Bruce Nauman, the godfather of claustrophobia, surveillance, paranoia, and dark-aggressive humour, is currently the subject of a dual museum retrospective. The Museum of Modern Art Moma shows, among other disquieting works, the artist’s endlessly frustrating installation “Going around the Corner” (1970) where a large white room, without ever offering access, can only be helplessly circled. Video cameras on the top of each of the four corners record visitors who watch themselves on monitors at the end of each wall just as they are about to turn the corner. It is a scathingly brilliant commentary on the destructiveness of self-observation and the passive-aggressiveness of video surveillance.  At Moma PS1, the museum’s hipper sister, the architecture of the former public school with its long-polished corridors from which dark rooms beckon with the agony of sound and light, feels as it the lunatic asylum has come to play host to Nauman’s already unsettling oeuvre. And yet, Nauman knows that we can’t stop watching – like his video installation “Fat Chance John Cage” (2001) where the quiet nocturnal recordings of his New Mexico studio are occasionally punctuated by darting mice and howling coyotes. It is Nauman at his best: Simple concepts that heighten the senses and evoke a creeping sense of dread that end in the realization that there is no such thing as an empty room and that someone is always watching. At Moma and Moma PS1 through February 25.