid not only
as documentation, but as art. I’m interested in performativity as a process that feeds a
range of experiences in galleries and public spaces. To frame this idea, I will specifically
refer to the catalogue and essays from the exhibition Not to Play with Dead Things. Like
many of the artists in the exhibition, my work is as invested in the attendant objects and
relics as it is in the performance itself.

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Table of Contents
ii

Abstract

iv

Table of Contents

v

List of Figures

vi

Acknowledgments

vii

Quotation

1

Introduction

2

Chapter 1, The Moniker

3

Chapter 2, Becoming and Being the Persona

9

Chapter 3, Butler and Queer Theory

12

Chapter 4, Methodologies

19

Chapter 5, Trials

23

Chapter 6, Surveillance: A Culture Framework

32

Chapter 7, The Bookworks of Jill Magid and Bernadette Corporation

36

Chapter 8, Exhibition

43

Conclusion

45

Works Cited

48

Works Consulted

51

Appendix

52

Glossary

v

List of Figures
2

Figure 1: Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Performance at Art Bank.
3HRS, December 17, 2010. Photo courtesy of Heidi Naatagaal.

4

Figure 2: Sara French, Norman Eberstein’s ID Card. 2010. Drawing. 2 ¼” x 3 ½”
(actual size).

5

Figure 3: Sara French, Norman Eberstein’s Fake Security License. 2010. Painting.
3 ½ ’’ x 2” (actual size).

15

Figure 4: Sara French, Logbook. 2010. PG 28 of 53. 4” x 5 ½”.

16

Figure 5: Sara French, Logbook. 2010. PGS 53. 4” x 5 ½”.

21

Figure 6: Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Image from Windsor Star.

16

Figure 7: Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Image from /A\ Channel.

23

Figure 8: Sara French, Panopticon. 2010. Drawing. 4” x 5 ½”.

32

Figure 9: Sara French, Image taken on a construction site in Vancouver, BC.
2011. Cell phone photo.

39

Figure 10: Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2011. Performance at Peace Arch
Border Crossing in Surrey, BC. Photo courtesy of Lois Klassen.

43

Figure 11. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2011. Film still from Peace Arch
Border Crossing, Surrey, BC. Courtesy of Brynna Childs.

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Acknowledgments
I would like to graciously thank my supervisor Justin Novak, for his dedicated
engagement in my project. Also, I would like to acknowledge my teachers, Joy James,
Glen Lowry, Randy Lee Cutler, Ben Reeves, Henry Tsang, Karolle Wall and Grace
Partridge. This paper also acknowledges the support of Lois Klassen, Broken City Lab
Collective, University of Windsor, Lee Rodney, Iain Baxter, Tim Swaddling, and Norma
Simpson. In addition, I’d like to ultimately thank my parents, Patricia Connon and
Douglas French as well as my brothers, Nils, Leon, and Nathan French.

vii

Reena stands there with a gold disc on each lapel like all the other guards. They
look like toy soldiers, porters, bell-boys, 19th century things, something snazzy but
depressed, controlling yet puppet-like, serving. Serving the world, the museum, the
art works. Serving it up. Their own nothingness, wrapped in a funny costume. A bit
scratchy too. All polyester. I love these guards! Waiting, waiting, observing. Being
magnificently bored. Bearing boredom. What a job! She is not happy, not sad, not
nothing. Un-useful servant. You don’t need to demonstrate business in that job, but
deliver cool static. (Bernadette Corporation 4)

1
Introduction
Norman Eberstein is a security guard in training. He is unpaid, illegally licensed,
noninsured, and self-taught. His ambitions are to protect people with utmost altruism and
benevolence. While on guard, Norman Eberstein chronicles his observations, thoughts,
feelings, and queries. In the pages that follow, I describe how I came to adopt the persona
of Norman Eberstein and how the evolution of my performance practice has grown.
In this paper, I distinguish between Norman Eberstein, the persona, and Norman
Eberstein, italicized, an ongoing series of performances and the body of work that it
generates.
Norman Eberstein, the installation is manifested by various means. I craft
materials to be employed in performance, I assume the persona, and I utilize a collection
of objects, photographs or video that serve to archive or document the work. Norman
Eberstein can be experienced as an installation in the gallery, but Norman Eberstein is the
work’s purest form.
To contrast the excessive use of technological devices, systems, and constructs in
our public and private spaces, I cultivate an intuitive process to interrogate the concept of
surveillance. The work applies Do It Yourself and craft techniques to de-construct the
established aesthetics of security. As an absurd and naïve gesture it prompts a reevaluation of surveillance as it continues to play a significant role in our daily lives.

2

Figure 1. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Performance at Art Bank. 3HRS,
December 17, 2010. Photo courtesy of Heidi Naatagaal.

Chapter 1, The Moniker
The title of the work, Norman Eberstein, was created from the conflation of
names of people who have influenced my practice. ‘Norman’ is the middle name of my
eldest brother, Nils Norman French, a major in the Canadian military. On his last tour of
duty he planned the engineering operations in support of Canada's effort to bring peace
and stability to Afghanistan. The ‘Eber’ is taken from the androgynous anarchist writer,
Isabelle Eberhardt, who fought as a vigilante against the colonialist powers in North
Africa between the 20th and 21st centuries, while living as a transient explorer and writing
stories of her travels. Finally, the ‘Stein’ is derived from St. Edith Stein, born 1891, a
feminist philosopher and atheist who became a nun and was canonized for saving the life

3
of a young girl. It is particularly significant that these three individuals, French,
Eberhardt, and Stein, dedicated their lives to saving people and have all practiced as
published writers. This body of work, including performance, objects, and video, has
been greatly informed by their journeys and texts.
The process of naming Norman Eberstein is indebted to the artists K8 Hardy and
Wynne Greenwood. I adopted this specific tactic from their collaborative video work,
New Report, 2005, in which the artists are cast as anchormen reporting the live news on
WKRH (“Pregnant with Information”) as Henry Stein-Acker Hill (Greenwood) and Henry
Irigaray (Hardy). The names are derivative of key feminist writers, Luce Irigaray, Patricia
Hill Collins, Joan Aker, as well as St. Edith Stein.
This seemingly patchwork of references might be read as a playful conflation of
disparate influences that are humorous, contradictory, biographical and nostalgic. The
moniker, Norman Eberstein, is however, also a construct that reflects important
allegiances that I hold as an artist. The composition of the name mirrors Norman
Eberstein’s own altruistic ideas, serving to foreground his heroic deeds. Though
audiences would not be aware of the more personal references appropriated into the
moniker, they are an important part of my intuitive process.

Chapter 2, Becoming the Persona
Norman Eberstein was initially conceived because of a need for a guise and a
release from my own identity. I dress up because it allows me to adopt the role of
surveillant. If I remained myself, I would not be able to construct his narrative. It is this
performance of surveillance that allows me to delve into its constructs and systems, and

4
to better understand how they are used and what they do.
Norman Eberstein’s facial props, uniform, and ID cards gave birth to his
existence. These crafted elements shape the persona that I channel through a series of
steps. In sequential order, I don a handmade uniform, bind my breasts with packing tape,
insert shoulder pads, apply a mustache made from my own hair, enhance my eyebrows
with face paint and gel my hair back. I also wear costume spectacles and carry his handpainted identification cards.

Figure 2. Sara French, Norman Eberstein’s ID Card. 2010. Drawing. 3 ½” x 2 ¼”
(actual size).

