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Jesse Miller and Aaron Meyers




In the final scene of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1974 film The Conversation, surveillance expert Harry Caul (Gene Hackman) returns home. He plays saxophone, that most soulful of instruments, in long, moaning licks. Is there any other way to articulate the despair of being lonely but unalone?
The telephone rings, and on the other end we hear a recording of Harry and his saxophone from only moments earlier. The message is clear. He’s being listened to. Recorded. Monitored. Watched. Observed. Checked on. Scrutinized. Examined.
Who better than a surveillance expert, whose job is to turn everyday spaces into surfaces of inscription, to realize that everything he does leaves a trace, like the trail of a snail, by which he can be followed.
Where are They, the ones who listen? And who? And what do they want to know?