Meet the friendly new face of surveillance culture.
It's called FaceFinder, and since launching this summer, the smart sculpture resembling a gargantuan alarm clock has functioned like a high-tech photo booth in a courtyard off Sunset and Vine. Sheathed in aluminum and fronted by a glass-shelled video monitor screen, FaceFinder scans its target area outside Borders Bookstore, fixes upon a subject, captures his or her image with a camera concealed in its blob-like "ear," then magnifies every facial twitch at about six times normal size on a 5-foot video screen.
Meanwhile, a robotic projector culls images from the FaceTime database and sends 14-foot head shots of previous visitors to a nearby "wall of fame."
"People go up to the FaceFinder, play with it, or mock it, see if they can trick it," says creator Steve Appleton. "This whole dialogue occurs and the payoff is, there's this possibility that your face will join up with others projected on the wall."
Appleton is among a new breed of tech-savvy artists using motion sensors, 3-D cameras, robots and pattern-recognition software to put their own spin on a central fact of contemporary life: More and more, we are being watched. Security cameras capture the action at traffic intersections and border crossings -- and in malls, dressing rooms, airports, parking garages, hotel lobbies, museums. Cellphone cameras, Google Earth satellites and camcorders empower citizens to zoom in on celebrities and neighbors alike. Drones fly over Houston searching for "suspicious behavior."
Ingenious and pervasive, the monitoring of personal behavior in public spaces has given rise to an "art of surveillance" forged from tangled impulses encompassing interests in privacy, safety, exhibitionism, paranoia and good clean fun.
"I view these surveillance technologies as something I can use for aesthetic and dance-able purposes," says Appleton, a self-taught software wizard who wrote the code for his overall Face- Time system with Cal Arts-based programmer Steven Schkolne. "The kind of face detection we use was not possible at any level -- academically, NASA, anybody -- seven years ago. As artists we are now able to leverage this kind of technology. Since there ain't no getting away from it, let's take control."
While tourists mug for FaceFinder, commuters whizzing down Lankershim Boulevard in the Valley may or may not notice the blur of numerals flashing across the facade of NoHo Commons. Across the street from North Hollywood's Chandler Street subway station, "Drive By," completed in June by Los Angles duo Electroland, tracks each passing car with a violet-colored numeral that increases in value as the vehicle moves past the building. Electroland partner Cameron McNall says, "Our intention is really about, 'How can this building acknowledge that you're going by? And how can you know that the building is acknowledging you?' "
In the spotlight
Twenty-FIVE miles south in downtown San Pedro, residents can't miss Christian Moeller's "Mojo" robot. Perched on a cheerful red-striped pole in front of Centre Street Lofts, the sculpture, which went "live" in November, swivels, rotates and bends, shining a spotlight on random pedestrians who catch the attention of video cameras mounted on roofs. The cameras transmit data to a computer program that instructs Mojo to follow each selected subject down the street.
Reactions vary, Moeller says. "It produces what I call 'the friendly surprise,' but also, people are scratching their heads going, 'What is that?' The movement of the thing is so precise . . . Mojo has a predator kind of quality that creates a certain insecurity."
Moeller, a German-born ex-architect who moved west in 2001 to teach at UCLA's Department of Design/Media Arts, also created Daisy, a propeller-topped motion-sensor at Singapore Changi International Airport that pivots "like a mime" to interact with travelers. In Tokyo, his "Nosy" cameras blow up black-and-white video of passersby onto a 43-foot-tall bit-mapped wall of the Art Village Osaki office building.