5

Figure 3. Sara French, Norman Eberstein’s Fake Security License. 2010. Painting.
3 ½” x 2” (actual size).
The uniform, purchased from a thrift store, is a navy blue, wool, two-piece formal
suit including a dress coat and pleated pants. Underneath, Norman Eberstein wears a
white dress shirt and according to the weather, wool under garments and a navy blue
sweater. The jacket is double-breasted with ornate gold buttons. Fastened onto the suit is
my own creation of a hand-embroidered badge in the shape of a crest. Divided into four,
the crest symbolizes the icons that represent Norman Eberstein and each component of
his persona: disguise (a mustache), drag (the male and female symbols combined),
surveillance (an eye), and experimentation (question mark). On the back of his jacket is
the word ‘SECURITY’ sewn on with mustard yellow felt. On his feet he wears black
sneakers.
The use of gender in Norman Eberstein came about, in part, as homage to Marcel
Duchamp. His lengthy career as an artist was fundamental in raising conceptual concerns
around artistic production, institutions, and the role of the artist. His use of alias’, such as
R. Mutt, Georges Carpentier, Bull, and Pickens, as well as Monte Carlo Bond collectively
expanded upon contemporary ideas of authorship and identity. Rrose Selevay, his female
pseudonym, was very subversive at the time and said to be influenced by Havelock Ellis

6
and his 1894 book Man and Woman: A Study of Human Secondary Sexual Characters,
one of the first writings on gender (Cox and Hopkins 134-136). Duchamp’s passionate
ruminations in the erotic led him to explore gender through epic artistic endeavors that
continue to expand the inquisitive notion of sex. He consistently challenged prevailing
patterns of thinking and his explorations of eroticism, gender, sex, and identity all
reflected a subversive interrogation that remains influential today.
The written word, in Duchamp’s work, is often utilized in his titles, and as an
element in his assemblages, to play with themes of humour, sarcasm, and philosophy.
Duchamp regularly adopted puns, aphorisms, and spoonerisms to title works. Rrose
Selevay is the title and pseudonym of a persona for a project he began in 1921, in
collaboration with Man Ray. If you deconstruct this moniker you may sound out the pun
referencing Eros, the Greek concept of love, that is ‘Se-le-vay”, “it’s the life” or another
interpretation, “to make a toast to life”: “arroser la vie.” The work came to fruition as a
pastiche of readymades. One is a perfume bottle, a real Rigaud flask from early 1900 that
was collaged onto with a portrait of Duchamp’s androgynous alter ego, Rrose Selevay.
The scent was named Beautiful Breath or Veil Water and could be seen as Duchamp
playing on the late 19th century opera, La belle Hélène, whilst being interpreted as a
parody on ‘Eau de Toilette’. Man Ray’s photographs of Duchamp, as Rrose Selevay,
suggest a performative process. He also carried out his persona in his personal life, often
signing off letters as Rrose Selevay.1 This was the creation of a new identity for Duchamp
that he used as a tool to question authorship and gender. A critical biography quotes the
thoughts of his decision making process,
1 15 March 1923, a letter to Carrie, Ettie and Florine Stettheimer (Duchamp 132‐

133).

7
… I wanted to change my identity, and the first idea that came to me was to take a
Jewish name. I was Catholic, and it was a change to go from one religion to
another! I didn’t find a Jewish name that I especially liked, or that tempted me,
and suddenly I had an idea: why not change sex? (Duchamp qtd. in Cros 151)
It is clear his artistic intentions were fundamentally experimental and intuitive, “…as
Duchamp would tell Calvin Tomkins in the 1960s, his decision to invent Rrose Selevay
‘was not to change my identity, but to have two identities’” (qtd. in Goodyear 91).
Duchamp, unknowingly fathered performance art in the midst of Dadaism and Surrealism
using absurdity, humour, and conceptual art methodologies that at the time did more than
entertain; they revolutionized.
My process is reminiscent of the intuition Duchamp employed in the construction
of Rrose Selavay. I didn’t exactly ask myself “why not change sexes?” However, my
instinct to adopt a different gender definitely played a role in my process. Duchamp
seemingly utilized his persona as a strategy or tool, and in the same vein I use a
pseudonym, a character, and an identity to pursue my own investigation. Like Duchamp,
in order to initiate an intuitive process, it is crucial to situate myself in the liminal space
of societal constructs, reaching beyond the conventions of normativity. The contradictory
and oppositional binaries he was interested in, “inventor and entrepreneur”, “industrial
products and fine arts, invention, production and creation, patron and punter, mass
production and uniqueness” were situated in a liminal space that he found exploratory
thus growing his creative desire to ponder and contemplate life’s pre-existing beliefs
(Cox and Hopkins 166-167). Speaking on Rrose Selevay, Cox and Hopkins claim that,

8
“Rather than expressing the union of fixed opposites of androgyny, Duchamp’s female
alter ego tests the unstable nature of gender difference and stereotypes” (134).
Eberstein is neither woman Nor-man, and presents a satirical and spurious
persona to the viewer striving for absurdity in the same vein as Duchamp. Comic release
was of great value to Duchamp’s praxis, as he reflected, “Humour is the strict sense of
the relativity of things; it is the ongoing critique of what we believe to be definitive; it is
the door open to new possibilities without which mental progress would be impossible”
(qtd. in Cros 147). It is through humor that Norman Eberstein focuses attention on the
relativity of identity, and represents an ongoing critique of societal perceptions of safety.
Enacting Norman Eberstein allows for a sense of estrangement through which to explore
the unfamiliar terrain that Duchamp challenges. Identity, humour, performance, and
language are all deployed in this process.
The performance of Norman Eberstein’s rituals serve a key function. Enacted
before each performance, they represent the root of the work. It is crucial that Norman
Eberstein is always prepared when arriving to and departing from a performance. That is
to say, when I am him, I adopt the persona completely and there is no in between. The
process of becoming Norman Eberstein takes ten to fifteen minutes. Often there is a
feeling of anticipation, nervousness and giddiness. This act of becoming has occurred in
various settings, most often in a public washroom. Norman Eberstein’s performances
have arisen by invitation or through his own motivation. Regardless of his situation,
Norman Eberstein acts according to his own code of ethics. He would refuse to guard for
something that could potentially corrupt him, including sites that retain a high monetary
value, and he refuses to carry weapons or to physically harm someone. His benevolence

9
and naïve altruism are key elements of the persona. Norman Eberstein’s romanticized
view of public service contrasts the financial motives of the surveillance industry by
subverting it with servility, nobility and human kindness.

Chapter 3, Butler and Queer Theory
It is important to recognize that there are many artists who have specifically
adopted drag in their visual art practice, including, but not limited to: Eleanor Antin,
Lynn Hershman Leeson, Martha Wilson, Catherine Opie, Claude Cahun, Adrian Piper,
Cindy Sherman, Urs Luthi, and the aforementioned K8 Hardy and Wynne Greenwood,
all of whom have greatly influenced my work. For the purpose of this essay I have
chosen to concentrate on those that have had the most significant impact on the project.
Eleanor Antin exhibited generously in the 70s and up until the present. She
completed a body of work, from 1972-1975, titled The King of Solana Beach that plays
with narration and identity. Posing interchangeably between four characters, the king, the
ballerina, the black movie star and the nurse, Antin re-invented herself through
autobiography. She explains,
For some time I have been considering my art as an exploration of the self, which
means that I have been attempting to define myself by moving out to its frontiers,
where knowledge of what I cannot and will not be gradually helps shape what I
am. (Antin 354)
This work is a personal exploration of age, gender, class, and race and was realized
through performance, photography, and writing. At this time Antin was recognized by
critics Lucy Lippard and Jayne Wark, in numerous anthologies and essays, as a leading

10
conceptualist artist in feminism’s second wave. In Lippard’s essay Making Up: RolePlaying and Transformation in Woman’s Art she quotes Antin poetically speaking about
her work as, “moving out to, into, up to, and down to the frontiers of myself” (Antin qtd.
Lippard 105). Speaking to her process, Wark critiques,
The autobiographical origins of Antin's characters…bound them to herself, but no
matter how complete the transformation, [a] gap always remained between herself
and her personae that signified her subjectivity not as being but as the agency of
being.” (Wark 47)
Antin connected privately and personally with feminist self-exploration and reflected a
critique of social and political issues. Through her careful considerations of the human
condition, Antin was able to bring to art something that it had been missing, a woman’s
perspective. In Wark’s essay on Conceptual Art and Feminism, she writes, “Concluding
that biology was neither identity nor destiny Antin began to investigate identity as a
confluence or fragile link between self-definition and the forces of social interaction”
(47). What Wark was adamant about informing the art world, was that Antin represented
a connection between conceptual art and emerging feminist efforts in the 70s, challenging
existing values and authorities (48). At a time when men dominated the art world, Antin,
and many other female artists struggled to be recognized. Critics like Lippard and Wark
took on the challenge to bring attention to woman artists who were otherwise unknown.
This situation opened up a new territory for feminism, influencing the emergence of
queer theory.
Queer theory was adopted in the 90s as a term used to categorize discourses and
communication involving topics of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender (LGBT) and

