an
international and interdisciplinary journal of postmodern cultural sound, text and image
Volume 18,
Winter 2021/2022, ISSN 1552-5112
Martha Rosler’s
Screened Surveillance
The clarification of
vision is a first step toward reasonably and humanely changing the world. -Martha
Rosler[1]
A
woman’s steely blue eye, rimmed with a hint of icy eye shadow and a fringe of
thick black lashes, meets our gaze as it peers out from across the interior of
a spacious blue and beige bathroom. The eye fills the space on the wall behind
the bathroom sink that’s typically reserved for the mirror. The unblinking,
centrally located eye’s size, shape, and makeup application are all signifiers
that congeal into a clearly idealized image of femininity projected within the
screen of mass culture. Martha Rosler carefully
lifted the close-up photograph of the staring feminine eye out of a fashion
magazine and inserted it into the center of the composition of her photomontage
Bathroom Surveillance (1966-1972).
Bathroom
Surveillance or Vanity Eye [from Body Beautiful, or Beauty Knows No Pain] (c. 1966-1972)[2]
With
that subtle appropriation, she placed a visually disruptive emphasis on the
role of the masculine and feminine “surveying gaze” in the circulation of
images in American mass culture and the parallel increase in surveillance
within the contemporaneous American social and political landscape.
Rosler
created a number of photomontages and videos in the
1960s and 1970s that highlighted the various ways in which surveillance became
an increasingly prominent theme within the economic, political, social, and
cultural landscape. Surveillance typically connotes espionage, intrigue, and
the inner-workings of large but invisible external networks of power that exert
control over the individual in ways that have become all-too-familiar, such as
security cameras, wire-taps, location tracking, and
other similar means of documenting the actions, words, and movements of
individuals without their knowledge. Yet, Rosler
demonstrates the nuanced connections between dual external and internal gazes
of the surveyor and surveyed in both the public and private spheres, in
photomontages such as Bathroom
Surveillance or Vanity Eye, from the Body
Beautiful, or Beauty Knows No Pain series (1966-1972) as well as in other
media, such as the video Vital Statistics
of a Citizen, Simply Obtained (1977). Unsurprisingly, the intertwined forms
of surveillance that Rosler underscores are even more
ubiquitous than ever in mass culture today, which renders Rosler’s
early dissections of our internalized surveillance in the 1970s increasingly
prescient.
The
feminine eye that gazes out across the room in Bathroom Surveillance echoes the interventions in the 1970s of John
Berger, Laura Mulvey, and many other critics’ descriptions of the ways that the
ideality portrayed on the screen of contemporary mass culture trains every
woman to constantly examine herself from personal and external perspectives in
comparison with the idealized imagery of femininity from mass culture.[3]
Simone de Beauvoir described the ways the behaviors of internalized
surveillance shaped masculine and feminine identities, through which a woman,
“discovers and chooses herself in a world where men force her to assume herself
as Other.”[4]
Women’s embodiments of the dual roles of the surveyor and the surveyed are
inherent aspects of this Othering and are crucial to Rosler’s
satirical critique. Bathroom Surveillance, in particular, deftly
initiates an examination of the ways that mass media culturally and socially
indoctrinate women and men into active or passive specularity,
as well as the larger networks of power implicated in the screen that pervades
contemporary society, through the mere substitution of an eye for a mirror. In
the 1980s, critic Griselda Pollock extended the critiques of the 1970s and
highlighted the way that the “sexual politics of looking function around a
regime which divides into binary positions, activity/passivity, looking/being
seen, voyeur/exhibitionist, subject/object.”[5]
Different spaces can exaggerate or diminish the distance between these
binaries, or even add more variations to them, and Bathroom Surveillance is an ideal example of the way in which Rosler asks viewers to critically examine how the screen of
images in everyday life shapes our perceptions and identities through different
binaries and spaces.
