photo Nate Yaffe
“Suzy,” he said, urgently, “should we call someone?”
The surveillance camera never blinks. Malicious or benign? From the sidewalk, the TV set makes blocky shadows dance across the wall, blue, drowning the figures frozen on the sofa with it’s soft strobe. What is seen can never be unseen. It’s got everyone talking, everyone knows.
Standing watching the screen, you are transparent, at once spectator and actor in the scene. Seen through the impassive eye of the surveillance camera, the_johnsons 00:21:51 is a collection of fragments from anonymous private lives or the lives of neighbours. In an era where privacy is a privilege, are there limits we cannot cross?
subdirectory_arrow_right the_johnsons_00:11:56