11
feminist studies. More directly, ‘queer’ refers to “whatever is at odds with the normal, the
legitimate, the dominant,” and demarcates “an identity without an essence” (Halperin 62).
Gender politics encompasses feminist perspectives and LGBT issues, serving as a
framework through which to engage in diverse societal questions.
Queer theory was popularized by Judith Butler and her ideas of performativity.
My interpretation of Butler’s concept of performativity promotes a liberated
understanding of gender as something that grows and changes. To clarify, in a
documentary, Butler informs us to, “Describe gender as doing; what are the ways we do
gender?” (“Judith Butler). She describes gender as a performance that we often accept
without questioning. To reiterate, she explains, “one is born but becomes one that it is
neither man or a woman” (“Judith Butler”). She states, “if we knew always what we’d
become we would be dead, we would be over,” suggesting that gender is a continuing
experience with no end, or as Sharon Marcus translates in her ‘review essay’, Queer
Theory For Everyone, Butler’s implying that “gender is performance in the sense of a
copy for which there is no original” (“Judith Butler”, Marcus 197). All considered; it is
crucial to acknowledge the development of gender theory, which continues to emancipate
social values within gender binaries. Butler also provides insight into how to combat
heternormativity, as one scholar notes, “[Queer] performances often seek to disrupt the
repetition of normativity” by using “drag and other repetitions that might mimic the
structure of gender” (Brady and Shirato 67). The Norman Eberstein project attempts to
perform this disruption of gender Butler speaks of, and to escape gender’s concrete
binaries. The use of drag functions as a critique of oppressive surveillance strategies and,
just as importantly, opens up the liminal space for personal growth. Norman Eberstein

12
doesn’t ask the viewer to determine his gender, nor does he attempt to shock the viewer
with his gender, but rather allows the viewer to have their own reaction to his presence.
Creating this subtle disruption of gender allows myself to discover how people interact
with others, especially within the controls of surveillance. Everyone reacts differently to
gender, proving Butler’s theory, that gender is never complete and never original.

Chapter 4, Methodologies
Christian Falsnaes, a contemporary artist who executes live performances in
collaboration with his audiences, writes, “Performance is just a form and a language in
which I am able to communicate and experiment” (Falsnaes)2. In this spirit, the persona
of Norman Eberstein propels an intuitive and improvisational practice. John E. McGrath,
a theatre director who has held positions in New York, Manchester, and Wales,3 wrote,
Loving Big Brother: Performance, Privacy and Surveillance Space, a text about the
relationship between surveillance and performance. In this text he discusses the dynamic
between the two, “For an understanding of surveillance as something other than simple
representation of an event and place, the concept of performativity is crucial” (McGrath
14). Likewise, Norman Eberstein’s physical enactment strives for deeper insight into
constructs of security. The concept of surveillance is complex, ubiquitous, and powerful,
and as McGrath indicates, performativity may be used to begin an initial exploration of
its tactics and effect. Norman Eberstein’s adoption of the identity of the security guard is

2 Christian Falsnaes is a Danish artist known for his live performances, Existing

Things and There and Back, 2010.
3 John E. McGrath is currently Artistic Director of the National Theatre of Wales and
Chair of Theatre Performing Arts Network and Developing Agency (PANDA)
previously Artistic Director at Contact Theatre in Manchester

13
a subversion of the official aesthetic of surveillance.
June 14, 2010 9:30 am
My first day on the job and I’m feeling confident and alert. When I put on my
uniform this morning I felt a rush of importance. My strength doubled and I knew
no sadness or insecurity because my body did not feel weak. My body felt like a
brick wall that stands still always ready to do nothing but look straight ahead at the
world and the people. The complacency I once felt naked was gone. A reliance on
my existence took over my body: my posture, my facial expressions, and my
mindset. Even if no one needed me I felt I could make a difference.
Starting a little late. I was never actually given any guidelines. I make them up as I
go. I really want this experience. I’m not completely sure what the expectations are
other than observe and report, wear the uniform, and be here Monday to Friday
9:00 am till 4:00 pm. However the job must be fulfilled with a degree of confidence
that is rarely assigned. I’ve worked three times prior. This is my longest freelanced
job as of yet; an entire month, and I really want to try my hardest to prove that I,
Norman Eberstein, can be a security guard. There isn’t anything I want to do more.
Hopefully all goes well now that I’ve got my eye on them. (Eberstein 1-2)
As evoked in the above excerpt from one of the logbook entries that he dutifully keeps,
Norman Eberstein perceives himself as a public servant: well-groomed, physically fit,
observant, mentally aware, disciplined and reliable. His guarding strategies are basic, to
“observe and report.” The logbook reads, in succession, for an entire page, “…Observe
and report. Observe and report. Observe and report. Observe and report. Observe and
report. Observe and report…” (Eberstein 12). The observing is done while standing in the

14
vicinity of the location he is watching. The reporting includes the drawing of
observations, the chronicling of incidents, as well as ideas and thoughts that occur to
Norman Eberstein as he patrols.
The writing in the logbooks reveals a handwritten record of Norman Eberstein’s
feelings, thoughts, deeds, interactions, and observations. Whatever Norman Eberstein
sees, that is suspicious, cautionary, or intriguing, he reports. For example, he might assist
someone, “I just told a lady her fly was undone. She thanked me.” (Eberstein 12), talk to
someone, “The construction workers were talking to me about broken windows in the
area.” (Eberstein 41), or take note of someone, “There is a boy who has been seen
wandering around this area and I finally saw him today. He has an orange vest on with a
fluorescent stripe. Looks official in a safety kind of way. I sort of see it as he’s helping
me out, which is nice” (Eberstein 5). He also logs his feelings: uncomfortable, “What if
rioting went on here? I would feel responsible and do my best to keep people safe. Boy o’
boy it makes me nervous.” (Eberstein 31-32), sad, “I feel really depressed today. I really
hope someone asks for my help.” (Eberstein 12), or elated, “Happy Canada Day! I stand
on guard for thee.” (Eberstein 35). The logbook also includes drawings of maps,
diagrams, and ideas.

15

Figure 4. Sara French, Logbook. 2010. PG 28 of 53. 4” x 5 ½”.
I’ve always been interested in DIY methods, including sewing, playing
instruments, crafting projects, and other self-taught ways to be creative. In 2009 I learned
how to make books and this became a valuable skill to my performance-based practice.
Norman Eberstein’s logbooks employ my bookmaking skills and my own self-taught
embroidery techniques to create a series of traditional hardcover hand-bound books. Each
cover is hand-embroidered with the title, Norman Eberstein: Logbook. The four symbols
representing his persona are sewn on the spine, as well as the year and location for which
it was made. The hand-stitching is black and the book cloth is a mustard colour. This
yellowish hue is a dull echo of the emblematic gold historically used by hegemonic
powers. This is a subtle metaphor for the authority surveillance possesses and withholds

16
from those it employs. Hand-bound and sewn, the logbook is a non-technological tactic
used by Norman Eberstein to surveil. This process is intentionally critiquing the reliance
security systems have on cameras, computers and other surveillance technologies.
“Helping out humanity. Doin’ it myself (DIM). DIWhy? Because it’s honest.
Because no one else will do it for you. Because I have full control. What’s going to
happen today? Hopefully something” (Eberstein 22).

Figure 5. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. PGS 53. 4” x 5 ½”.
The work of Mierle Laderman Ukeles, an artist who dedicated more than two
decades in residence at the Department of Sanitation in New York City, offers a
connection to occupational social class that has aided in understanding my own project.
In 1969, Ukeles wrote Maintenance Art manifesto as a preliminary study. Her work

17
recognizes and commemorates maintenance workers, the culture of ‘blue-collar’ that is
often ignored in the art world.
Ukeles’ methodology links repetition, discipline, and diligence, voluntarily, as a
way of respect to those in the working force. In an interview, she says,
The same way that the sanitation department sends out 1,600 trucks every day, it
is like this repetitive thing that as much as you chafe at the boredom of the
repetition it is as important as the other parts. And I know that that has to be a part
of culture. Because if isn't, then you don't have a culture that welcomes in
everybody. And, I mean everybody. (Ukeles)
In addition to the appropriation of my brother’s name in Norman Eberstein, the work
draws on my personal roots. I come from an upbringing of “blue collar” hardworking
parents, a nurse and an engineer, who have raised four children. My work is deeply
rooted in this personal history. My father, who was raised on a farm, has always kept to
an intense work ethic while my Mennonite mother was equally dedicated to her job and
to domestic labor. My parents have never enjoyed luxurious lifestyles, even now in their
late fifties they continue to work.
Marked by this influence, my art utilizes a repetitive process that adheres to an
obsessive methodology. In this project I have logged a great deal of time surveilling,
training, crafting, and performing. Because of my family background, I feel obliged to be
laborious and diligent in my process in order to validate my work as an artist. The
repetitive and disciplined acts that I have adopted also serve as a means to a fully
engaged experimental investigation.

