Throughout history, the government has used public safety as its biggest argument to justify the surveillance of its citizens. But civil rights activists have long argued that surveillance tactics, particularly facial recognition, can be particularly harmful in Black and Brown communities, where mugshot databases are often used to identify people.
Now, Brooklyn-based video artist Kameron Neal is turning the camera on the NYPD with his film installation Down The Barrel (Of A Lens) on display at Lincoln Center from September 29 through October 3.
For the 25-minute piece, Neal uses rare, recently digitized NYPD surveillance footage from the 1960s to the 1980s. He presents the clips as a two-channel film installation – one channel shows civilians looking into the camera. The other features abstract images of NYPD officers filming themselves. And the result is a powerful statement about policing and surveillance.
I spoke with Kameron Neal about his project and how art can play a role in civic life.
Neal began work on Down The Barrel (Of A Lens) in 2021 as part of a residency with New York City’s Department of Records. While there, he discovered a collection of NYPD surveillance films from 1960 to 1980 recorded by plain-clothes officers. Although the film was silent and in black and white, Neal says the often-haunting imagery, captured during a turbulent time in the city’s history, spoke volumes.
“It felt like such a rich, complicated historical record in that it’s coming from the NYPD’s lens. There was so much happening at this time in the country and in New York City. It was the height of the Black Panthers, the Civil Rights movement and the Vietnam War was happening. It was really the rise of these different countercultures. And I was interested in exploring what it means to be surveilled,” he said.
But it wasn’t all protests and demonstrations. Neal points out that in some of the archived footage, people stop to look directly at the camera lens. And some footage shows the officers looking at themselves, including one moment included on a roll with protests at a construction site in Queens, which he says inspired him to take a closer look.
“The clip took place in Rochdale Village in 1963. They were building what was meant to be an integrated housing complex, but weren’t hiring integrated labor to construct it. So there were all of these demonstrations by the NAACP in response to that,” he said.
Neal adds that while part of the roll showed Black people chaining themselves together to try to stop the construction, the end of the film showed an officer’s kids playing with friends in the neighborhood, a stark contrast he felt highlighted the power structure at the time.
“There was something about the fact that on this same roll of film there were these folks at this demonstration, and then there were these kids who are comfortable in front of the camera with their dad,” he said. “The camera felt like it was connected to all of it and was heightening these dynamics between the person being surveilled and the person doing the surveillance.”
Neal says he hopes his work will spark conversations about the greater impact of surveillance on our society.
“I hope it makes people more aware of the ways in which surveillance is affecting everyone’s day to day lives. What elements of your privacy are you giving up for safety? Because it can be uncomfortable tradeoff,” he said.
He wants to find other opportunities to showcase his work across the city’s five boroughs and continue to engage as many people as possible in this important conversation.
“In many ways, the project is documentation of New Yorkers and their experience so I would love to give it back to the people,” he said. “I feel like every time I show the piece, I meet more people and learn more. It feels like an ongoing conversation.”