Cohen has always been enchanted by the kinetic light of the television screen. Since her early twenties, she has followed its fluorescent blue glow, photographing it at night when its gleam emanates from living rooms, hotels, bars, campgrounds, trailer parks, and gas stations across the country and throughout the world. She has recorded these moments when we are all connected by the same news broadcast, baseball game, or soap opera – in the act of washing dishes, making love, drinking beer, or babysitting. She received her first camera as a gift from her friend and fellow filmmaker, Joel Gold. At the time, she was making television and was fascinated by the relationship between technology and intimacy. Immediately, she began to photograph these nighttime landscapes from coast to coast, north to south. And yet, the importance of the locations seemed to diminish as the architecture of gas stations and motels lost their regional identity. It seems like an archeological discovery to see a Native American watching television in his teepee or to catch the electronic glare radiate from a Santa Fe faux-adobe home.

After a while, Cohen started shooting images straight off the airwaves as a disconnected record of history. She shot television sets in interiors to record where we watch, how we watch, and how we decorate television. Much of our lives are consumed by this ferocious piece of furniture - it is only fitting that we often ornament it so lovingly. These images shift from documentary to big-screen single frames, fractions of seconds removed from a narrative. We don’t know the conversation, the soundtrack of intrigue, only that all too familiar action of switching channels, adjusting the dial, and watching. When Joel first saw these photographs, he said, “TV is the glue that keeps us apart.”