American
viewers typically associate the bathroom with a private domestic space, nestled
within the interior of a home. As Pollock noted, the public sphere exists
primarily as a space of freedom, masculinity, and voyeurism in the controlling
male gaze, while the private domestic sphere is a constrained, feminine space
with fixed identities. [6]
Each space determines behaviors and creates social identities, like the
“detached observing gaze” of the masculine public realm, or the internalization
of that gaze and the resulting feminine objecthood within the domestic or
private space.[7]
Rosler appropriated the bathroom portrayed in Bathroom Surveillance from a
photo-editorial in an edition of the magazine House Beautiful, one of several magazines that Rosler
often fished out of the trash room in her apartment building as fodder for her
photomontages.[8]
She chose the aspirational, idealized images that appeared in these magazines
to re-examine and reconfigure the idealized domestic spaces and images
presented on their pages within the disruptive spaces of her photomontages. The
fact that Rosler reassembled these montaged
collisions at her kitchen table only heightened the impact of her critique
further. Her choice of a bathroom over other domestic interior spaces
emphasizes the contrast between the privacy of the space within the montage and
the abrupt invasion of the external, yet feminine surveilling gaze of the
woman’s eye over the sink. In a simple appropriative gesture, Rosler adeptly addressed the internal and external
presences and perspectives within the panopticism of
contemporary mass culture, as well as the construction of the woman as Other
through the spaces and gazes of contemporary culture. Rosler’s
insertion of a staring feminine eye visually reinforces the idea that women
simultaneously experience the subjectivity and objecthood embedded in their
socially and culturally constructed Otherness that de Beauvoir describes, as
they both internalize and embody the roles of the surveyor and the surveyed in
private and public realms.
Rosler
appropriated her images from glossy magazines because they were one of the most
popular media outlets in America after World War II, and held that spot until
the early 1970s, when television gradually surpassed them as the main media
outlet. The proliferation of full-color photography on the gleaming pages of
magazines in the 1960s further increased their circulation,
and cemented the primary position of the magazine within mass media
during the 1960s.[9]
In this media landscape, Rosler’s appropriation and
re-presentation of magazine imagery was a natural choice, since they held such
a prominent position. As such, she worked within “the existing repertory of
cultural imagery,” because, as theorist Craig Owens explained, the “subject,
feminine sexuality, is always constituted in and as representation, a representation
of difference.”[10]
Owens’ discussion of feminine alterity only built on Jacques Lacan’s
psychoanalytic foundation in which “the representation… of female sexuality,
whether it is repressed or not, conditions its implementation.”[11]
Artists, such as Rosler, who worked with the
‘transparent images’ of photography and film circulated by mass media,
highlighted the transparency of those mediums—how these images erased their
“material and ideological supports…so that, in them, reality itself appears to
speak,” and became culturally persuasive to the general public.[12]
Rosler’s photomontages crucially “render visible the
invisible mechanisms whereby these images secure[d] their putative
transparency,” so she can deftly disrupt the circulating and accumulating
cultural capital of the mass media representations of sexualized female bodies.[13]
The
intertwined internal and external aspects of surveillance that Rosler examined in her Bathroom
Surveillance montage were a relatively new part of the panopticism
of contemporary life, in which, as Michel Foucault noted, “the play of signs
defines the anchorages of power; it is not that the beautiful totality of the
individual is amputated, repressed, altered by our social order, it is rather
that the individual is carefully fabricated in it, according to a whole
technique of forces and bodies.”[14]
Bathroom Surveillance reflects the
way the network of panoptic power instructs the formation of both our private
and public selves. Rosler implicated mass culture as
one of the major networks of power, defined by the play of signs that created
and reinforced women’s position as Other in its indoctrination of women’s
self-surveillance of their own femininity and alterity. The massive and
unblinking slate blue eye of the otherwise unseen woman in the photomontage
literally embodied the critical act of feminine self-surveillance and its
inherent adoption of a detached, observing, masculine gaze, yearning with a
“primordial wish for pleasurable looking.”[15] The
critical gaze of the surveyor forces the female observer to compare her
appearance to the cultural ideals of femininity that recirculate and reinforce
the culturally dominant and unattainable standards of beauty.
These
impossible images of feminine ideality circulated through magazines,
newspapers, movies, and television encouraged average women’s attempted
approximations of the culturally reinforced ideals projected on the screen. The
media’s representation of such an unreasonably idealized feminine beauty is an
inherent aspect of consumer culture that drives the desires projected onto the
late capitalist military industrial economy’s circulation of clothes, makeup,
and even fad diets, all to sell an image and an identity in mass-produced
goods. This representational ideality, as described by Kaja
Silverman, is “something which can only ever be partially approximated.”[16] When
Rosler replaced a mirror with a disembodied feminine
eye in the Bathroom Surveillance, she
succinctly disrupted the surveying gaze and screen of specular ideality that
perpetually follows women in both public and private realms. She reminded the
viewer that the panoptic network of power inherent in the late capitalist
industrial society was and is so pervasive that the processes of surveillance
that sustain and propagate post-industrial capitalist culture are present in
the homes and minds of everyone in America, especially women.
