Entering The Clock at LACMA

I spent 13 hours of my life last week with The Clock, an absolutely monumental piece of video art that caught me completely off guard by, after watching 20 seconds, had me fully committed to watching as much of the 24-hour runtime as possible.

The premise of the work is fairly straightforward: it’s a 24-hour piece that takes place in real time. It splices together scenes from the entire history of media—mostly American but there’s occasional Asian and European content as well—that display or discuss the time and puts them on screen at that time. So, if you check your watch at 7:24 PM, on-screen there will be a scene from a television show or movie where a clock displays the time 7:24 or a character asks what time it is and someone replies, “It’s 7:24.” The splices are quick, so every minute on screen might get five or ten references (popular times in entertainment, such as the stroke of midnight, can get upwards of 20).

On top of simply displaying the time, though, the film is edited with underlying themes and semi-narratives. Doors and telephones play a dominant role in the imagery used. Characters eat during meal hours, go to work in the morning, make themselves a drink around five, go on dates at night. The generic standard for ‘a day in the life’ of a contemporary person is illustrated throughout the entire work.

It’s fascinating and immersive and, above all, left me in a constant state of wonder. How the hell did Marclay pull this off?

The Power of the Process

This isn’t the first time this year I’ve been left in wonder of the process of a film. One of my favorite releases of 2026 has been Nirvana The Band The Show The Movie, which, on top of being laugh-out-loud hilarious, had me constantly asking myself the same question: How did they make this movie?

Though these examples happen to both be films, works like The Clock are great pieces of evidence as to why art made by humans is important and can never be replaced by AI. Replicated, possibly, but never replaced. I am sure that, if not now, then in the near future, someone could prompt a computer to look through the history of media and select scenes that display the time and assemble a film from it. Watching that would end up being such a different experience, because there’s no quality of passion to it. Nobody sat through hours of footage and carefully assembled mini-stories that conveyed human emotion. It would not be a spectacle of achievement that would make you proud to be human. Prompting a computer to do your work for you is not, and never will be, art.

Yesterday I went to a 24-hour screening of The Clock and left at 12:15 AM, after watching six hours of the film. I was spent. I left a completely packed theater to see a line outside of over 100 waiting to get in still. That’s the power of art when someone pours themselves into a process of creation. No computer generated prompt is going to get this kind of response because nobody with a soul will be able to relate to it. There will never be a reason to care about what AI can ‘make.’

Seeing this piece left me with so many thoughts and feelings, but one that left a large impression was understanding that the AI companies and people behind them can steal all they want from the history of art, but not a single thing any of them ever make or do with it will hold a candle to an original drawing made by a pencil and a piece of paper, much less a massive accomplishment like this.

I’ve been to a few art openings recently and I’ve noticed this trend of oversized, low-resolution digital works that were basically just slapped together in Photoshop, printed and hung on name-brand gallery walls. They were aesthetically awful, but came with a multi-page artist statement full of buzz words.

There’s a problem in contemporary art where artist statements become the main focus of a work. Intention and the ability to communicate in a language style that represents intellectualized considerations seems to matter more than how a work actually looks. I’m not trying to advocate for style over substance, but this growing pattern where what someone writes about art against what they actually produce feels like it’s buying in to the capitalist ideology of a class-based society.

I was at a group show last week that was selling the booklet of artist statements for $15, which I thought was crazy. I like conceptual art and there’s certainly plenty of great work in the world produced from it, but I also think that using the concept as a basis for actually showing work is prioritizing the wrong side of the coin.

Yes, everyone has different tastes and there should be an opportunity for every idea to be on display, but it feels increasingly like there’s this undercurrent of MFA-types who are getting away with spending more time indulging in navel gazing than working through the trials of process that end up producing aesthetically pleasing work. (If something being aesthetically repulsive is part of the concept, then that’s fine, but if you simply won’t spend the time to try and make something and just paste bullshit together, that seems cheap.)

It just feels like some artists try to convey they went to an MFA program through how they talk about their work, which buys into the idea you need to go through the institution of higher education to become a gallery artist. It’s very reflective of how a caste system works and I think that should have nothing to do with art. Writing about a piece of art is a fine addendum, but the work should be able to speak for itself.

What living in LA is actually like most of the time

Today at LACMA I stood next to Jeff Goldblum in front of a giant Matisse for a few minutes. I didn’t want to bother him (plus he had a couple people with him that looked like they were there to protect him from public nuisance), but it is sort of just a thing that happens here and is always funny when it does.

