![]() The Clock.” He’d skipped the coffee.I wouldn't know what happens on a bad day. His to-do list for the day, which he’d written on a Post-it and stuck to his Mac, had read, “Breakfast. “If there’s any commonality, it’s self-awareness.” Another commonality, you’d think, would be an intolerance of long lines.Ī few places behind them, Kevin, a twenty-one-year-old student at Brown, was reading a library copy of “The Myth of Sisyphus.” It was his day off from an internship. He and his wife, Camille, who was also in line, had just finished a book, “The Art of Doing: How Superachievers Do What They Do and How They Do It So Well,” featuring interviews with Alec Baldwin, Yogi Berra, Philippe Petit, George Clinton, and others. Her brother estimated that he’d last no more than an hour. Still, she expected to watch “The Clock” for at least two hours. If not for my mother, I would have only intended to come here.” Her piece, featuring violins and jammed radio signals, is supposed to première next month, in Utrecht. (They’d arranged to have her wheelchaired in.) Annie, a composer, said, “I’m up against a deadline, and I’m having a breakthrough. The plan had been for her to arrive as they reached the front of the line. Their mother, en route from Philadelphia, was stuck in traffic on Tenth Avenue. Josh and Annie Gosfield, brother and sister, had been in line for fifteen minutes, and estimated that they faced another seventy-five. You’d have thought that the show was about me.” “They held the camera on my face for four or five seconds. When the Beatles made their first appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” in 1964, the first closeup of an audience member was of her. “Here’s the most interesting thing about me,” she went on. “I consider myself lucky to be able to waste my time waiting in line. class, who had fled troubled places like Burma and Ivory Coast, might react to “The Clock.” “My time does not have the seriousness of intent that theirs has,” she said. While waiting, she’d thought about how the students in her 4 P.M. How stupid is that?” She’d spent fifteen minutes making this calculation and had decided to bail. “If they’re accurate in their predictions-and I know they’re not, because they underestimated it the week before last and then they overestimated it last week-but, anyway, if they’re accurate, then I’d end up getting in at the same time I did last week, and so would see the same part of the piece again. ![]() “I’ve been waiting thirty minutes,” she said. This was her second visit to “The Clock.” The first time, she waited forty-five minutes, and watched for an hour and a half. The average viewing time was an hour, but, if you wanted to, you could sit in there all day, watching the time go by.Ī woman stepped out of the line. A sign near its tail estimated that the wait, from that point, would be an hour and a half, but you could never predict when space would open up inside. The line doubled back on itself, along Broadway, just north of Sixty-second Street. ![]() Last Wednesday, at 11:07 A.M., sixty-four people were waiting to get in to see it. Tick tock mother f movie#“The Clock” is a twenty-four-hour montage of movie scenes containing references to the time of day. The best honest line in town, these past few weeks, has been the one for gaining entry to “The Clock,” Christian Marclay’s video installation at Lincoln Center. ![]() Even some nice old-fashioned lines, such as the one for Shakespeare in the Park, have been corrupted by the practice of people paying other people to wait in their place. New York used to be a city of queues-movies, concert tickets, the Department of Motor Vehicles. ![]()
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