We believe in CCTV as an almost absolute truth, an above-human system literally watching over us. It defines a new urban reality. How do we fit in this panopticonal reality and how do we know if we even exist in it? Does the system register our reality or its own? If we are aware of being watched, are we then still a suspect? Are we then still being watched?

I am always here is a video installation by Sylvain Vriens that deals with CCTV and the way it influences our reality. It features a CCTV-system that monitors the room in which it is present. It does this in real-time, showing the events in the room instantaneous. It seems to show an exact copy of our reality. The monitor and camera hang just above door-height and look down on those visiting the room.

I am always here is a seemingly normal CCTV-system. It hangs fairly unnoticed on the wall of the room and most people will walk past without noticing. But once it is noticed and a visitor looks up trying to see himself, he will only see the surrounding room and just a glimpse of his own image quickly fading out. It is as if he views the room as it would look without him being present.

The CCTV-system creates its own reality by filtering out those things that it finds 'uninteresting'. In the case of I am always here it filters out the people who are aware of its existence. CCTV’s preventive powers are claimed to be based upon awareness. A person looking straight into the camera is fully aware of being surveilled and won’t be seen as a possible suspect and is uninteresting from a surveillers point of view.

View on Vimeo.

move away, leave me alone, step back

ev_lines is a generative interactive video-installation which reacts to a spectator in a stressful way. In 'rest' the screen is black with one line slowly moving across the screen.

As soon as a spectator moves closer the algorithm speeds up, generating more and more lines with increasing speed until the screen is almost fully covered with white lines. As soon as the spectator moves back the system falls back to it’s state of rest with again one line slowly moving across the screen.

The television constantly hums softly and the more stressed the system gets, the louder it hums, up to a loud buzz.

Always too late. Always too late.

An interactive video installation addressing the issue of always having to be reachable by phone. In an age where everybody has a cell phone, how frustrating do we find it when we can't reach somebody?

The installation consists of an old telephone and an old television. The television displays security-footage of an empty (office) space, switching between viewpoints every couple of seconds.

Two scenarios:

1. The surveillance shows a person entering the room. He sits down and dials a number. He waits. The old telephone starts ringing. It keeps ringing. "Ring" "Ring" "Ring" The man waits. At the moment a visitor answers the phone the man is tired of waiting so long and hangs up frustrated and leaves the room. The visitor is left with an empty room and a busy-tone.

2. A visitor picks up the phone and dials a random number. Subtitles claim the on-screen telephone is ringing. The visitor waits. Waits. Waits. Gives up. Hangs up. And then a man comes running into the room and picks up the phone. "Hello?" "Hello?" He hangs up and leaves the room again.