On Returning to The Clock by Christian Marclay

The Clock Chart

Last night I returned to see Christian Marclay’s The Clock at MoMA. This was my third visit; I first saw it at the Lincoln Center Festival in July, from 3:15 p.m. to 6:33 p.m. Here’s what I wrote back then. It’s now at MoMA, and I had to go back because it’s so mesmerizing. Last Friday I saw it from 10:35 a.m. to 2:32 p.m., and last night I went yet again. On weekends it runs 24 hours, and I really wanted to see midnight, as well as 10:04 p.m., when lightning strikes the clock tower in Back to the Future, which I’d read was included.

I got to the museum last night around 8:15. There was just a 10-minute wait to get into the theater; not bad at all. I entered at 8:33 p.m. I worried I’d have to go to the bathroom in the middle of it and thereby forfeit my seat and possibly miss midnight, but I wound up being OK.

Here’s some seating advice for The Clock. The viewing area consists of rows of low white couches. At MoMA, there are three couches per row, forming two interior aisles (in addition to aisles on the sides). I’ve found that the best place to sit is on an interior aisle, on one of the side couches. If you sit on the aisle you get an armrest, and if you sit on a side couch, your view doesn’t get blocked as much if a tall person sits in front of you as it does if you sit on the center couches. It’s something about the way the viewing angles line up.

Anyway, this was by far my favorite visit to The Clock. Every time of day has a different feel, and there’s something about The Clock at night that is just cooler than during the day. There were scenes of people at restaurants, at bars, seeing shows. People at parties. A few people lonely at home watching TV or movies, which was kind of meta. Many creepy nighttime mansions. And many, many bedside clocks: people getting into bed, then, later at night, people getting awoken by portentous phone calls.

As 10:00 p.m. approached, I knew the Back to the Future scene was coming up. At 10:04, lightning struck and Marty McFly traveled through time. The clip was about 20 seconds long, but among the vastness of The Clock it just came and went, and then we were onto the next movie. Kind of anticlimactic.

Then eventually it was 11:00. You could feel people begin to pay more attention as the witching hour grew closer and closer. At 11:30, the minute hand began its final upward sweep. Then it was 11:40, then 11:45, then 11:50, as the angle between the minute and hour hands began diminishing toward nothing. The tension and excitement in the room grew enormously.

11:59. “Get me the governor!” Then: the final seconds before midnight. Each. Punctuated. By. A throbbing. Beat.

And then midnight.

Big Ben exploded in a glorious flash. Clock after clock struck and chimed 12, one after the other, second by second. Orson Welles got stabbed on a clock tower. Mayhem on screen.

During the next few minutes, lots of people left, having gotten what they came for, and other people replaced them. I stayed a while longer. Just after 12:15 there was a long stretch of quiet scenes with no dialogue. A slow panning shot of people asleep on train station benches. A 1940s woman in a mansion welcoming her bleary-eyed husband through the front door. It began to feel late.

I simultaneously wanted to stay and leave. But at some point your brain starts to turn to mush and you just can’t take any more of it. It was time to go home and go to bed. So at 12:45, I left. And it was still full.

The weird thing about The Clock is that it’s playing when you arrive and it’s playing when you leave, and there are people already watching when you arrive and people watching when you leave. You always arrive after the beginning and leave before the end. There’s no other way.

So I have now seen noon and midnight. Noon was really cool, midnight was even better.

This morning I asked Matt if he could help me make a chart of my visits. He created the chart at the top of this page, with my input.

I’ve barely seen the morning hours. I hear the middle of the night has lots of dream sequences and creepy happenings. I’d love to see that, but I don’t see how I’d be able to stay up that late.

Marclay insists that The Clock be shown only in real time. I hope at some point he decides to livestream it online. I don’t know how it work for different time zones, but maybe he could figure that out.

At any rate, the film is at MoMA through January 21, including two more 24-hour weekends. I may have to go back and catch more of the morning hours. I love this film.

Post-Holiday Blues

I’m dealing with some post-holiday blues today.

I’m sure I’m not the only one. But I am feeling a little bit sad, and I’m missing the good times I had over the last week and a half.

A year ago, in 2011, I had a pretty bad holiday week. I was just depressed and bored and frustrated. I don’t think I felt that way the whole time; there were some nice moments. But overall, the week felt depressing. It resulted in me bailing on my old psychotherapist after 11 years and finding a new one, who I’ve now been seeing for a year.

I don’t know if it’s because of my new therapist, or because I learned from the previous year’s holidays, but this past week and a half went a lot better than in 2011. I decided not to try so hard to have a good time, and instead I just did things I wanted to do. There were also some nice moments that just sort of happened.

