I think my obsession with derelict buildings is the same as my need to collect things, and my fascination with second-hand belongings. The imprint of a past function that has gone. You can only sense it, and only when you want to. Intuition, implication, insinuation. Subtlety.
There's a morbid fascination as well. Of course there is. I think there usually is when you're interested in the past. Organic found objects share the same story, because they were not made for me- I did not buy them or choose them. Pieces of dead animal, other people's belongings... It's all connected. I'm not that clear by what yet though.

27/10/11

Thoughts on collecting

I can't help myself; I have to get involved. I have to share my excitement. I'm a big ingredient in what it is that I do. I'm a tool. And a vessel. And a mass of energy and sincere wonder. That's what I need to explore.

23/10/11

Still from a short film that I made. Unpacking, ordering, obsessing?

Christian Marclay; 'The Clock' - Full screening 22/10/2011

Image source

This weekend I had the opportunity to do something that I believe not many people have done, and that is to see the full 24 hour screening of Christian Marclay’s incredible film piece, ‘The Clock’, and what a spectacular experience this was!

My friend and colleague Didge and I rolled up to the Slaughterhouse- the Plymouth venue that is housing Marclay’s piece, as well as several other BAS7 artists- as prepared as we could be, with blankets, cushions, warm socks and an extraordinary excitement to see this piece in its entirety. Officially the screening began at Noon on Saturday 22nd (though of course it runs in a 24 hour loop regardless of whether the exhibition space is even open or not), and ran through until noon today, Sunday October 23rd.

I’d not had anything to eat or drink for about 12 hours so as to avoid having to leave at all during the screening, so I know that I arrived already a little tired and dehydrated, but actually the first eight hours or so flew by for me; the hours ticked by like minutes. It’s a peculiar experience, constantly being confronted by the time, especially when you are confined to a dark cube and completely shut off from the outside world. You are left to assume that by about half past 6 it’s dark outside, that by half past 7 the next morning it’s getting light again and that people are getting out of bed and eating their breakfast. I found myself wondering a few times, though just a few, what I would be doing were I not there; making dinner, doing some writing, going to bed; what time do I even usually go to bed anyway? It’s an especially strange experience for someone that usually doesn’t have much of a routine, or at least doesn’t keep time on it.

Throughout the screening I kept a notebook as well, and whenever I had a thought, or heard a line in the film that I thought was significant, I noted it down along with the minute of its occurrence. It was interesting how many of the clips not only referenced time with the presence of a time-piece, but also did so in their content- an incredible feat of editing by Christian Marclay. In fact the more that I watched of this film, the more impressed and astounded I was by the skill and patience it must have taken to make. What you don’t necessarily realise as well when just watching this film in several minute long chunks, is that the different clips don’t only relate to each other through the theme of time, but they are also grouped together, creating small narratives within this epic film; People answering telephones, breakfast, trains etc., which not only keeps this film engaging (as if it needed any help with this!), but also allows you to be involved in these other realities, for example for about 10 minutes at around 9am this morning we saw people waking up, getting out of bed, saying ‘good morning!’.

I began to fade at around 10:30 pm, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about leaving then. In fact I spent a long time fighting with myself, trying to convince myself that I absolutely had to stay. The knowledge that although I had already devoted 10 and a half hours of my life to this film and wasn’t even half way through made it very difficult, and I found myself wishing, ridiculously, that the film was only 12 hours long- which of course would be a nonsense because no matter what happens, the day is always 24. From about 10 until 3am or so were hard hours, and actually felt like quite a struggle to get through- not least because we were sitting on a hard floor in a freezing cold stone building. The film never became any less interesting or engaging though, in fact is was hugely frustrating having to be so distracted by physical discomfort when all that you want to do is give yourself entirely to the experience of watching the full 24 hours.

This passed though of course, and obviously I stayed the full 24 (in fact, though slightly disappointed as well, I’m very proud to say that Didge and I were the only two that made the entire film without leaving at all), and to call this a mind-blowing experience would be no understatement. In fact, there’s no getting around it, Christian Marclay’s ‘Clock’ is without a doubt an absolutely outstanding piece of art; certainly the most impressive, thought provoking, engaging, EXHAUSTING piece of work I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.

I’m actually writing a piece for the third edition of Nebula newspaper about my experience with the clock, which should come out mid-November, so stay posted and there may soon be a less hyperactive, over-stimulated, nonsensical article to follow.

Until then, if you are in Plymouth or nearby, I must urge you to go and see ‘The Clock’! You will certainly not be disappointed by it.

Thoughts on 'The Clock'

12:03pm: Can you all leave; we’ve got a ticketed event now.

12:10pm: 10 minutes in. One 144th of the time completed.

12:15pm: Already I keep forgetting that I’m watching a clock. Time loses its importance. Knowing that I’ll be here for 24 hours in a way takes away all time pressures. Time is the focus, but it is also completely unimportant.

12:17pm: “I don’t think many people are constantly interested in having the exact time.”
“Don’t you know that we’re all going to die?”
That thought is kind of the focus of this film, and as time of time as a concept. When you remember to have it. Because with time also comes the passing of time. You can’t have one without the other.

12:23pm: There are clips as well that don’t reference the time, but that reference earlier clips that reference the time. We are keeping up with these realities still.

12:39pm: It does feel as long as 40 minutes does in the real world. Why is that? Is it because I’m not filling my time with things- I’m just being?

12:50pm: I keep accidentally thinking about the world outside, and it removes me from this space. I must try not to. When I emerge tomorrow at 12 noon, will I remember the events directly before I went in as if they had happened minutes before?

12:52pm: “I don’t want to live forever.”

