Webcams are a strange thing. They capture our most intimate private moments and then the images are instantaneously shot into a virtual world for all to see. What is it with this obsession? What kind of gratification or value comes from dispersing erotic or private shots into the technological abyss and why?
Cheryl Sourkes exhibit, Parking on Personal Webcams, examines these relationships and attempts to find visual beauty, intrigue and meaning through the images made by the sophisticated webcam tool, which produces crude yet visceral results.
1. What subject matter do you primarily choose to photograph, and why are you drawn to this subject matter?
All the work I’ve made this decade has originated in live-stream, Internet webcams. I’m interested in how the real world looks in the virtual world and vice versa, in what people choose to point their cameras at, and in what they’re willing to reveal. When I present this material in an art context, it gives an audience a chance to think about webcams in ways that are probably different from when they see them on the Internet.
2. What do you hope to communicate to an audience through your work?
My job as an artist is to pose questions. If I felt resolved about a thing, it wouldn’t inspire me to engage. Currently I’m provoked by thinking, “How are we changed by the ubiquitous presence of cameras and of ordinary life webcast in real-time?”
3. What are the biggest challenges you face in your work?
I photograph thousands of images. Thousands and thousands. When I’ve been watching a camera for a long time and somebody finally walks into the room, for an instant it’s very thrilling. I spend lots of time sorting through my archive. I find the greatest challenge is knowing what to do with my material, figuring out which images to use and how to produce them for exhibition. You know how people say, ’Artists suffer’? To my mind this is the juncture where suffering happens. You are alone with your material. You want to be true to it. You want it to communicate, and no one can help you. The uncertainty is anguishing. You are driven to resolve the work to obtain some peace of mind.
4. What is it about the photographic medium that you love?
The world is way deeper than any culture allows. It exceeds comprehension. When our worldview expands, it’s usually because we gain entry to an area between known categories. Photographing the world gives back more than we aim for. Plus the meaning of a photograph changes over time. In fifty years the most ordinary detail may become completely exotic.
5. What do you find to be the most rewarding aspect of your work?
I get to spend my time discovering! When I’m taking pictures I look at the world differently than when I’m living normal life. Normal life tends to be task-oriented. I find when I’m taking pictures I become more open to whatever’s happening in front of me. Also, part of my work is looking at pictures other people have made, now and throughout history. It’s a privilege. I’ve always found pictures very good company.
6. If you could choose three words to describe your work, what would they be?
Just three?
7. What part of your portfolio are you most proud of and why?
The early work I did with webcams was about surveillance. I suppose that was received wisdom. But as I kept looking I came to think webcams are more about people empowering themselves than people being scrutinized by authority. So I changed my approach. During the last few years I’ve worked with material from personal webcams. I’m proud of this work because I’m bringing a phenomenon forward for the public to consider while it is being invented and its influence on culture is still unknown.
Exhibit runs from April 30 - May 24
Peak Gallery
23 Morrow Avenue