Rosler’s
photomontage, Woman with Cannon, Dots,
from the anti-war series of montages, House
Beautiful: Bringing the War Home (1967-1972), further implicates the
different gazes of the public and private spaces within the specific historic
context of the Vietnam War. In Woman with
Cannon, viewers look out across a room, but this time their gaze falls upon
a bedroom, not a bathroom. The opposite wall bears a mirror that reflects a
nude woman. However, even though the woman appears in the mirror, she is not
physically present in the room itself, and instead only exists as a reflection
in the mirror. The wall with the mirror also bears two windows or paintings,
both of which frame images of cannons or missiles
aimed at the purely specular appearance of the nude woman in the mirror. The
exchange of human and mechanical gazes distilled in the montage parodied the
way the ideality of the feminine sexuality of the nude woman functioned solely
as an object for the viewer’s pleasurable visual consumption both inside and
outside the home. Although the nude woman gazes out of the mirror, she does so
over her shoulder as she turns and reaches to cover herself, so that her eyes
never meet the viewer’s directly. Rosler
removed the nude apparition from a pornographic magazine, such as Playboy, but the pose of the feminine
apparition in the mirror bore reverberations all the way back to the
classically titillating modesty of the Aphrodite
of Knidos. This pose re-appears on the screens of high and mass culture and
emphasizes the female figure’s status as an object that lacks sexual or any
other form of agency, and only reaffirms her spectral presence.
Woman with Cannon (Dots) (c. 1967-72)[17]
In
Woman with Cannon, Rosler exploits the slippery, yet productive
interconnections between the realms of mass culture and fine art to ultimately
reveal how “certain forms of mass culture … are more of a threat to women than
to men. After all, it has always been men rather than women who have had real
control over the productions of mass culture.”[18] Silverman’s examination of the
representations of gender in mass culture further revealed that, “although
every subject depends upon the ‘affirmation’ of the camera/gaze,” gender parity
is not a feature of photographic representation, in which “woman is often
obliged to ‘live’ hers much more fully than is her male counterpart, who is …
aligned with camera/gaze.”[19] Although women might attempt to embody
the image of idealized feminine sexuality that appears in the montaged bedroom
mirror, they can only really ever aim at approximation, as they will only ever
become a “good enough vamp.”[20] Rosler’s
insertion of the apparition of idealized sexuality into the mirror exploits that
distance between the screen and reality and pokes holes right through it, as
the camera affirms the presence of the woman in the mirror as merely that of an
Othered object caught by the surveying and photographic gaze of mass imagery
and the world.
Rosler carefully utilized the iconography of the
mirror, which traditionally functioned as a moral condemnation of women’s
vanity, to highlight the ways women’s self-surveillance operates in a different
manner from the surveying and controlling masculine gaze. In doing so, she implicates
the interplay between surveillance and objectification as a key component of
consumer capitalism in the 1970s.
The individual photomontages in both Rosler’s Body
Beautiful and House Beautiful series
present the viewer with clashes of imagery that dissect the constantly
reinforced and re-circulated specular objecthood of the woman. Woman with Cannon (Dots), in particular, parodied the role of the
gaze as well as the Western iconographic trope of the vain
woman and tied it to the larger Cold War mentality that fueled the photographic
coverage of the war abroad as well as the consumer marketplace at home.
Rosler extended her exploration of surveillance
beyond her photomontages and concentrated on surveillance and feminine domesticity
in a series of videos and performances from the 1970s and into the early 1980s.
In Rosler’s 1977 video opera of three acts, Vital Statistics of a Citizen, Simply
Obtained, the primary act focused on a naked woman as men in white lab
coats systematically measured, poked, and prodded her, and finally judged her
statistical figure against the average, or mythic norm. This act, along with
the rest of the video-opera illuminated the screen of ideality inherent in
American mass culture, and the accompanying surveying gaze that falls upon
gendered, Othered bodies.[21] Rosler adapted
the 1977 video work from a 1973 live performance, and utilized the medium of
video to provide an extra layer of mediation and distance between the spectacle
of the nude female body on the stage and the viewer that was absent in the
original live performance. In the video performance of the
work, Rosler expanded the gallery-performance to
include a third act that appropriated and quoted photographs from historic
“pattern books” that propelled her deconstruction of a society obsessed with
measurement and statistics, as she overlaid those images with a narration that
addressed the violence inherent in statistical surveillance, all of which was
impossible in the original live, gallery-based performance.
