Its curators concede that words used in photography are also used in hunting. Capture. Shoot. Release. Like a hunter, a photographer either sneaks up on prey or chases after it. The strength in Walker Evans’ composition lies not only in a clever use of thirds, but in his covert methods. Nobody knows their photos are being taken candidly. Yale Joel photographed people as they arranged themselves in a one-way mirror – spying on people going about the everyday and capturing them at their most vain. Some people made a television programme based on that idea, franchised it and called it Big Brother.

Exposed is an intelligent and informed show. Everywhere you go in the exhibition, you cannot escape what artyfarts call “the gaze”. If you feel dirty viewing Gilles Peress’ images of the Rwandan Genocide, you should. If you’re captivated by Merry Alpern’s sneaked shots through a bordello’s window, brilliant. The show is showcasing the theft of privacy and questions the basic notion of privacy. You should walk out of it feeling like a thieving pervert. What steals your soul isn’t the act of photography, but consuming the image and walking away without considering it. You ask yourself at what point does nosiness and prying become art? At what point does the documentation of death and oppression become pornography?

Surveillance is a “functional image taken with purposeful intent”. As you walk around the show, look up. Find one of the five million CCTV cameras in the UK gazing at you with impassive regard. Then see if you can view the show with your new, more complicit eyes.

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This article was first published in Juxtapoz Magazine, 28 May 2010. Click thru for the photos.

It’s strange because although I really like them as people, I know they’re capable of better work than what’s being produced. I wish they’d shake the fear of being labeled political and actually embrace that element in their work – collage and montage offer a unique opportunity to sharpen an edge. As it stands, they’re aesthetically competent but lacking in venom. Something tells me their heart really isn’t into the street work but that they know they’re onto a good thing because it has proved commercially popular.

I also know the Miss Bugs isn’t exclusively what the collaboration do. One of them in particular likes to keep that work separate from the street scene. Work which draws from the ephemeral and landscape. But that’s all I’m allowed to say.

Am I one of those people who don’t rate things unless there’s a political text then when they have one, slate their lack of aesthetic?

Anyway. Here’s the piece.

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Photo courtesy Miss Bugs.

I did, however, catch up with a few old friends, make a couple new acquaintances and feigned coolness when spoken to.

And even managed to bang out a piece for Juxtapoz Magazine.

God I ache from being so cool

It was put on by arguably the best artists in that town’s street art scene – Know Hope, Klone, Zero Cents, and Foma.

Know Hope put me up in his studio/apartment at the other side of town. Zero Cents introduced me to the wrongest and best hot dog (in a sesame seed roll, with mayonnaise and fresh salad). Klone went all Russian on me and Foma showed me that anything boys can do, women can do better. Good times, good art, good friends.

My only issue is my rather, er, “heavy-handed” security check entering and leaving Israel. On my departing flight I thought “If this plane crashes, the last person to ever touch my breasts would’ve been 5′4″ and called Yonit.”

The story, the pictures, and the video can be found here.

More pictures can also be found on my flickr here.