On Standby
Mirrored images of a bland and anodyne office space repeat endlessly, in the composite photographic print “On Standby.” Within this space office partitions are blocks, on the assembly line towards producing and assimilating productive employees. Reflecting the alienating experience of call centers, it is not difficult to imagine an employee inhabiting this space in a state of perpetual suspension, constantly on standby awaiting the next call. The revolving conveyor belt of consumerism leads to calls with people on both ends of the line staring numbly at a screen, in perpetual limbo, both feeling anonymous, powerless and exploited. Hypnotized by the monotony of the work and entrapped in this vicious cycle, the worker in this factory of misery grinds along for time spent outside this modular enclosure. The catch is that life on the outside is nearly the same, except the miserable employee is now the disgruntled consumer, in a different department of the capitalist operation, sitting on hold, waiting to speak with their replacement. The emptiness we are left with reflects the impersonal nature of this never ending queue.
Mirrored images of a bland and anodyne office space repeat endlessly, in the composite photographic print “On Standby.” Within this space office partitions are blocks, on the assembly line towards producing and assimilating productive employees. Reflecting the alienating experience of call centers, it is not difficult to imagine an employee inhabiting this space in a state of perpetual suspension, constantly on standby awaiting the next call. The revolving conveyor belt of consumerism leads to calls with people on both ends of the line staring numbly at a screen, in perpetual limbo, both feeling anonymous, powerless and exploited. Hypnotized by the monotony of the work and entrapped in this vicious cycle, the worker in this factory of misery grinds along for time spent outside this modular enclosure. The catch is that life on the outside is nearly the same, except the miserable employee is now the disgruntled consumer, in a different department of the capitalist operation, sitting on hold, waiting to speak with their replacement. The emptiness we are left with reflects the impersonal nature of this never ending queue.
Mirrored images of a bland and anodyne office space repeat endlessly, in the composite photographic print “On Standby.” Within this space office partitions are blocks, on the assembly line towards producing and assimilating productive employees. Reflecting the alienating experience of call centers, it is not difficult to imagine an employee inhabiting this space in a state of perpetual suspension, constantly on standby awaiting the next call. The revolving conveyor belt of consumerism leads to calls with people on both ends of the line staring numbly at a screen, in perpetual limbo, both feeling anonymous, powerless and exploited. Hypnotized by the monotony of the work and entrapped in this vicious cycle, the worker in this factory of misery grinds along for time spent outside this modular enclosure. The catch is that life on the outside is nearly the same, except the miserable employee is now the disgruntled consumer, in a different department of the capitalist operation, sitting on hold, waiting to speak with their replacement. The emptiness we are left with reflects the impersonal nature of this never ending queue.