18
During the residency at New York’s Department of Sanitation, Ukeles carried out
numerous performance works. Touch, a work she made between 1978-1980, involved her
shaking the hand of every employee in the DOS, roughly 8,500 people. In this gesture
Ukeles flirts with the stereotype of an occupation construed as dirty or repulsive. Shaking
hands of sanitation employees may be viewed as daring but in actuality it is about her
honouring their existence as she earnestly thanks them. Ukekes’ piece draws on the
public’s prejudice and stereotype of sanitation workers, and by doing so she confronts her
viewers with their own biases in regard to the profession.
Though Norman Eberstein uses different means to explore the role of security
guard, it similarly plays with public biases, as the innocence of the persona could be
construed as a stereotype of an uneducated worker. Norman Eberstein’s naiveté,
however, has a more complex function. His thorough absence of cynicism requires
viewers to consider doubts that they might hold themselves, and to reflect on their own
passivity, discomfort, or anxiety in the face of surveillance. His choice to work without
pay, his embrace of a never-ending training process, and his dedication to promoting
safety for people rather than property or valuables, proclaims a credulous intent that
critiques the capitalist function of the security industry.
For the show, What Have I Done to Deserve This? in 2006, Ukeles displayed a
work from 1973 called, “The Keeping of the Keys,” in which she performed as a key
holder in the museum. The exhibition catalogue reflects,
Altruism, in these practices, also serves as a Trojan horse through which the
artists intervene in relations between groups of people and the institutions that are
supposedly responsible for their interests… 'Work', as in 'work of art' and work in

19
the general sense, acquires special meaning as each artist takes as their medium a
form of 'real world' labor… considered alien to the creative act. (Farquharson)
As a way of valuing labour creatively, Ukeles worked as an artist alongside other laborers
and made work that was for the workers and about the workers. Her altruism
acknowledges the workers existence, commonly unrequited yet crucial to civilization.
The solicitous and altruistic spirit of Norman Eberstein’s surveillance efforts are
central to the performance. He must look beyond the hegemonic nature of the security
industry, seemingly ignorant of its oppressiveness, in order for his virtuous deeds to
imply an ironic critique. The role of security guard itself manifests a conundrum; guards
are powerless in economic status but yet they serve and exert authority on behalf of the
established hegemony. By adopting an overarching sense of innate beneficence, Norman
Eberstein highlights these underlying contradictions of surveillance. As the project
evolves, questions of class continue to inform the growth of the persona and
performances.

Chapter 5, Trials
In the summer of 2010 I was awarded a space at a residency with the
Windsor/Detroit artist collective, Broken City Lab. While I was there I experimented
with my project, Norman Eberstein, in a month-long performance. The locations, various
abandoned storefronts, were donated by the city for artists to work and exhibit from June
14th – July 10th. The initiative was called Storefront Residences for Social Innovation and
involved over thirty artists working in three spaces downtown Windsor, Ontario.

20
At the residency, Norman Eberstein performed Monday to Friday from 9:00 am
till 4:00 pm for the entire month. Manifested from the performance was a 53-page
logbook that is cited throughout this paper. Media coverage of Norman Eberstein was
televised and published including a newspaper article by Dalsen Chen (“Rethinking
Vacant Space” Windsor Star, 17 June 2010), and a short clip of Norman Eberstein aired
on the local 6 o’clock and 11 o’clock news (/A\ Channel Windsor, 6 July 2010).

Figure 6. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Photo courtesy Windsor Star.

21

Figure 7. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2010. Photo courtesy /A\ Channel.
Before arriving in Windsor I was committed to time‐based performance and
testing my physical and mental response to the constraints I was putting on my body and
my own identity. Though my interest grew considerably and significantly propelled the
residency, I felt unsure of its significance at the time.
The centrality of gender in relation to the work Norman Eberstein was from the
onset a challenging question. As detailed in the chapter above, drag is an important
device that sparks the intuitive and improvisational process. Through research and
fieldwork I addressed the transformation I was experiencing, physically and mentally, in
regard to the constrictions I was placing on my body. The performative act of a woman
adopting a male security guard’s role undeniably carries with it an implicit critique of
phallocentric power structures. In addition, the DIY aesthetics that I use have feminist
overtones in relation to the systems of authority that I challenge.

22
Judith Butler, in her text Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in
Phenomenology and Feminist Theory, discusses phenomenological theories of “ acts”4
which aim to understand why and how gender is instituted. She suggests,
If the ground of gender identity is the stylized repetition of acts through time, and
not a seemingly seamless identity, then the possibilities of gender transformation
are to be found in the arbitrary relation between such acts, in the possibility of a
different sort of repeating, in the breaking or subversive repetition of that style.
(Butler 519)
As of way of “contesting its reified status,” Butler gives insight into the possibility to
intervene in these “social constraints” (520). She writes, that to overcome gender identity,
as “compelled by social sanction and taboo” her task is, “to examine in what ways gender
is constructed through specific corporeal acts, and what possibilities exist for the cultural
transformation of gender through such acts,” claiming that gender is in itself performative
(520). Butler never describes these acts of cultural transformation, leaving them open to
interpretation.
As Norman Eberstein, I am breaking and subverting my own repetitive gender. As
a woman using drag as a corporeal act, I attempt to blur performative characteristics and
expressions of gender. Though my choice to dress as a man is an element of an artistic
process rather than a part of a lifestyle, the public setting of the performance invokes
Butler’s critique. By disturbing my own gendered repetition of acts I am able to explore
the liminality of gender. As Butler states, “Genders, then, can be neither true nor false,

4 Specifically the writings of Edmund Husserl, Maurice Merleau‐Ponty and George

Herbert Mead.

23
neither real nor apparent” (527). If one deconstructs the social signifiers of gender we
may begin to escape the binary reification that is latent with a heterosexual framework.
The drag aspect of my work helps to investigate gender as a societal construct and
through the work it has become clear that ambiguities within the act of surveillance are
inherently gendered. The principal motivation of this ludic experiment rests in
questioning our investment in surveillance and how it internalizes the instinct to exercise
control—over ourselves and those around us.

Chapter 6, Surveillance: A Cultural Framework

Figure 8. Sara French, Panopticon. 2010. Drawing. 4” x 5 ½”.
In this chapter on surveillance I look to its historical constructs, attempt to frame
it as a concept, and outline how surveillance is reinforced in public and private space
today, how it is misused and how it has failed. In reconsideration, I will formulate better-

24
suited approaches to surveillance. For the purposes of the Norman Eberstein project, I
understand a conventional definition of surveillance to be the concept of watching over
someone, something, or somewhere, with the use of technological devices and/or
personnel.
Michel Foucault, in his text, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison,
traces the history of surveillance in relation to power, order and control up to the
development of Jeremy Bentham’s Panopticon. The chapter, “Panopticism”, begins with
an outline of procedures and tactics orchestrated during the plague in the late 17th
century. Foucault relates these tactics to later developments and gives them significance
for constructing the mechanisms that gave rise to the Panopticon. He calls this
establishment the ‘disciplinary programme’,
There is an exceptional situation: against an extraordinary evil,5 power is
mobilized; it makes itself everywhere present and visible; it invents new
mechanisms; it separates, it immobilizes, it partitions; it constructs for a time what
is both a counter-city and the perfect society; it imposes an ideal functioning…
The Panopticon, on the other hand, must be understood as a generalizable model
of functioning: a way of defining power relations in terms of the everyday life of
men. (Foucault 205)
The organizational governance adopted by the city to combat the plague was extremely
meticulous. Every maneuver was overseen, recorded, and controlled. This “disciplinary
programme” or “ideal functioning” Foucault concluded, was adapted to prisons, schools,
and hospitals. He writes, “Whenever one is dealing with a multiplicity of individuals on

5 The plague.

25
whom a task or a particular form of behavior must be imposed, the panoptic schema may
be used” (205). Bentham’s Panopticon was a blueprint for an architectural prison model
that was never built, but its conception imposed schema that was widely instituted. As an
invention, one might say the Panopticon succeeded in its construction. Foucault writes,
“it is the diagram of a mechanism of power reduced to its ideal form… it is in fact a
figure of political technology that may and must be detached from any specific use”
(205). That being said, the Panopticon could be considered the first important invention
of surveillance that advanced the technological and political agenda within which we are
now completely immersed. What was once governance (by the king, church and
citizens)6 is now an omnipresent technological system of control, surveillance.
It must be noted that Foucault went on to claim that the Panopticon not only gave
rise to a plethora of technologically driven inventions within a political agenda, it also
established a new sense of consciousness. To clarify, Foucault argued that the Panopticon
was used, “to induce in the inmate a state of conscious and permanent visibility that
assures the automatic functioning of power” (201). Today the Panopticon ‘schema’ has to
some degree been instituted in the majority of public and private spaces, thereby
subjecting us to this condition of constant visibility.
Foucault’s analysis of panopticism has informed our current understanding of
surveillance. In the aftermath of 9/11, the surveillance agenda has increasingly grown to
cater to the contingent nature of terrorist catastrophes. This was something that happened
abruptly in the wake of this tragedy. David Lyon, in his text Surveillance After September

6 Foucault states that in France, 17th century, social discipline was in part the role of

parish guilds and/or charity associations, until it was soon taken over by police
apparatus’ (213).

