Digital memorials are not a new mode of remembrance though there are only a few for migrants who have died crossing the United States-Mexico borderlands (see Fatal Migrations, Yo Tengo Nombre, Border Memorial, and 2487). More than that, there are few memorials in general that honor the large-scale humanitarian crisis unfolding along the border. But digital memorials offer a way of reaching a larger public and challenging the norms of who technology works for and what it can and cannot do. For instance, the 360 camera used for Vistas de la Frontera, the GoPro Max, has mostly been showcased as a camera for extreme sports. Videos of what the camera can do often focus on its ability to capture mountain bikers riding through rugged terrain or surfers catching big waves. These videos show how clear 360 footage can look when under extreme movement. 360 technologies have come a long way, but the use of cameras for outdoor pursuits really highlights who the camera is made for and how they will be used in the future. In Vistas de la Frontera the camera’s lenses did not need to capture extreme conditions, but rather the slightest movements of the desert. Small breezes, passing cars, insects flying or crawling along the ground. All these small changes in a seemingly still environment are essential to understanding the place captured in each video as somewhere that existed both before and after the camera is turned on. Using the camera for something other than its marketed function is part of reconceptualizing the work of new technologies and the possibilities of reimaging for whom it can work.

With new technologies comes important lessons about how they work. Part of learning to use this camera was understanding how 360 lenses capture in all directions simultaneously. Questions of visibility are important to Vistas de la Frontera in several ways – what is visible in the video? Who is being honored and how does that relate to them being seen or recognized on a larger scale? And from a very practical perspective, where does one hide when the cameras are meant to capture in all directions at once?

The camera can be activated with the GoPro app from up to 90ft. Emitting its own wifi signal, the camera is capable of being self-sustaining in certain ways – it can be operated remotely and will take pictures at specific set intervals. However, out in remote parts of the desert the wifi is extremely spotty and unreliable. The app only connects on certain occasions. From a very practical perspective, setting up an app to work while a group of people waits is not only nerve-wracking, but it also doesn’t always work. Regardless, it doesn’t solve the biggest problem: where to hide?

My choice to hide and not appear in the videos is a deliberate one. Vistas de la Frontera is a memorial above all else, so the presence of a person in the frame would undermine the very real losses at the center of the project. Capturing the absence of someone relies on prioritizing the ways in which the place has been impacted by the loss of life in that particular spot. Showing each place as a site worthy of remembrance and reverence allows for deeper understandings of the entanglements of policy, movement, and the environment.

Gradually, I learned how to hide in the desert brush. I became accustomed to the angles that the bushes made and where they were most dense. I’d set the camera and hide, usually crouching, in the densest place nearby. I also learned where the camera’s stitching points were – 360 cameras use wide angle lenses on both sides and are stitched together via software when they are imported. These stitching spots are both movable in editing software and the perfect place to hide. I participated in quiet moments of reflection while counting the seconds as the camera recorded. The natural occurring sounds of each space are essential to capturing the reality of the space itself. Sound is both linked to the movement on the screen and, in many cases, the silence that surrounds the deaths of thousands of people in remote and dangerous landscapes. My own stillness in these moments allowed for a quiet moment of remembrance for the person who died.