Guard the Guards

In the wake of the 2001 Twin Towers and 2005 London attacks, Rome underwent a visible transformation. The city became heavily militarized, with soldiers stationed outside embassies, monuments, and metro stops. This shift didn't just alter urban traffic; it fundamentally restricted the right to photograph. The list of "sensitive locations" expanded, and surveillance intensified in public spaces like train stations: places where I was frequently stopped by authorities despite official bans having expired. These confrontations sparked a two-year search for a way to document what I deemed an excessive deployment of law enforcement without risking further legal clashes. The solution arrived through Google Street View. I realized that the software allowed users to view the very locations forbidden to independent photographers. As one station official told me: "You could be a terrorist planning an attack." Yet, Google was permitted to map exactly what I could not.

In 2012, I published “The Rome Guide for Terrorists”: a counterfeit reproduction of a traditional tourist guide. Instead of idyllic postcards, it maps Rome and its surroundings through military bases, embassies, prisons, and the pervasive military presence at tourist landmarks. By highlighting these "illegal" views, I aimed to show that nearly every tourist photo taken in Rome exists in a legal gray area. The project is a systematic archive curated from Google Maps and Italian Army records, covering the city center, the outskirts, and neighboring military hubs like Bracciano, Cesano, and Nettuno. I meticulously edited these screenshots to remove Google branding (where possible), favoring framing and light that evoke classic urban landscape photography.

In 2013, the project won the Open Your Books award at the SiFest Savignano Immagini Festival. Despite significant interest, the book’s journey to publication has been turbulent. Many publishers balked at the provocative title and content; even though the images are legally sourced from the public domain, the subject matter was deemed too sensitive. Consequently, the work remains "clandestine," circulating primarily through exhibitions like “Uncensored Books” (2017), an exhibition curated by Natasha Christia at the Cultural Centre of Rethymno in Crete.

Recently, I revisited this archive to create a second chapter: “Guard the Guards”. This work shifts from a critical response to a philosophical paradox: the sight of military garrisons being "spied on" by Google. To me, these soldiers appear almost defenseless against Google the true "guardian of the world," possessing a global power that transcends the state. This reflection culminated in my first essay, “Photography in the Age of Hypercontrol” (Emuse, 2024). The book analyzes the work of over sixty international artists working at the intersection of surveillance and technology. It argues that modern surveillance is no longer just a tool of the police or government, but is deeply embedded in social networks and the web. If the guards monitor us, and Google monitors the guards, it falls to us to monitor Google and demand the regulations necessary for a free, democratic global society.

Francesco Amorosino took part in our Face-to-Face educational feedback program with Guest Reviewer and Curator Donal Weber. Amorosino is also part of »Guest Room: Sarker Protick & Donald Weber«.