26
11, critiques this reality, making references to technological developments in globalized
security post-2001. From the onset, Lyon considers that surveillance has existed for
centuries, however after the calamity of 9/11 surveillance developed an increasingly more
sophisticated and ubiquitous stratagem. He writes, “The apparent crisis was immediately
seen as an opportunity for already existing systems and capacities to be more fully
exploited” and notes that “…already existing surveillance systems are being reinforced
and intensified” (Lyon 15, 18). To be clear, the problem is not that surveillance is
unwelcome, but rather that it was never made a democratic feat.
One of the most significant technologies that became utilized post 9/11 was
CCTV (closed circuit television). First invented in the 1940s, CCTV is now installed
throughout casinos, factories, and cites including Chicago, New York, and one of the first
countries to truly embrace CCTV technology was the United Kingdom. In this case
study, I focus on CCTV in the United Kingdom.
The 2005 National Geographic documentary “Science of Surveillance” offers
some general ideas about the phenomenon. “Science of Surveillance” indicates that a
person in the UK will be captured on camera over 300 times in one day. Recently the
advancements of surveillance have become even more intrusive: iris scans at airports,
face recognition systems on the streets, surveillance satellites in space, cell phones with
GPS, cameras on highways, implanted computer chips in people’s bodies; the inventions
are seemingly endless. Police now have the ability to find you anywhere in the world in a
matter of minutes. Using technology, the documentary, “Science of Surveillance” also
puts forward that those who are in control of surveillance can misuse or even abuse its
applications, and the system often fails to identify a crime before it happens. A prime

27
example was the London bombings that took place on July 7th 2005, an atrocity that
killed 52 people and injured over 700. The incident involved four suicide bombers
carrying backpacks filled with explosives. From within the stark CCTV control room the
men could be seen but there was no way of knowing that they were equipped with
explosives. It is poignant that the majority of the North American population ignores the
fact that these machines and technologies have been installed due to terrorist threats even
though they have failed to be proven as deterrents.
The question remains, how are these cameras are making us safer? In a two-year
study, 1995-1996, of CCTV control room operations, scientists Clive Norris and Gary
Armstrong documented and analyzed the actions and strategies orchestrated by camera
operators. Their observations were compiled in CCTV and the Social Structuring of
Surveillance, which was published in a Crime Prevention Studies journal in 1999. The
initiative was to study the process of CCTV and how it is used, rather than focusing on
the outcomes. Their methodology required them to situate themselves inside three control
rooms throughout the UK, including the Inner City, a rural Country Town, and a bustling
Metro City location (Norris and Armstrong 160). They concluded that, “In total, 593
hours of monitoring –the equivalent of 74 eight hour shifts – were observed” (161). Here
is an example of their fieldwork,
13.45: The operator sees and zooms in on four boys walking through a pedestrian
precinct. Aged between 10 and 12 and casually, but fashionably, dressed, the four,
- combining age, appearance, location and numbers – are suspects for a variety of
possibilities. The four gather around in a form of “conference,” and 30 seconds
later walk a few yards to their left and enter a shop well known for selling toys.

28
What the operator sees is not kids entering a shop meant for kids, but something
else: they are all up to no good running out any minute with stolen merchandise.
In anticipation, he fixes a camera onto the shop door and tells the other operator to
put the cameras onto the street he presumes they will run into.

Using two cameras and two operators, the surveillance lasts six minutes before
the boys leave the shop – slowly and orderly and without any apparent stolen
goods. Now, the operator informs me, he will zoom in on the four as they walk
through town in a search for bulges under their clothing, particularly around the
waistline – this according to him, is where stolen toys would be concealed. But
the boys have jeans and T-shirts on and no bulges are apparent. Still, however, the
four are followed by both operators to see if they will pull items out of their
pockets; they don’t. The four then disappear from view as they enter another
department store. The operator looks elsewhere, but comments to his colleague,
‘They’re definitely up to no good.’ (165)
From this example, Norris and Armstrong purport that the operators used a combination
of seemingly contradictory clichés and assumptions encouraged by their own personal
biases and common sense to justify their targeted victims (167). What was confirmed
from this research was, “The most neglected area of training consists of how to identify
suspicious behavior, when to track individuals or groups and when to take close-up views
of incidents or people” (158). The surveillance industry is compromised by this
subjectivity. It is close to impossible to identify a murderer or a criminal from a preexisting vocabulary of incidents.

29
Norman Eberstein identifies as a security guard that is in a never-ending training
session. He writes,
I’m starting to realize that I can never be completely prepared to protect humanity. I
know I can still train myself but I feel like I’ll never completely know how people
need to be treated or protected. However, I’m still willing to try. I will persist and
continue to experiment with the protecting of people. (28-29)
As a security guard in training, Norman Eberstein makes cautionary observations
regarding the environment, as opposed to reporting on behavior, which he deems to be
suspicious. Rather than concentrating on predicting crimes, he often tidies up while
patrolling, fixes potentially hazardous situations, and tries to devise safer plans and
procedures to follow. In the hopes of creating a safer atmosphere, Norman Eberstein
makes his presence seen and his assistance available to anyone.
The work of Matt Hern has aided my consideration of surveillance in regard to
security and safety. Hern, a writer who is co-founder and owner of Purple Thistle Centre
for Teens in Vancouver, BC, as well as a father, husband, volunteer and community
leader wrote about the uses of surveillance in his book, Watch Yourself: Why Safer Isn’t
Always Better, 2007. Along with David Lyon, Hern considered the effects of post 9/11
heightened surveillance measures. To quote,
More prisons constant surveillance and pervasive authority do not make us any
safer. Dominant contemporary notions that reify the perfectibility of safeness and
the end of nature serve only to constrict the public displacing non-official activity
with private autonomous consumer zones, and in the end reduces us
fundamentally. (Hern 10)

30
Hern is disconcerted that the over-use of surveillance hasn’t caused us concern. We are
ambivalent to the repercussions on our consciousness, our lives and the lives of future
generations. Hern suggests that we are technologizing, comidifying, and materializing
safety to satisfy our “obsession with safeness” (19, 142). His critique is, “To speak of
safety is to speak of control and rarely in our culture does that mean self-control” (Hern
22). If we have no self-control, he suggests, we risk losing our moral judgment, our
humanity and our sense of respect for one another. In dealing with this daunting
prediction, Hern considers that,
There are many useful suggestions for dematerializing police forces and making
them accountable to the communities they ostensibly serve—for example, getting
cops out of their cars and having them walk their patrols getting rid of their guns,
making them report to the local citizens boards, replacing local police beats with
citizen patrols, etc. (142)
The possibilities seem endless, yet the investment in technological systems remains
dominant.
Norman Eberstein is an advocate for these ideas. He walks his patrols, does not
carry weapons and communicates with citizens. He is an exaggeratedly benevolent
volunteer surveillant. Norman Eberstein re-imagines the systems of surveillance,
questions our blind investments, and rejects the oppressing and expensive security
industry. At its heart, the experiment seeks to displace the institutions of surveillance
with pure altruistic intentions. Norman Eberstein is convinced that his job exists for the
good of humankind. As a project, Norman Eberstein highlights the incongruity between
the realities of cold technological surveillance and the purpose that it claims to serve.

31
Norman Eberstein writes, “I believe I can change the ways of security. The volunteers of
safety, protection, and humankind” (Eberstein 9).
In Gendering Bodies, a critical text about the effects of surveillance, is stated,
In our everyday lives, practices of surveillance (by self and others) and everyday
accountabilities to a system of dichotomous gendered expectations encourage us
to curb our behaviors and become the realization of the gender box structure…”
(Crawley, Foley, Shehan 144).
Within surveillance, control and power naturally confine us to act and live in
authoritative systems that are often unidentified and omnipresent. Therefore, my tactic is
to use art to probe gender within the confines of surveillance hoping that my viewer will
question their natural instincts, question conformity, and be aware of their surroundings.
A reading on new surveillance technologies applies Butler’s words, “different
constructions of gender can interact with surveillance, and surveillance can incite “new
possibilities for gender that contest the rigid codes of hierarchical binarisms” (Butler qtd.
in Corones and Hardy 394). That is to say if we can use gender, do gender, and explore
gender to it’s maximum potential we can escape the restrictions we have in place, and
create new opportunities that will expand our existing ideas.