Highlights, which I wish I could freeze and go back to forever:

Christmas Eve — Matt and I went out to New Jersey to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant with my family. There were twelve of us sitting around a big table with a lazy susan in the middle. My sister-in-law’s father wound up ordering an enormous amount of food. There was something really lovely and warm and cozy about being in a boisterous Chinese restaurant with family; usually on Christmas Eve, Matt and I go out for Chinese in our neighborhood, and it’s quiet and sort of desolate. This was so much better. It was wonderful to be with a group of people.

When we walked out of the restaurant, it was snowing. Matt and I spent the night at my parents’ house; we sat on the couch watching TV while my parents’ dog snuggled up against me. The town was quiet and snowy, and “It’s A Wonderful Life” was on TV. I know that Jews aren’t supposed to care about Christmas Eve, but I do love it sometimes.

The next morning, we lingered over breakfast at my parents’ house for a couple of hours, which was also really nice.

Another highlight: Matt and I had dinner on my birthday. Instead of trying to find someplace new, we decided to go to a place we’d been to before – Glass House Tavern – and had a terrific meal. Afterwards, our friend Mike met us at the downstairs bar for birthday drinks.

Another highlight: dinner with Matt and my parents a few nights later for a belated birthday celebration at Joe Allen. It was lively and fun and Mercedes Ruehl was at the next table.

Another highlight: New Year’s Eve. That was actually the one time I started to get antsy, because New Year’s Eve never lives up to what everyone says it should be. Matt and I went to our favorite local restaurant, which we’ve done for the last few years. Then we went home and watched the ball drop on TV while drinking some champagne. It was low-key, but that’s OK.

I also went to the movies, sometimes with Matt and sometimes by myself. Matt and I also watched some movies at home. I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art twice, once by myself — it’s one of my favorite places in the city. I saw The Clock at MOMA. I went clothes shopping.

And now it’s a new year, and it’s back to work, and time marches on.

I tend to wallow in nostalgia and feel apprehensive about the future. It’s just something I do. So I want to hold on to the nice memories. The thing is, there are always future good memories waiting to be made. You need to have stuff to look forward to in life.

Happy 2013. Hope there’s more good stuff along the way.

Books Read in 2012

Here is a list of books I read in 2012, in chronological order. As usual, lots of history. There were several books I stopped reading partway through. The only novel I completed this year was Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, a highly entertaining read for 1980s geeks. I started another novel but I gave up halfway through.

I always enjoy looking over my annual list of books read — it reminds me where my mind was at any particular time in the past year. In the spring, I looked forward to the newest installment of Robert Caro’s LBJ bio; in June, I got interested in the Beatles and read Jonathan Gould’s terrific history of them; in the fall, I read a book about Paris before we went to Paris. And so on.

Here’s the list:

  • A World on Fire: Britain’s Crucial Role in the American Civil War, Amanda Foreman
  • What It Takes: The Way to the White House, Richard Ben Cramer (first 1/3)
  • Eisenhower: The White House Years, Jim Newton
  • Eisenhower in War and Peace, Jean Edward Smith
  • Watergate: A Novel, Thomas Mallon
  • The Years of Lyndon Johnson: The Path to Power, Robert Caro
  • Ready Player One, Ernest Cline
  • The Years of Lyndon Johnson: The Passage of Power, Robert Caro
  • Can’t Buy Me Love: The Beatles, Britain, and America, Jonathan Gould
  • Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley, Peter Guralnick
  • How the Beatles Destroyed Rock n Roll: An Alternative History of American Popular Music, Elijah Wald (didn’t finish)
  • The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln, Stephen L. Carter (read first half)
  • Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story, Jim Holt
  • Rule and Ruin: The Downfall of Moderation and the Destruction of the Republican Party, From Eisenhower to the Tea Party, Geoffrey Kabaservice
  • The Arabs: A History, Eugene Rogan (half)
  • Seven Ages of Paris, Alistair Horne (most)
  • From the Closet to the Altar: Courts, Backlash, and the Struggle for Same-Sex Marriage, Michael J. Klarman (first few chapters)
  • The Day of Battle: The War in Sicily and Italy, 1943-1944, Rick Atkinson (first 200 pages)
  • Election Night: A Television History 1948-2012, Stephen Battaglio
  • The Oath: The Obama White House and the Supreme Court, Jeffrey Toobin
  • Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, Susan Jeffers (re-read)
  • Wired for Love: How Understanding Your Partner’s Brain and Attachment Style Can Help You Defuse Conflict and Build a Secure Relationship, Stan Tatkin (currently reading)
  • The Patriarch: The Remarkable Life and Turbulent Times of Joseph P. Kennedy, David Nasaw (currently reading)