The part that stopped me was Suicide Box (1996), a camera pointed at the Golden Gate Bridge, quietly counting every time someone jumped. It sounds blunt, almost cold, yet I like the idea behind it. The artists (Natalie Jeremijenko and Kate Rich) flipped surveillance on its head: instead of policing people, the camera bore witness to a tragedy that the official numbers under-reported. I even looked it up afterward and found more debate and follow-up writing. Some people doubt the footage, others question the ethics of recording suicides. That tension actually makes the piece stronger for me; it shows how art can force uncomfortable truths into view.
What struck me next was how the essay treats technology as something physical and playful. Levin keeps pointing out that success often comes from the scene you build, not just the code you write: light a wall evenly, add reflective tape, adjust the lens. I like that attitude. It feels more like setting a stage than crunching math, and it makes computer vision sound approachable even fun for artists and students. The student project LimboTime, for example, came together in one afternoon with a webcam and a bright background. That shows how the simplest setups can spark creative interaction.
Overall, reading this made me want to experiment myself. The mix of raw data, social urgency, and poetic framing in Suicide Box shows how art and code can meet to notice what society tries not to see and maybe, slowly, help change it.