32

Figure 9. Sara French, Image taken on a construction site in Vancouver, BC. 2011.
Cell phone photo.

Chapter 7, The Bookworks of Jill Magid and Bernadette Corporation
The New Normal is an exhibition that was on display in the summer of 2010 at the
Art Gallery of Windsor (AGW). This traveling group show was co-organized by
Independent Curators International (iCI) and consisted of thirteen works each concerning
ideas of surveillance, social networking, and technology in the 21st century. The press
release reads, “Each of the works shown was completed after October 2001, when Vice
President Cheney described new government surveillance measures after 9/11 as ‘the
new normalcy’ ” (AGW). This ‘new normal’ is our ‘new’ life, saturated with information,
immersed in communication, and constantly surveilled.

33
While in residency for Broken City Lab collective, I visited the exhibition and
witnessed firsthand the work of Jill Magid, who I had been enthusiastic about for some
time. Magid works within themes of surveillance, performance, and voyeurism, is
represented by Yvon-Lambert Gallery, and has exhibited at the Gagosian in New York,
and the Tate.
The work of Jill Magid, Lincoln Ocean Victor Eddy (L.O.V.E.), on display at the
AGW, is a durational project from 2007 that chronicles a relationship with an MTA
officer (Metropolitan Transit Authority, State of New York). After living abroad for five
years, she moved back to Brooklyn and one day on the subway decided to engage with
authority. She approached the officer, rather abrasively,
Will you search me? What? I want you to search me. What? Why do you want me
to search you? Because you said you would. I can’t search you you’re a woman.
Oh, I didn’t know that. I paused and looked down at my book, then back up at
him. Will you train me? What? I want you to train me. Look, I have to get off
here. I repeated my request. He mumbled something, scribbled a number on the
last page of my book, and slipped out between the closing doors. (Magid 1)
Magid’s unsuccessful search request began a five-month long dialogue between herself
and the officer. From the first encounter they began meeting nearly everyday. He
introduced her to the underground subways systems allowing her to follow him on his
late night shifts and through restricted areas. She re-paid him by taking him to art
museums and teaching him art history, which he previously knew nothing about.
Simultaneously documenting each and every encounter, Magid composed the dialogue

34
into an installation piece that included photographs, objects, a print, and a novella, titled,
Lincoln Ocean Victory Eddy: 117HRS 23MIN LOGGED.
The novella chronicles the entire relationship. Including the title, which she
appropriated from the MTA phonetic alphabet, Magid brings in various references
throughout the text to reveal secrets, tactics, and unknown facts from within the police
system. What is so interesting is that Magid intimately and at times flirtatiously engages
with authority within an organization that protects itself from public and private
exposure. In a review of her Gagosian solo exhibition, Lyra Liberty Kilston wrote,
“Magid seeks a suppressed poetry in the grid of authority and finds it, even while the
results closely mimic the systems she attempts to humanize” (Kilston). Operating within
this grid, Magid entertains the idea of intimacy while deconstructing the authoritative
relationship to the public they are seemingly protecting.
In the gallery, the work successfully illustrated her performative experience
through documentation. Magid’s use of text and surveillance is poetic and thoughtprovoking. Her innermost desires are transformed within the systems of power as she
takes risks, exposing what could be considered confidential, private and/or classified
information. The photos displayed in the installation reveal two of the officer’s personal
possessions—his uniform shirt and gun. Also included is a bullet given to her, from him,
which she places on a pedestal in the gallery. Magid locates the weakness within the
authoritative structure to find her way in. Using her collected material she dangerously
reveals the vulnerability of a single entity within the system.
The books of Magid and the logbook of Norman Eberstein resonate in that both
attempt to translate a performative experience that is of the everyday; surveillance. In

35
much the same way as her book, Lincoln Victor Ocean Eddy: 117 HRS 23MIN
LOGGED, successful articulates, Norman Eberstein: Logbook attempts to illustrate a
performative exploration of surveillance using a common record-keeping convention.
Another bookwork that has influenced my project is titled Reena Spaulings, a
collaboration orchestrated by Bernadette Corporation. The preface declares that the book
was composed by 150 writers addressing the city of New York. Introducing an
unimaginable task, “to see a city”, the book goes on to say,
If you look at a city, there’s no way to see it. One person can never see a city…
you can’t go somewhere and look at it and just see it empirically. It has to be
informed, imagined, by many people at a time. It’s an everyday group
hallucination. This novel is modeled on that phenomenon. (Bernadette
Corporation)
The book is a fictional narrative about a girl who works as a security guard at the
Metropolitan Museum of Art. Thoughts during her shifts are laden with references to
banal everyday thoughts that read as self-reflexive modernist boredom, “Reena,
magnificently bored again, all day long. She knows the grainy surveillance monitors are
registering all her moves… sometimes she thought of herself as just a monitor staring
back at the other monitors” (Bernadette Corporation 5). This passage reflects the
introspective nature of her role as surveillant, cyclical, and arguably voyeuristic. Reena
by happenstance is “discovered” for a stint at a modeling agency. She inevitably quits her
job to become a lackluster model. Using her DIY fashion connections she manages to
land money, fame, and love, however she remains unsatisfied, within an existentialist
mindset.

36
A collaborative process that is seemingly performative was adopted in writing
Reena Spaulings. Its collective creation requires a re-consideration of authorship and our
expectation of the novelist as a singular entity. The idea of abolishing singularities is a
contemporary notion considered by numerous artists represented by Reena Spaulings
Gallery. Their exhibitions are often shown at this space in New York, a cutting edge
gallery that represents DIY aesthetics and praxis-based works.
Bernadette Corporation explores philosophical conundrums related to the idea of
authorship in the 21st century. Though I am not engaged in a collaborative practice, my
use of a persona in Norman Eberstein involves a slippery sense of authorship. Within the
project the idea of “the artist” is lost in the persona of Norman Eberstein. Much of the
substance of my work is created once I have transformed myself into the character. In my
practice I look to re-identify myself through a ritualized and self-disciplined methodology
that attempts to replace a sense of self with a process. The Bernadette Corporation
remains a strong reference for me because of their success within contemporary art
practices as they continue to investigate the re-identification of the artist.

Chapter 8, Exhibition
Villa Arson is a museum, school, and research center for contemporary art in
Nice, France. In 2010, Not to Play With Dead Things (N.T.P.W.D.T.), a new exhibition of
performance art was displayed there. The title, named after a text written by Mike Kelley
was mistakenly appropriated by the curators to refer to what they thought was a metaphor
for “objects linked to performances” (Mangion qtd. in Villa Arson 14). Discovered in
translation, Kelley’s text actually referred to a psychoanalysis of his childhood fetishes,

37
however the curators decided to keep it. In their use of it, the phrase refers to objects in
the exhibit that are no longer in process (14). In an interview, the curator, Éric Mangion
talks about this decision, “All the pieces featured have had their moment of being alive
through a gesture or an action. But this moment is now over. We are no longer playing.
The game is finished. They are only relics” (14). This “game” is characterized as the
performative process that created the works installed in the show. Tackling the possibility
of performance art being material-based, the curators, Mangion and Marie de Brugerolle,
were interested in unpacking and understanding its relation to a set of “aesthetic forms”.
As we see performance art today, exhibited in the gallery, it is likely to be photography or
video. N.T.P.W.D.T. broadens the genre, displaying sculptures, relics, remixed works,
non-documentary videos, and post-performance props. One media they intentionally did
not stage is live performance works. Mangion says, “The idea was to question again the
notion of documenting a performance by featuring artists that had misappropriated the
use of these traces” (qtd. in Villa Arson 16). This “misappropriated” use of
documentation captures an essence of the artistic process that performance art had never
addressed. Perhaps this is because of 1960s performances, which attempted to dematerialize art as a resistance to consumerist culture. The curators defend their curatorial
vision by asserting that this is not a grotesque revision of priorities based on economic
motivations to commodity performance (Mangion qtd. in Villa Arson 19). The use of
performance art as object in N.T.P.W.D.T. is not linked to a refusal of the art market,
therefore validating the process of performative practices as something more than a
political gesture.