12:59pm: You find links everywhere when you’re looking for them.

1:00pm: It’s been one hour. So strange. I can’t explain what an hour in the real world would usually feel like, but it doesn’t feel like this. This is totally disconnected from everything else. One 24th of the way.

1:03pm: “I haven’t got time”

1:06pm: There is no news here, there is no documentary. Nothing real.

1:21pm: Marclay has made this film in a way that all of the scenes and clips fit into each other and merge together. It plays like a feature film, but there’s no plot. You don’t need a plot, time is enough to connect it all together.

1:31pm: It’s been an hour and a half since we came in here, but still it seems as though it’s just been a minute.

1:35pm: Der Rosenkavalier

2:10pm: Time capsule; “Draw what you think the future is going to look like.”

2:14pm: “Make time stand still.”
One thing that you can’t do while watching Marclay’s Clock. There’s no escaping the passing of time in here. The minutes creeping by stare you in the face.

2:16pm: Didge says “It’s fucking freezing in here.”

2:33pm: “One’s emotional status determines the flow of time.”

3:00pm: One 8th.

3:30pm: This is so strange, because really although I am hyper-aware of time passing, it’s also passing in such a way that it doesn’t really feel like anything. I can remember the things that I’ve said and the thoughts that I’ve had, and in between that there doesn’t seem to be anything- just space. But I very much know what’s happening. Already, in less than 1/6 of the total time of this film, time is already beginning to change its meaning. I am experience every single minute- not necessarily for what it is, but as time that I am present inside of. No drifting off, no naps or feeling groggy. I am there. I am here. Until I actually make myself think of it, the outside world, the real world, doesn’t exist at all. This is a completely contained space.

3:52pm: When I leave here, will I panic not knowing the time? How much did I really care about time before? I’m always early, so perhaps that means quite a lot. But I don’t have a clock in my room, I don’t wear a watch. I don’t know what times I usually eat, or go to bed at night. For things like that I rely on my internal clock. It’s only when I venture into the outside world that I feel the need to engage with outside time.

3:59pm: I can’t believe that somebody made this film. It really is fantastic. Just fantastic.

4:00pm: 1/6. It still doesn’t feel like it. One sixth of the way through, and still 20 hours of the film left to see. What a strange thought. I keep forgetting that not only am I watching just one film, but also that it really is a full 24 hours long. Incredible. Will time go by this fast on the outside? I hope not, or I’ll be dead soon.

4:22pm: It’s a reminder of time, it never stops.

4:58pm: “Rule number one: No more clock.”

6:00pm: 1/4 there. What a weird thing that this film is already a quarter of the way over. 6 hours is a long time. A quarter of a whole day. A 28th of a whole week.

6:01pm: “Whether we blow ourselves up, or just end; There’ll still be time.”

6:19pm: Even after this time, there’s still that anxiety. That ‘I-have-something-better-to-be-doing’ feeling that you get from sitting around and watching television. Has Christian Marclay thought of this? Is this his intention? It makes you more aware of time in that sense as well- in what you would be filling it with otherwise.

6:25pm: Are we all going to get hypothermia?

6:55pm: Is it dark outside?

6:56pm: “What are you staring at?”
“Time.”

7:00pm: I don’t think I’ve ever watched television for 7 hours before. Even if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to. A waste of time, I’d have thought it. Is this in the same category? Is this a waste of time? Why do I decide that this is more important just because it’s an art film? An art film that’s made entirely of film and television that I’d scorn myself for watching too much of- that I would have considered ‘less worthy’. Is it just because I think that there’s meaning in this film piece? Why not in others? There are some strange thoughts and categorisations going on in my head at the moment.

9:07pm: I’m tired and uncomfortable and cold. I have a headache. But I don’t feel that I can leave or I’ll have never been able to experience this magnificent film.

9:27pm: Does Marclay mind that more than half of this film will be missed by most people? The only people in Plymouth that will see it are the people in this room right here. I suppose, as in ‘the outside world’, the night time house are missed by most.

951pm: Why did I think that this was going to be easy? Shouldn’t I have anticipated how hard it really would be?

10:05pm: “It’s time to move on.”

10:12pm: I don’t believe that this film was made to be watched all at once. Devoting 24 hours to watching a clock is a hard thing to do. An entire day of your life. And you sit, passive, letting it escape you, minute by minute, hour by hour.

2:58am: Dozed on and off for the last couple. But I could still hear the tick. That’s the way to do it; feel much better now. And I have a beanbag!

8:58am: 3 hours left to go. What a thing it is, being in this room, in this same spot for 21 hours. Just being confronted by time in all of these other realities. But in a way, in the last day, time has had very little meaning also because I have not filled it with anything.

9:00am: Good morning.

9:58am: I want tea and breakfast. I want back to the real world routine. I didn’t think about it before. And it’s not just because of going without for 2 hours, because that’s fine, that’s easy... It’s just that this film has made me think those things important; routine and order. Even if I didn’t have them before, I want them now. Breakfast at 8:30, lunch at 12:30, dinner at 6. Go to bed at the same time every night. What a dream.

10:32am: It’s important to distinguish that this is not just a series of film clips, this is a film. It runs like a film, scenes and music run into one another and cross over. Marclay has clearly made every effort to stop this film from being just a disjointed montage.

11:02am: The thing about watching ‘The Clock’ for 24 hours, the main thing, was that it was hard. I could lie and say that the brilliance of this film- and it is brilliant- made the hours just whizz by; indeed they did seem to go faster than usual, but 24 hours is still 24 hours, and that’s a very long time.

Nebula 2- Almost there

First draft