Fotograf Magazine

It is almost 9 pm. I am standing in one of the PinchukArtCentre’s hallways, directly opposite the toilet door. A webcam is attached to my forehead, broadcasting everything that happens in front of my eyes into the exhibition space. The art centre is about to close in several minutes, the staff is kindly ushering the remaining visitors to the exit. The toilet is out of order — at least that is what is written on the announcement stand in front of it. People are passing by. One of the institution’s guards — a young suited security guy — comes up to the toilet, removes the stand from his way and confidently walks in. Stop. Recorded.