Panopticism- Surveillance and Voyeurism. Task 1.

Thomas Ruff

This image is blurred and grainy, inviting scrutiny and close study on the part of the receiver. The result? We end up looking even more closely at the detail of the image, working hard to work out what it is… and then feeling vaguely self-conscious, almost wanting to look around and see if we’ve been caught looking at the elicit part. The desired effect.

It could be interpreted that Ruff is giving us a veiled message about the freedom of thought and expression in the modern world: on the face of it, there is access to explicit materials – yet there are imagined or untenable barriers to the free viewing, selling, publication, discussion and acceptability of the images.

A significant number of the photographs in the series are black and white. Black and white photography generally evokes a romanticised response, an implication that doesn’t necessarily sit comfortably with erotic images. This is one of the paradoxes that it seems Ruff has been keen to exploit. Additionally, the black and white image makes it more difficult to distinguish the lines between the subjects, meaning they are not well defined. Again, this requires the receiver to focus harder still on the image. When they realise what the image is, they may realised that they have been ‘duped’ into being more voyeuristic than they believed themselves to be.

This image at first view is a simple, intimate portrayal of a loving relationship. The eye at first focusses on the strong and defined arm of the male, offering a protective cover for the female; her hand with a slight and tender touch in contrast.
Its representation is traditional in outlook.

It is only when we examine the image more closely that we recognise the intimate sexual act taking place. To have noticed it, we must have been drawn in. Is this because of the deep black of the female’s clothing? Or because we follow the naked man’s form downwards? The artist seems to want to leave that to the receiver.

Henri Cartier-Bresson

The subtlety of the surveillance in this Bresson image, taken in Trafalgar Square on the day of King George VI’s coronation, amuses me...

The portrayal of ‘surveillance’ is somewhat ironic: The crowd is clearly paying attention to something over the right shoulder of the photographer and so, on first glance it does seem as though the surveillance of the crowd by the photographer is going unnoticed. And then you search the faces of the crowd. It becomes apparent that the photographer has not escaped the glare of everyone and is indeed under surveillance himself from the young boy in the centre of the frame. The irony is heightened by the fact that we cannot quite judge whether the boy’s natural child-like inquisitiveness is the reason for his keen eye – or whether it is just his own notion/liking of ‘being surveyed’ through a lens. 


There is a man lying (hurt, injured or drunk) discarded, like the litter, on the floor less than three feet away from the spectators – and yet not a single eye is focussed on him or his struggle.

The composition of this image is so perfect that, were it another photographer, we would be convinced it had been staged.

Positioned perfectly above the ‘fallen man’ is the young boy. Both occupy a central position in the image. The boy, the only person in the image to be caught looking directly at the photographer, appears to stand out from the crowd literally as well as metaphorically – he is not crushed together with the herd, he stands apart, alone. 

The aloof dignity and the idea of ‘looking the other way’ synonymous with post-Victorian Britain is neatly represented literally.

Kohie Yoshiyuki

The third image is one I have chosen because it crosses the boundaries between voyeurism and surveillance, muddying the distinction between the two. 

In an interview, the curator responsible for exhibiting this work said: “I turned out all the lights in the space, and gave each visitor a flashlight. That way I was reconstructing the original settings. I also blew the photos up to life size.” Quizzed further, he replies: “that's how I wanted them to be viewed. I wanted people to look at the bodies in the photographs an inch at a time. But this is an uneasy situation. When it's completely dark, the whole photograph is illuminated, but the viewer looks at it section by section. My original concept involved a corridor where points of light would be focused on the photographs. Viewers would look at them slowly ... carefully.”

http://www.americansuburbx.com/2009/03/interview-nobuyoshi-araki-in.html 

After considering the theory of panopticism, we question how we would actually make use of the flashlight and which sections of the image we would feel comfortable pausing over – especially when other people, potentially lovers of art – are watching. There is a paradox between the artist’s courage and nerve in taking the image and the receivers’ hesitancy in enjoying the art.

In this image, it is the power of suggestion that is strong. Knowing the series, we know that the men in the image are ‘peepers’. Their stance and posture tells a story of three men trying to conceal their presence: one crouching low, in hiding, leaning slightly to enhance his view, one bending over the other, semi-straight in the hope that it’ll be accepted that he is not looking too closely, seeking a little solace in the solidarity of others in his pursuit, and the third, bent at the waist. Focussed. Intent. Hiding but ready to run. The fact that they are in a natural setting, framed by the plant life, makes them seem incongruous and unnatural. The fact that the photograph has been taken using infrared gives it an air of reconnaissance, almost as if the viewer themselves is spying on the voyeurs with night vision.