A world that watches back:

By Ari Rose-Marquez

You’re walking down a bustling city street. You see a flash and hear the camera click. You watch as a stranger departs having captured your image.

You don’t quite know why they took your photograph or what they will do with it. It may feel invasive or violative.

But when you enter public spaces, you sacrifice your right to privacy. And to the photographer, this practice is simply their art. And the raw and candid nature of their photography may be sacrificed by asking for permission.

This kind of candid photography is most commonly known as “street photography.” It is the art of capturing candid pictures of people in public spaces.

Street photographers have to capture photos in fleeting moments and make quick, decisive choices about their subjects and composition. Sometimes, you may not even notice their presence.

One would think that thousands of cameras, in comparison, would be easier to spot. These are the cameras stationed under awnings, above entrances, in hotel lobbies and retail stores. They are the CCTV cameras and monitors neatly tucked away.

When you actually start to look, it’s incredible how much of our everyday movements are captured by these hidden cameras. Technically, public surveillance is street photography—but it feels much more Orwellian than the work of artists. And many more were added to the streets of Los Angeles in just the last year.

The art of street photography is rooted in truth-telling and holding power to account. Early street photography was more-often referred to as “photojournalism.”

Utilizing a camera, photojournalists crafted stories through photos. They documented global conflicts and events, and their work forced the public to confront issues head-on. Today, street photography refers to something different.

Los Angeles-based lifestyle photographer Anastasia Velicescu marks a difference between the work of photojournalists and that of street photographers. In doing so, it is clear that documentation and art can overlap.

“Capturing people in real time, you’re really capturing a part of history as it’s happening. I think it’s a really fascinating way to tell a story and a really authentic way as well,” Velicescu said.

Having your picture taken in public, regardless of the purpose, can be jarring or, to some, even offensive. The “Street Photographer’s Dilemma”, according to photographer John Hadley, is balancing between proximity, privacy and art.

Respecting people’s agency and their right to privacy would, in theory, necessitate asking permission before capturing their image. But timing is everything with street photography and photographers are able to express themselves freely in public.

Velicescu said she doesn’t tend to think about others’ privacy “too deeply” when she goes into public spaces to shoot. “If I can, I do want to protect people’s privacy,” she added.

But, she doesn’t have to—at least, not legally.

The State of California has some of the strictest privacy laws in the United States. But step foot onto a public sidewalk and you sacrifice most of those rights. When privacy rights are put up against the right to free artistic expression, they often lose. This is the arena in which street photographers thrive.

Yet much of the photography captured in public today has little to do with art—and more to do with collecting data. Most pictures and videos are captured not by artists, but by our home surveillance systems, businesses and the government.

In an era where both artists and machines are documenting public life, are we being watched? And do we care who is watching?

Because of their hidden, normalized and legally shielded nature, surveillance cameras aren’t as noticeable nor disruptive as the street photographer.What is done with that image is entirely different.

Velicescu distinguishes between her work and that of surveillance cameras.

“I don’t think of surveillance when I think of my art because there’s security cameras everywhere. When you’re walking on the street in front of a store, your image is being captured,” she said, adding, “those video cameras are for a very different purpose. I’m taking photos for art.”

Maybe a photographer sticking a camera in your face feels invasive, but it is relatively harmless when compared to the numerous cameras surveilling our every move.

There are estimated to be well over ten million cameras in Los Angeles County alone, according to audio and video forensic analyst Doug Carner. He believes that our perception of privacy and security is skewed by our limited understanding of the surveillance around us.

Dr. Morten Bay, a lecturer and researcher of technology ethics at the University of Southern California, holds a similar view to Carner.

“It’s not so much the practice itself that’s scary, but it is the lack of people’s awareness and the lack of regulation around it that I think it unsustainable where it is right now,” Dr. Bay remarked.

“The biggest problem we have in terms of privacy with this is that once you’ve let go of your data, you have no control over where it goes and you have no control over who does what with it,” he added.

L.A.-based street photographer Jeremy Paige says he is unconcerned about privacy when he’s shooting in a public space. His reasoning, like that of Velicescu, contrasts with the concerns of Carner and Dr. Bay.

As with many street photographers today, Paige posts his photography to the internet. He accumulated a large social media following through his photography, with over 130,000 followers on Instagram.

“In this day and age, people are hyper aware. They know. If you’re walking around the street and you’re taking a photo, [people know] that photo is going to end up somewhere,” Paige said.

And Paige has a point. With billions of users on social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook, there are billions more images and videos of us that inevitably end up on the web.

“Where is all this data going, all this stuff going? I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, to be completely honest. It’s one of those things where ignorance is bliss, essentially,” he said.

In public spaces—particularly in Los Angeles, many of us have become accustomed to the idea of having our image captured and posted (sometimes inadvertently or unknowingly). It is a sacrifice we make in order to utilize public spaces.

As for what happens to those images, it is a question of where those images are posted and how they are eventually used that concerns some surveillance experts.

We are in a society now where we are subjecting ourselves to other people’s surveillance and giving away data about ourselves—surrendering our privacy rights—in cases where we’re not even aware of it.” -Dr. Morten Bay

Large corporations and media companies are able to use and monetize any imagery posted to their platforms, without the need for consent from the subject.

Paige notably does not profit from his street photography. He doesn’t sell prints, zines or books of his photographs but said he will gladly share—or delete—images if requested by his subjects.

But as with all photos shared on social media, they are subject to the ownership of whatever platform it is shared on, regardless of if you know or if you are OK with it.

“Those photos will be uploaded to databases that the platforms control. They will be subject to facial recognition, object recognition, A.I…. what facial expression they were having… all of that will be analyzed automatically by these platforms,” Dr. Bay added.

Hear from Doug Carner, an audio and video forensic specialist and expert witness from the trial of george zimmerman

We know that our images last on the internet forever. However, we don’t tend to think about how our everyday moments are being captured and used.

Once seen exclusively as a form of artistic and democratic expression, street photography now lives in a gray zone. Public photography is legal—entirely—but in an era of mass surveillance, has piqued public interest.

It may still be unclear how our image will be used, but a street photographer provides us the benefit of knowing who is capturing it. Both Velicescu and Paige are storytellers, and they choose to use their craft to capture and and share in the human experience.

“It is one of my greatest passions to just document the places that I’m in and the people who I’m surrounded with… it’s just my art and it has that purpose.” -Anastasia Velicescu

The question becomes not “are we being watched?” But rather, who should have the right to observe?

As Carner noted, “security is an illusion… It’s only valid until you learn otherwise. Everyone believes they’re secure until they’re proven wrong.”

Until the motivations of street photographers become as obfuscated or concerning as those operating surveillance cameras, how concerned should we really be?

For cameras are ubiquitous. It is the stories told through capturing our image that may interest us more.