38
N.T.P.W.D.T was a strong influence on my thinking, as it revealed a new
emergence of performance art, one that allowed the artist to explore public, bodily, and/or
relational methods without necessarily being participatory, live, or didactic. In a sense, it
revitalizes the artistic process as an action.
The curatorial intentions also affirm that performance art needs not be sitespecific and performed in front of a live audience in order to be understood. For the
Norman Eberstein project, I attempt to install in the gallery what was, in its initial form, a
performance. Appropriating the vocabulary of N.T.P.W.D.T., I use “dead objects”,
“leftovers”, or “relics” from the performance to present the work that was brought to
fruition using a performative process. To quote Mangion, I am “reaching beyond
formulas and past trends, to truly express an action, a moment, or an idea” (qtd. In Villa
Arson 19).
Over the course of the work’s evolution, the principle challenge came down to the
location of where the performance should take place. In the gallery spaces or institutional
settings (University, Library) the site failed to provide an intriguing context. The
performance was in need of a more expansive environment, and to be seen by a larger
public. This requirement is considered in the most recent iteration of Norman Eberstein, a
weeklong performance at the Peace Arch, Douglas Border Crossing, in Surrey, BC. Each
day, Monday to Friday, 9:00 am – 4:00 pm, Norman Eberstein performs surveillance in
the perimeter between Canada and the USA (without ever crossing the border). The night
before the performance, Norman Eberstein writes,
Oh my. Am I ever nervous about tomorrow. My stomach really hurts, that is
because my nerves are shot. I will be embarking on a weeklong training session at

39
the Peace Arch. I hope I’m going to be healthy tomorrow for my shift. They had a
computer glitch at the border in October last year. Technology isn’t perfect. Boy,
I wish I were. Things should run smoothly for tomorrow, hopefully. I am planning
to be really on top of things at this location. There will likely be a fair number of
security guards there to begin with and we should all spread out. Wish me luck.

Figure 10. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2011. Performance at Peace Arch
Border Crossing, Surrey, BC. Photo courtesy of Lois Klassen.
My final exhibition, realized in this performance, displayed a logbook, a video
work, and the uniform worn by Norman Eberstein. The video component contained live
footage captured by Brynna Childs on site of Norman Eberstein guarding the Peace Arch.
The installation constitutes Norman Eberstein’s character in representing the use of DIY
aesthetics and craft techniques created and employed in the performance.

40
Rather than the gallery spaces, where several Norman Eberstein performances
had previously been situated, the border creates a discourse within a socio-political
context. The overabundance of surveillance cameras and other technological devices
installed at the border generates a conversation in relation to Norman Eberstein’s physical
presence. Some questions that arose for me during the course of this experiment include:
Who has the right, if anyone, to protect the un-chartered land between two countries? Can
liminal space be made safe? Is it possible for cultures to meet in a protected space? How
do Norman Eberstein’s motivations, tactics, and ambitions deviate from the guards
currently employed at this location? These questions will help to inform my future work.
Because this work represents more of a beginning than an end, my assessment of
the Peace Arch performance is best represented by the anecdotes from Norman
Eberstein’s logbook. Each of the recorded interactions that I cite below are followed by a
narration of my response at that moment, which highlights the value of my experience,
I just sparked up a conversation with an American couple… The interesting part
for me was that neither of us had to actually cross the border (they forgot their
passports) but yet we met in the middle and were able to have a conversation.
(Eberstein 5-6)
In this situation the woman was afraid to cross an invisible line between the borders. The
husband joked while hopping across the boundary of USA and Canada, yet afraid to
venture beyond the middle. This situation gave evidence to the control that we internalize
in surveillance space. In addition, it was interesting that we were able to meet one another
at the dividing line although neither of us where in either country.

41
The writing, used as a method for surveiling, also evolved into a mapping strategy
and a way to interact with the space. Norman Eberstein puts forth historical and
observational information on the crossing throughout the logbook,
This time of the season the cabins are closed, by spring they will re-open for
events and gatherings. Up here, I have located a significant vantage point. I can
see down to the arch and all the little people walking across the distance of land.
The arch is so tall. It disappears into the off-white sky abstracting the flags that
wave over-head. (12-13)
Appreciating the open space, Norman Eberstein felt at ease and took full account of his
presence in the space while acknowledging peak viewpoints. As he walked the perimeter
he took note of fixtures and ornamental structures in place. Finding interest in the
historical nature of the location, Norman Eberstein logs,
Apparently when the arch was first built in the 1920s the artist had artistically
lined its frame with many white lights. These were replaced with floodlights in
the 1940s. Sam Hill, in 1914 began an international fundraising campaign to have
the arch built. The design for the arch was donated by H.W. Corbett of London,
England. He was an architect. Sam Hill was a lawyer from Washington State and
after collecting gracious donations from automobile clubs in Canada and the USA
he rounded up an international group of volunteers to help build the arch. Almost
70 feet tall, the arch symbolizes the end of a conflict between the USA and Great
Britain. In 1814, a hundred years before the arch was erected, the Treaty of Ghent
was signed. This arch commemorates the hundred-year anniversary.

42
The arch is said to be one of the first structures in North America constructed to
be earthquake proof. (22-23)
His interest in the history of the arch and its installation are due to his dedication to guard
the space. Fully aware of his surroundings, Norman Eberstein takes pleasure in answering
visitor’s questions about the location. The logbook brings from the performance, literally,
a first hand account of a security guard patrolling a space. What he sees, thinks and does.
The residue from the performance inhabits the gallery space as a material
expression of the work itself, a collection of “dead objects” that are evocative of a
performative experience. Norman Eberstein is a fake biography, a glimpse into the life of
a hardworking, benevolent, altruistic volunteer of safety.
Through the use of video I am showcasing the performance of Norman Eberstein,
not the citizens or location he is protecting. The employment of the video is to document
the actions of the surveiller, instead of the public, as well to highlight the duties he
employs. This is contradictory to the official uses of technology that I am critiquing.
However, the video is an expression of a performative work.
The Peace Arch project was driven by research and processes collected and
practiced over the past two years. The performance and the exhibition have developed,
matured and enriched the practice-based research that underpins this thesis.

43

Figure 11. Sara French, Norman Eberstein. 2011. Film still from Peace Arch Border
Crossing, Surrey, BC. Courtesy of Brynna Childs.

Conclusion
The Norman Eberstein project is ongoing and continues to manifest live
performances, residual materials, objects and documentation. At the most fundamental
and experimental level I hope that the spontaneity, intuition, and humour at play in my
work will take viewers by surprise and lead them to reconsider surveillance in public and
private spaces. The questions represented here do not seek answers, but rather search for
paths that may guide me and my viewers through alternate narratives concerning the
themes outlined in this essay.
As the performance of Norman Eberstein continues with new iterations, I also
work in the studio to discover new ways to understand surveillance: sketching out

44
scenarios, manipulating representational material and staging estranged situations. All of
these processes contribute to my artistic practice and fuel the research and fieldwork
communicated in this essay. In an attempt to unpack theories of performance,
surveillance, and gender, I am constantly questioning the materials I utilize and the
processes I generate. As an artist I am insistently asking myself how I can challenge
existing presumptions and perceptions regarding the constructs that dominate our lives.
My position as an artist is that surveillance and its technologies can be detrimental
to the communal spirit of public space and causes us to disassociate ourselves from each
other. The persona of Norman Eberstein embodies my critique, revealing the absurdity
of societal presumptions regarding the effectiveness and value of surveillance.
My work offers no resolutions, but it recognizes that safety is a necessary
component to our fundamental well being, and suggests that we should do better than the
systems and industries exercised today. Until we are able to imagine new modes of social
responsibility and stewardship of our communal spaces, we must be skeptical of the
effect current systems impose on our moral judgment, our consciousness and our ethics.

45
Works Cited
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Massachusetts: Massachusetts Review, (1983): 353-368.
Art Gallery of Windsor. Press Release: The New Normal. 2010.
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Brady, Anita and Tony Shirato. Understanding Butler. London: SAGE, 2011.
Butler, Judith. “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology
and Feminist Theory”. Theatre Journal 49 (1988): 519-531.
Corones, Anthony and Hardy Susan. “En-Gendered Surveillance: Women on the Edge of
a Watched Cervix.” Surveillance and Society 6.4 (2009): 388-397.
Cox, Ades and David Hopkins. Marcel Duchamp. New York: Thames and Hudson,
1999.
Crawley, Sara et.al. Gendering Bodies. United Kingdom: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008.
Cros, Caroline. Marcel Duchamp: Critical Lives. London: Reaktion Books, 2006.
Deveauz, Monique. “Feminism and Empowerment: A Critical Reading of Foucault.”
Feminist Studies 20.2 (1994): 223-247.
Duchamp, Marcel. Affectionately, Marcel: The Selected Correspondence of
Marcel Duchamp. Eds., Francis M. Naumann and Hector Obalk. Ghent, Belgium:
Ludion Press, 2000.
Eberstein, Norman. Logbook: Windsor, ON: n.p., 2010.
Falsnaes, Christian. Interview. By Soren Dahlgaard. “Kopenhagen: Aktuel
Information Om Samtidskunst”. 6: (2010).

