The collection began in 1998 and continues to grow to this day. In some way this archive, this anthropological study traces the liminal nature of the intercom itself. From commercial offices, private apartments to social housing blocks, the intercom is a gatekeeper, marking the threshold, the space between outer and inner-worlds.

As a photograph, the intercom becomes a stand-in, a surrogate for the building and it’s occupants. Some, such as the more corporate looking device offer few clues to what lies behind. In this sense the intercom is simultaneously a screen and a screening device. For not only does the intercom lend itself to examination by the photograph, it too is a machine designed for interrogation. How many occasions have we found ourselves on a doorstep rehearsing the lines in our head before apprehensively pressing the buzzer? The intercom practices a kind of aural surveillance, the voice scrutinized, examined for details, keywords, or traces of recognition. Provoking a feeling that one stutter or hesitation may result in failure of admission.

Even in domestic situations the intercom carries out that cautious practice that was formerly the preserve of tentatively opening the crack in the door or a ruffling of curtains. They offer only the slightest of clues as to what lies behind the architecture of the building. The lists of names somehow hint a the compartmentalization of space, the organization of flats and apartments, in which any given cell can be called upon at the touch of a button as easily as throwing a stone at any given window.

Patrick Ward