As the video opens, after the title fades
to black, the voice of a female narrator, Rosler’s
own, announces over the blank screen: “This is an opera in three acts. This is
a work about perception.”[22] The narration continues against the flicker
of the imageless monitor, as Rosler introduces and
describes the three acts of the following ‘opera:’ the first occurs in real
time and ends in a montage, the second is symbolic, while the third is,
“tragic, horrific, mythic,” and about, “scrutiny on a mass level.”[23] As the narration continues, Rosler expounds on the hazards of institutionalized tests
and measurements and the implied risks or benefits such surveillance and
statistics bear forth. Slowly the scene on a stage appears onscreen and the
first act of the opera commences as the real-time action unfolds before the
camera, and a seated man appears on stage, dressed in a white lab coat, a
visual signifier of his presumed scientific objectivity, and calls out, “Next!”
as a female figure in street clothes, Rosler, enters
the stage. The seated “scientist” quizzes her with questions about her sex,
age, race, and ethnic background as a second man, also dressed in a lab coat,
hurriedly records her answers on a large swath of paper mounted on the wall behind
the stage. After the initial questions, Rosler moves
towards the paper on the rear wall, where her observers trace her contours and
literally measure every inch of her body, down to the depth of her vagina. A
group of women in lab coats formed a “Greek chorus” who in response to each
measurement sounded a whistle, a horn, or a bell to depending on whether Rosler’s measurement was above, below, or just average. The
contrast between Rosler’s narration and the real-time
performance on the screen hinges on the juxtaposition of the on-stage
statistical surveillance peep-show with a voice-over
meditation about bodies, self-perception, measurement, and judgment. In her
narration she directly emphasizes the way the internalization of statistics and
surveillance shape identity, as even at one point she notes that: “her mind
learns to think of her body as something different from herself… She sees
herself from the outside with the anxious eyes of the judged who has within her
the critical standards of the ones who judge.”[24]
The initial act is a singular, continuous
scene that at first, appears to merely recreate the 1973 performance with a stationary
camera in the original position of the audience as it surveys the stage in one
unmoving long shot that captures the measurement of Rosler’s
on-stage persona. However, Rosler did not just
re-perform the first act of the opera for the video camera. Instead, she took
advantage of the flexibility inherent in the medium of video, and included the
mediating, distancing narration, and montaged video segments of the on-stage
subject alternately dressing and posing in a little black cocktail dress and then
a wedding gown veil at the end of the first act. In the last moments of the
first act, we briefly see Rosler’s measured on-stage
persona wearing the pristine wedding gown and veil before the camera switches
to a close-up shot of the paper at the back of the stage with the recorded
contours and measurements of her statistical self.
Rosler included the men in both the performance
and video, “to imply a system. Actually, two men and
three women form the system. A chain of command is implied.”[25] This
implication parodied the position and construction of the screen and the gaze,
as well as the value that contemporary culture placed on statistical science as
a truth that dictated how one should
construct their individual identity. The enacting of the measuring, codifying,
and quantifying of the female subject, by the men in white coats, and the
submission of the subject to their commands created an embodied demonstration
as well as a visceral, direct connection. The reactions of the Greek chorus
only emphasized how completely and complacently we absorb, react to, and
approximate the ideality projected in the screen: “Women enforce subordination
in other women. I think that’s true of any subject population—there’s a sector
that mediates between the rest of it and the bosses. In this case the women are
the transmitters of male power.”[26]
Beyond the first act of the video, the
second act, is, “symbolic: what is the same, what is different. What is
outside, what is inside. Like Nana’s chicken–only here we deal with eggs.”[27] Rosler uses the
symbolic second act to further highlight the dissonance between the images that
appear in the external statistical screen and our individual inner realities.
