(1977; 16mm film, sound; 82 minutes; Laura Lehrer, dir.; unreleased)
I’d like to talk about Zero Zone.
- That wasn’t part of our agreement.
- But it’s impossible to ignore. It’s part of your work.
- There’s nothing left to say.
- You haven’t said anything publicly.
- It was all in the news.
- But I’m interested in your thoughts on the piece. About what happened.
Jess is back in the chair. She takes a breath and holds it, lifting her chin as if attempting to make herself larger, puffing up in defense.
Laura sounds like a narrator now, reciting facts:
- Zero Zone was a concrete room you constructed in the New Mexico desert near an abandoned military base.
Jess looks toward Laura, then into the lens, defiant, a criminal hearing the charges against her.
- There was a small group of visitors to the room who refused to leave. Danny Aguado, Tanner Helm, Martha Reed, Isabella Serrano. They said that they saw something in there. And then they began to keep others out.
Jess nods and looks away.
- That’s when I first heard what was happening.
- From the man who owns the ranch?
- Yes.
- What did he say?
- He asked me what to do. These people didn’t have much food or water. They wouldn’t accept anything. It was incredibly hot in there. It wasn’t designed for—no one was supposed to stay inside that long.
- Eight days.
- Yes.
Off-frame, somewhere down below, a car’s engine growls, rolling by.
- The rancher called the authorities.
Jess looks toward the camera, defiant again.
- I told him to call.
- Were you surprised by what happened?
- Of course. How could I not have been—
- That wasn’t your intention?
- My intention? No, how—there was no intention.
- You had no intention when you created the site?
- That’s not how I work. That’s not what we’ve been talking about.
- But visitors to your other pieces have had very strong reactions.
- Some have, yes.
- And wasn’t that your intention?
- That these people would starve themselves? Supplicating in a concrete room for a week?
- It was a reaction to your work.
- I can’t control someone’s reaction.
- But you create the space.
Jess starts to speak but then stops herself. Her mouth tightens to a thin line.
Laura’s voice returns, pressing.
- Someone died in that space.
Jess stands and walks deeper into the studio, creating distance, losing focus, shrinking in the frame against the blank white wall. She stops, her back to the camera, a hand on her hip, staring into the white.
The camera zooms in, pursuing Jess, pinning her against the wall. The only sound is the tiny clicking of film winding through the camera, then Laura’s voice, which sounds closer now, as if she has also followed Jess across the room.
- What did that space mean to you?
Jess shakes her head, either unsure or refusing to answer. Laura speaks again.
- What did it mean to them? To the people who stayed inside?