martin bonadeo | texts | delayed clock

"From the ambush his son reached him with the left hand, at the same time he took a monstrous hammer with his right hand, long and sharp teeth, and as quickly as possible he cut off his father´s genitals and threw them behind himself. They were swept away by the sea for a long time; white foam arose from the immortal virile member on both sides ….." Hesiod, Theogony

Through these windows you can see many people´s routine. Always the same, always different. And you are up here; the elevator has gone and you remain locked up like a princess in a tower. 5 levels high above the square and observing a reality which you might have experienced once. Inside here, below the clock´s pendent, one can listen better than in any other place to the pulse which they imposed on us to measure our lives. From time to time sweet melodies try to cheer up the moment in which they inform us that we lost another 15 minutes and they cannot be recovered.
The clock has become arrogant. It is not sufficient to be present on many wrists and to appear on all those electronic devices, but it needs to get enormous control so that everybody mixes it up with time. But it is only representation, as valid as many others, but with the advantage of being imposed universally.
You are in a 7-floor-high tower, exclusively built to sustain a clock which marks from this empty space an infernal rhythm. The majority of things that one can see outside do not stop, but from this place one can appreciate the things that are happening outside from a new coordinate.
I wanted to point out photographically some tiny things that called my attention in the months prior to this exhibition to contrast them with the present moment. They say that we are living in a condition of permanent change and I thought that the sum of these small evidences would do nothing more than demonstrate in a different way our advancing movement in this unique experience called life.

Buenos Aires, april 2002

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