Of all the creative professions, acting is the one I have the hardest time reconciling an appreciation for. It’s not directly the fault of actors, but the culture of celebrity that has grown out of Hollywood and infected so much of how the United States operates—I mean, so much in this country is factored around fame and notoriety. While it’s not the fault of any one actor, the entire cultural phenomenon of the ‘movie star’ and its impact on the rest of us is grotesque and makes me feel the people who actually vie for that title are akin to those running for Prom King and Queen of the arts.

That being said, every now and then an actor comes along who is just so good that any fame they pick up along the way only seems fitting. Actors like Phillip Seymour Hoffman (RIP), Meryl Streep, and Daniel Day-Lewis are among names where it’s like, sure, they’re famous, but their fame is a byproduct of their talent. With the new trailer for Primetime coming out today, it’s pretty obvious that now Robert Pattinson is coming up to place his name among that list.

The irony being, of course, that this guy got his start as part of a giant teenybopper IP vampire franchise—but has since done outstanding character studies across a slate of independent stalwarts (a doomed brother in Good Time, a philosophical capitalist in Cosmopolis, an insane drunk in The Lighthouse, a dreamer in Maps To The Stars, a lost husband in Die My Love) as well as taking on giant blockbusters in ways that aren’t necessarily straightforward leading-man approaches (a reserved Bruce Wayne in The Batman, a fine-with-playing-second-fiddle operative in Tenet, the weird cloned double-lead of Mickey 17).

Then you have the four films he’s doing this year—leading roles in Primetime and The Drama and supporting roles in The Odyssey and Dune Part Three. Four wildly different roles in four films that are all going to make one year-end of list or another.

To me, there’s the impressive talent for sure, but another thing to look at is how an artist chooses their path. A guy that looks the way Pattinson does could have taken the Ryan Reynolds route and starred in the same generic romantic comedy year after year, stacking up paychecks and interviews with Seventeen magazine. Instead, he opted for challenging and particular roles generally backed by interesting writing and good collaborators—all the tell-tale signs of what makes acting and working in film or theater fun to begin with.

In an age where too many big names are cashing in on multi-film Marvel contracts, it’s good to see movie stars exist for people who actually love the movies. It’s important to see artists who have achieved success continue to push themselves deeper into craft, and hopefully that will inspire the next generation to not just adopt the idea that IP or AI green-screen slop cash-outs are the best way forward.

There’s a pretty decent interview with Jordan Harper where he talks all things Los Angeles and he’s got some great one-liners (“This city is such a ball of contradictions—I love that we aren’t hidden from the violence of the world, but we also aren’t hidden from the beauty of it.”)

I think my favorite though comes toward the end when he’s asked about the nature of LA—

I just think that Los Angeles is the most American city. It is kind of the culmination of everything we think about ourselves and the truth about ourselves … New York, that’s a European city, they just happened to land here. People in the Midwest want to think that they’re different than us, but they’re captured by the same things: it’s real estate and money and guns and cops and sex and violence and dreams. This is the place where American dreams come from. Nobody talks about the American Real, they talk about the American Dream … This is America dreaming itself, right?

I wholeheartedly agree and I think that’s why I’ve always gravitated towards LA—even before I moved here I’d visit often and enjoy every moment. Even though most of my personal views are antithetical to much of what the city represents, underneath the Hollywood sheen does lie the foundations of what the United States is, for better and worse, and that’s a fascinating thing to observe while the empire is in a rapid state of decay.

If nothing else, Los Angeles is the cultural hub of America. While New York might represent the ‘Art World’ more, artists in LA have always had to clash and compromise with the world of entertainment—which is just art with its neck under the boot of capitalism. So much of culture in LA is representative of the class war being experienced nationwide—corporate movie chains struggling while independent theaters flourish, taco trucks having lines as long as fine dining wait-lists, the homeless encampments underneath apartment complexes where a one-bedroom is $3800 a month, Oscar winners grabbing In-N-Out. The contrasts are on full display, everywhere, all of the time—here, you can’t ignore what America truly is, how the push and pull between the everyday people and the ones in control ebb and flow, the way you can in a suburb where the center of town consists of an Outback steakhouse and a Whole Foods.

That, and the weather is perfect like seven months out of the year.