When the Art Watches You Back

By Kristine Schomaker

Paul Bojack's Yes You at Z83 does something most art can't: it makes you the subject. Step into one of the private viewing booths and your image becomes part of the work, responding to what's on screen in real time. No metaphors, no abstractions—just you, literally part of the piece.

"The title came about because the show is participatory," Paul writes. "So when you view one of the vignettes, it very much becomes about you and how you respond to and interact with what's on the screen."

Fourteen pieces combine video, graphics, text, voice, and music with the viewer's image. Each lives in its own private booth where only one person can enter at a time. This setup isn't just practical—it's essential. Paul wanted to provide "an intimate space for people to respond to them" that "allows people the privacy to explore the work and be alone with their thoughts and emotions."

Roamin' Calendar

Paul comes from filmmaking—independent films where he worked as writer-director. Yes You shifts into conceptual, non-narrative territory, but he's drawing on everything he learned behind the camera. Both forms ask questions about seeing and being seen, just from different angles.

The project started in 2020 with a single piece. "The first pieces were very simple and consisted of just a word or a few words and the viewer's image," he explains. Now he has around thirty completed pieces with another ten or twelve in progress. The evolution happened through doing—discovering different ways to create these experiences using various elements viewers could react to.

His process begins with impulse. "An image, or a sound, or sometimes a voice or voices, people talking, or a line or two of text, something that sparks a strong emotional response, that takes my breath away." He follows that spark, takes notes, sketches the concept, then collaborates with a coder to make it real.

Sometimes the best discoveries come from mistakes. "A few times, there was a miscommunication with one of the coders I was working with regarding where and how an image would be used in a piece," Paul admits. "And some of those mistakes turned out to be better than my initial idea."

The fourteen pieces offer what Paul calls "a wide array of things to experience." Some are serious and confrontational. Others are elliptical and open-ended. Several are darkly funny, a few are light and whimsical. When you're asking people to become vulnerable participants rather than passive observers, that range feels necessary.

Paul's main objective is "to create an opportunity for people to look at various aspects of their lives, and the lives of others, from a different, unusual angle." When art literally incorporates your presence, maintaining distance becomes impossible. You're forced to confront not just what you're seeing, but how you're seeing it.

He expects visitors to experience "joy, wonder, anxiety, sadness, laughter, and probably some anger too." That emotional range makes sense for participatory art—when you become part of the work, you can't control what surfaces. The private booths create space for authentic response without performing for others.

"I hope they'll reflect on who they are and who they can become," Paul writes. When your image becomes part of the composition, when your movements shape what appears on screen, reflection becomes unavoidable.

Paul plans to keep developing pieces in this series, "pushing the boundaries of what these vignettes can do and finding new ways to interact with viewers." He's also exploring work that would include live actors, adding "an element of intensity and unpredictability to the room."

We live in a moment of constant surveillance—cameras, algorithms, systems tracking our every move. Paul's work transforms that watching into something more generous. In his viewing booths, being seen becomes an opportunity for discovery rather than violation. The watching goes both ways, and what emerges is the possibility of seeing yourself differently.

Even if just for a moment.

Yes You runs through July 18 at Z83, 2400 James M Wood Blvd, LA. Viewing hours: Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, 1-6 PM. More info at z83.paulbojack.net

Being There, text by Maria Rewakowicz