The camera adopts a new perspective to omnisciently observe Rosler
as she crouches nude, next to an empty bowl and collection of several brown and
white eggs. The camera looks on as she proceeds to crack and open the eggs into
the bowl, revealing that obvious specular differences of the exterior are not
apparent on the inside, effectively and symbolically reminding viewers to avoid
the quantification and qualifications imposed by the ideality of mass cultural
representations. Rosler moves away from symbolism and
back to the concrete in the third act, in which she presents a montage of
projected still black and white images, that portray women’s and children’s
bodies being measured, while the narrator recounts a “litany of crimes against
women,” that, “have the effect of diminishing our capacity for self-control,
independence, and confidence,” such as femicide,
clitoridectomy, childbirth torture, and
wage slavery as outlined by the Tribunal on Crimes Against Women in 1974. [28]
In the third act, Rosler
appropriated the black and white images that appear on the screen from American
government books and pamphlets of measurements for “pattern design,” published
during the late 1930s. These books presented information culled from
measurements of large segments of the population, but focused solely on women
and children, and displayed them as faceless objects, merely an assemblage of
body parts followed by corresponding data with nothing more.[29] In her reproduction of the images and
guidelines on statistics, surveillance, and measurement published by the
American government earlier that century, Rosler
underlined the way the social, political, and economic networks of power all
converged to dehumanize populations.[30] To drive her message home, the video’s
layered barrage of information satirized the way knowledge reached the populace
in America in the 1970s (and today), in which, “a lot of things are drowned out
by what’s actually happening to us at the time, but simultaneously there are
insistent voices emanating from sources of power and authority.”[31] The durational medium of video permitted Rosler to transmit these multiple strata of information all
at once to the viewer, which created a complex critique of the social
constructs and networks of power in which the audience and the artist are both
embroiled.
In the three acts of Vital Statistics, Rosler wanted to,
“point out that neither photography nor science nor data-gathering were the
villains of the piece, that social practices determined how these elements of
human knowledge would be deployed in the formation of the categories ‘woman’
and ‘Other.’”[32] In her video-taped re-presentation of the
idealized image of the female body as it appears in mass culture, an object or
an assembly of measured parts at, above, or below standard, Rosler
both represented and interrupted the predominant ideals of feminine beauty
portrayed in the mass cultural screen. The actions of the “scientists” that
ordered a naked female figure around and measured her thigh circumference, toe
length, and vaginal depth immediately disrupted any voyeuristic pleasure derived
from seeing a naked female body onscreen. Rosler’s
emphasis on the act of measuring’s connection to judgement revealed the way
that statistics and surveillance inform the internalized roles of the surveyor
and surveyed in women as we attempt to approximate the ideality we see
projected in mass media.[33] Despite the efforts of the men in lab
coats and the ideality portrayed on the mass cultural screen, Rosler’s subject shows us that we must refuse the specular
reduction of our identities to a mere set of numbers that represents ideality
or banality, and, never “accept the idea that there is something to be learned
about the self from measurement.”[34]
Another
video by Rosler from the 1970s that engaged with the
omnipresence of surveillance, is Traveling
Garage Sale (1977). For this work, Rosler
similarly based the video on a performance, and recorded the video during her
second performance of her Garage Sale
series of works. What originally began as a site-specific performance and
installation in 1973’s Monumental Garage
Sale at the University of California, San Diego’s art gallery, eventually
grew into series of performances, photographs, and a video that extended from
the 1970s into the twenty-first century, in which Rosler
brought an aspect from life in the suburbs to the white walls of the gallery -
the garage sale.[35] Rosler noted that she
never saw a garage sale until she came to southern California, and she first
thought of them as quite strange, especially since where she grew up, in
Brooklyn, cast off items were given away, not sold.[36]
This uniquely suburban intersection between the home and the economy, the
personal and public, served as the impetus for Rosler’s
ongoing project, which, in 1977, morphed into the Traveling Garage Sale, and moved into the garage of La Mamelle Gallery in San Francisco, during which Rosler also recorded the video of the performance and
installation that bore the same title.
The
grainy, black and white video opens with a bird’s eye
view of a room occupied by several makeshift tables, built from doors, or
plywood, laid on cinderblocks, and covered in organized piles of books,
housewares, and toys. Clothing hangs on racks between the tables or on the
walls behind them. The overhead vantage point of the video becomes recognizable
as that of a closed-circuit security camera, an increasingly common feature in
the public and economic spaces of the 1970s. The camera’s gaze surveys the
garage sale from this omniscient vantage point in a remote corner of the room.