46
http://www.kopenhagen.dk/interviews/interviews/interviews_2010/interview_chri
stian_falsnaes/
Farquharson, Alex. Rev. of What Have I Done to Deserve This?, by Alex Farquharson,
Tirdad Zolghadr and Dijon Le Consortium. Cubitt Gallery. 2006. March 2, 2011.
http://cubittartists.org.uk/index.php?module=eventsmodule&action=view&id=36
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. 2nd ed. New
York: Vintage Books, 1995.
Goodyear, Anne Collins. “Constructing a Made-Up History: Self-Portrayal and the
Legacy of Marcel Duchamp.” Inventing Marcel Duchamp: The Dynamics of
Portraiture. Ed. Anne Collins Goodyear and James W. McManus. Massachusetts:
MIT Press, 2006.
Halperin, David. Saint Foucault: Towards A Gay Hagiography. New York: Oxford
University Press, 1995.
Hern, Matt. Watch Yourself: Why Safer Isn’t Always Better. Vancouver: New Star
Books, 2007.
“Judith Butler: Philosophin der Gender.” Dir. Paule Zajdermann. Arte France, 2006.
Kilston, Lyra Liberty. “Art Review.” Rev. of With Full Consent, by Jill Magid. Gagosian
Gallery. Modern Painters, October 2007.
Lippard, Lucy. “Making Up: Role-Playing and Transformation in Woman’s Art.” The
Pink Glass Swan: Selected Essays on Feminist Art. New York: New York Press,
1995. 89-98.
Lyon, David. Surveillance After September 11. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press in
Association with Blackwell Pub, 2003.

47
Magid, Jill. Lincoln Ocean Victor Eddy. Maine: 2007.
Marcus, Sharon. “Queer Theory For Everyone: A Review Essay.” SIGNS 31.1 (2005):
191-218.
McGrath, John E. Loving Big Brother: Performance, Privacy and Surveillance
Space. London: Routledge, 2004.
Norris, Clive, and Gary Armstrong. “CCTV and The Social Structuring of
Surveillance.” Crime Prevention Studies 10 (1999): 157-178.
“Science of Surveillance.” National Geographic. 2006. Television.
Ukeles, Mierle Laderman. Interview. By Tom Finkelpearl. Dialogues in Public Art:
Maintenance and Sanitation Art. Cambridge, MA: MIT, 2001.
Villa Arson (France). Not to Play with Dead Things. Zurich: Jrp Ringier, 2010.
Wark, Jayne. “Conceptual Art and Feminism.” Woman's Art Journal 22.1, (2001):
44-50.

48
Works Consulted
Bennett, Tony. The Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics. New York:
Routledge, 1995.
Breschuk, Paul. “The New Normal at the Art Gallery of Windsor.” Akimbo, Akimblog:
Windsor. 14 April 2010. 06 December 2010.
http://www.akimbo.ca/akimblog/?id=374
Butler, Judith. Excitable Speech: Contemporary Scenes of Politics. New York:
Routledge, 1996.
---. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York:
Routledge, 1990. Print.
---. Giving an Account of Oneself. 1st ed. New York: Fordham University Press, 2005.
---. Feminists Theorize the Political. New York: Routledge, 1992.
de Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. London: University of California,
1984.
Cixous, Helene. Laugh of the Medusa. Trans. Keith Cohen and Paula Cohen.
Chicago: University Chicago, 1976.
Cooling Out: On the Paradox of Feminism. Zurich: JRP Ringier, 2008.
Ctrl [space]: Rhetorics of Surveillance from Bentham to Big Brother. Karlsruhe,
Germany: ZKM Center for Art and Media, 2002.
Duncan, Carol. Civilizing Rituals: Inside Public Art Museums. New York: Routledge,
1995.
Eberhardt, Isabelle. The Oblivion Seekers. Trans. Paul Bowles. San Francisco: City
Lights, 1975.

49
Foucault, Michel. The History of Sexuality. New York: Vintage Books, 1990.
Goldberg, RoseLee. Performance Art, from Futurism to the Present. Rev. and enl. ed. --.
London: Thames and Hudson, 1988.
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Center for Contemporary Art, 2005.
Lippard, Lucy R. From the Center: Feminist Essays on Woman’s Art. New York: E. P.
Dutton, 1976.
---. Get the Message?: A Decade of Art for Social Change. 1st ed. New York: E.P.
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Piper, Adrian. Out of Order, Out of Sight. London: MIT, 1996. Vol. 1. Selected Writings
in Meta Art 1968-1992. 2 vols.
---. Talking to Myself: An Autobiography of an Art Object. Hamburg: Hossman, 1974.
Schwarz, Arturo. Who is Roberta Breitmore? (Some Preliminary on the Origin and
Development of an Alchemical Opus).
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50
Penguin, 2006.
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WACK!: Art and the Feminist Revolution. Los Angeles: Museum of Contemporary Art,
2007.

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Appendix
List of Norman Eberstein’s performances as of 7 March 2011, in chronological order:
North Vancouver Public Library and Laundromat on Lonsdale, Vancouver, BC. 6
December 2009.
The Re-Articulation Of The Appropriated Vancouver Artscape Deconstructed Through
The Notions Within Its Reproduced Economics: The Accountant, All The Kings Riches
And The Next 200 Years. By Brayden Dwight Wamboldt’s installation, Concourse
Gallery, Emily Carr University, Vancouver, BC. 16 December 2009.
Storefront. By Denver Lynxleg, Railspur Alley, Granville Island, Vancouver, BC. 11
April 2010.
Storefront Residences for Social Innovation. By Broken City Lab, Windsor, ON.
14 June – 10 July 2009.
Shudder Gallery. Vancouver, BC. 2 October 2010.
CARAPACE. By Patrick Cruz and Heidi Naatagaal for Hammock Residency, Art Bank,
Vancouver, BC. 17 December 2010.
Chad and Larry. By Kristina Fiedrich and Vanessa Arnold, Concourse Gallery, Emily
Carr University, Vancouver, BC. 26 January 2011.
The Weekly Drag Show. Cobalt, Vancouver, BC. 30 January 2011.
Peace Arch, Douglas Crossing, Surrey, BC. 21 February – 25 February 2011.

Note: This list excludes any performances that were carried out in class (Advanced
Studio VSAR-500, Advanced Studio II VSAR-501 and Visual Arts Advanced Studio III
GSMA-651 at Emily Carr University).

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Glossary
DIY:
DIY or Do-It-Yourself is a term utilized to describe my artistic process. My concepts are
constructed through my own understanding and self-taught approach to making. DIY is a
term that was popularized in the 1990s to market home improvement kits, hobbies, and
handi-crafts. Blowing up into a consumerist craze, DIY has recently been re-appropriated
into contemporary art, particularly counter-cultures such as, punk, feminism, and craft.
DIY encourages an anti-consumerist lifestyle and a consciousness keen on taking
initiative to learn new techniques, skills, and practices that may otherwise be un-taught in
academic institutions. DIY aesthetics appear campy and are often homemade;
representative of craft and analog strategies of art making. It is important to note that
although DIY happened outside the art world it was adopted by contemporary artists to
refer to the handmade. It’s ideologies came round to influencing prominent artists, such
as Wynne Greenwood, K8 Hardy, Alex Hubbard, Allyson Mitchell.
Drag:
Drag, in this thesis, refers to the act of dressing up so as to enhance or contrast
characteristics of gender as employed in my practice. Implied in the term is the powerful
political nature of the act within a heternormative society. More specifically, I use drag in
my practice, artistically, to re-identify my identity using gender.
Performance:
Performance is a term used to describe my artistic process, which is enacted by my
character, in public or private space and specifically outside of the studio. Performance

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began as a way to de-materialize art in the 1970s. Whether this was successful or not is
arguable. Many artists have utilized performance using dance, theatre, and conceptualism
to express their practice using their bodies.