As a few figures move about the space, the camera zooms in on an individual
perusing the contents of one of the tables closest to the camera, and then back
out again, repeating the alternation between zooming in on individuals and
surveying the whole scene throughout the video. While the camera peers out over
the sale, Rosler’s pre-recorded audio-meditation
about garage sales and commodities that she played during her gallery-garage
sale performance serves as the narration to the scene, as it asks viewers to
reconsider the seemingly mundane, suburban event of the garage sale within the
context of the late capitalist military industrial economy and the gender roles
supported within that realm. On the recording, she cycles through seemingly
personal and impersonal statements such as: “If it’s about divestiture, why not
just give it away?” and: “She wonders, is it sacrilege to sell the shoes her
baby wore?” interspersed with quotations read from Marx’s examination of
commodity fetishism within Capital,
as well as mundane domestic observations from a perceptibly feminine voice. The
meditative mantra directly implicated the housewife’s concerns with Rosler’s larger socio-political critiques that centered
around the lives and meanings that adhere to the mass-produced objects we
acquire, and then alternately sell or give away.[37]
In
the Traveling Garage Sale video, Rosler replaced the watchful eye of the receptionist at the
gallery’s desk with the unblinking observation of a Kino-eye and brought the
typically obscured monetary transactions to the front and center of the
gallery’s processes. Through Rosler’s placement of
the desirable objects, such as paintings and gently-used
consumer objects in good condition, in the prime, well-lit locations near the
front of the gallery, and with the less desirable ones, like used diaphragms,
soft-core pornography, and undergarments in the dimly-lit rear of the gallery,
she clearly shaped and directed the movement of the “audience” throughout the
space. Her arrangement of the objects and space of the garage sale accorded
much deeper meanings to the visitors’ spatial locations than one might observe
in an ordinary garage sale, while it also heightened visitors’ awareness of the
networks and processes at work in something as seemingly innocuous as a garage
sale. The fact that the perspective of the camera is immediately recognizable
as that of a closed-circuit surveillance camera both reveals how pervasive that
technology has become while it also serves to distance the viewer from this
space that they gaze out over and control through the camera’s series of pans
and zooms. Throughout the whole videographic experience of the recorded
performance, Rosler’s repeated mantra reminds viewers
of the ways that social space is “a
(social) product” that produces and controls power, through a confluence of
social, physical, and mental space. [38] Rosler highlighted this
confluence as the narration about commodities and sales asked: “Why do we
fetishize things so much? If it’s about divestiture, why not give it away?”[39] Similarly,
she also placed the roles of gender, location, class, and commodity status at
the front and center of the performance, video, and installation by removing a
garage sale from its usual confines in a suburban neighborhood to a gallery
space, which rendered the everyday feminine, domestic space, into a topic for
critical re-examination. The distanced gaze of the closed-circuit video camera
in Traveling Garage Sale specifically
reminds viewers of the sexual politics of looking as well as the way the hybrid
domestic/public/private space of the garage sale within the gallery creates
identities and shapes actions in the larger networks of economic, political,
social, and cultural power.
In
a contemporary world where surveillance is an omnipresent part of our lives,
and in which everyone, man or woman, is familiar with
the experience of being watched, Martha Rosler’s
video and photomontage examinations of the extent of the presence and
indoctrination of surveillance in our society presaged in the 1970s what Edward
Snowden announced in 2013. Despite the fact that Rosler heralded the proliferation of surveillance as well
as its impact decades ago in the exchanged gazes in a photomontage such as Bathroom Surveillance or Woman with Cannon (Dots) and directly
implicated viewers as both voyeurs and participants in videos such as Vital Statistics, ironically women still
typically adopt both the external and internal surveying gaze of surveyor and
surveyed as they view themselves simultaneously both as a subject as well as an
object. This
public affirmation of the role of the gaze and the screen is particularly relevant
in a contemporary mass cultural landscape where women compete on reality shows
such as America’s Next Top Model and The Bachelor in which judges gather
statistics about the contestants, measure them against each other, and an
“above average” physical appearance helps to secure a win. Rosler
initiated an examination of the varied ways the internalization of surveillance
affects society in her photomontages and videos of the late 1960s and early
1970s, the awareness of which is of ever-increasing importance today.
an
international and interdisciplinary journal of postmodern cultural sound, text and image
Volume 18,
Winter 2021/2022, ISSN 1552-5112
Notes