I quickly glance at the time on my phone and then up at the screen, finding that the time is perfectly synced with the large clock that has just appeared. After checking again once or twice more a few minutes later, I finally pick up that there is no need; The Clock is not only a work of art, but quite literally a clock.  

The time matches up by the minute and the audience experiences time through the lens of a film camera, witnessing the progression of an hour and the passing of a day through the fragmented scenes of thousands of films. 

The Clock (2010) by artist Christian Marclay is currently on view at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York City, on Fifty-Third Street and right between Fifth and Sixth Avenue in Manhattan. It is a twenty-four hour looped video featuring time, making it the longest video artwork ever created. As it is a work of art, it cannot be viewed as a standard movie and, rather, must only be displayed at a museum exhibition or other fine art venue. The last time that the piece was on view in New York City was over a decade ago at the MoMA in 2012. 

The most important thing to note about The Clock is that it is a compilation, a montage, of thousands of clips from hundreds of movies put together. It traces the lives of a variety of people from the past century throughout the day, from businessmen to assassins and from socialites to high schoolers. 

[11:38 a.m.] 

The audience stares as a group of people on screen look at a clock and yell, “It’s the sound of time approaching!” 

Regardless of the scene, whether the character on screen is looking down at their watch or plotting to time travel, there is always some reference to time. Marclay focuses on the persistence of time and its uncontrollable nature. He makes it clear that in any year, even decades apart, people are still trying to get a hold of time. 

We simultaneously want to speed it up and slow it down; it seems that no matter what there is never enough time. 

 The Clock is evidence that the relentless pursuit of a person for more time goes to waste when they only chase and do not experience. 

Throughout the film, Marclay goes back and forth between calm and agitating scenes. With faster paced scenes, he leans into the anxiety of the characters and ensures that both the audience and the characters are very frequently aware of the time. I found that an increased rate of clocks on screen within a short period of time, the more stress-provoking the scene is. Here, he emulates the paranoia of looking back at your watch every few seconds and the anticipation of waiting for something you know is going to happen. 

[11:49 a.m.]

After waiting around twenty minutes, my parents and I were able to snag some seats — it really is kind of a race. People from all corners of the room will abruptly speed walk in one direction, with their eyes on the prize.  Included as per Christian Marclay’s request and as part of the viewing experience itself, the couches add to the cinematic aspect of the exhibit. 

The moment that I sat down, I completely sank into the seat. Despite being next to two strangers, I wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. Part of my watching experience came with the reactions and movements of the people around me. As the hours pass by, people shuffle in, attempting to make their way around the room without causing disruption. They shuffle out in the same way people tend to bend down when they see you taking a photo they accidentally cut into. This mutual respect did not exclude waves of laughter or shock every now and then. 

I found out later how difficult it was to get myself to stand up and start walking. My legs were so tired and weak after being comfortable for the past hour and a half. Around the entire room are eighteen white couches, fitting three people comfortably on each — you could probably make room for one more if you’re in a group of four, however. On the three other walls of the room that is not covered in a giant screen, there is space for roughly twenty people on either side. 

With an artwork like The Clock, it is not only about what the audience sees. The experience itself is just as important; it is clear that a twenty-four hour video is not an easy watch.  Had I not gotten seats so soon after my arrival, I probably would not have stayed more than two hours on my first visit. I usually have very low stamina when it comes to watching movies, so I’d say this is pretty good. During my next visit, I sat watching for a personal record of three hours! 

With very few exceptions, the MoMA does not show all twenty-four hours of The Clock. Although the video continues to run through the night after the museum closes, the exhibition’s opening and closing times are according to the opening and closing times of the MoMA. This means that the public can only view The Clock between 10:30 a.m and 5:30 p.m. for the most part, and until 8:30 p.m. latest on Fridays. 

[11:54:19 a.m.] 

Angelina Jolie, portraying Jane Smith in Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005), checks her watch at 11:54 a.m., seconds before finding out her life is on the line and seconds before she prepares to eliminate the threat. 

Brad Pitt appears onto the screen soon after as John Smith, Jane’s husband and the threat in this scene. He drives recklessly towards her and checks his own watch as he, too, prepares his weapon to fire at Jane’s location.  

After several minutes since I had last seen a clip of a movie that I recognized, I let out a breath of relief once Jolie popped onto the screen. Scribbled notes such as, “movie with train and that one guy from Mamma Mia” ceased for now, and I jotted down the movie title with as much confidence as I could have in the dark room. The same, however, could not be said for every other person in the exhibit. Unless someone is an expert on both early and more recent films, it is unlikely that they would know each film clip used in The Clock. In a post-viewing note comparison with my parents, I found that they had dozens of actors and film titles that I had never even heard of before, and that I had a few that they also were not familiar with. 

The Clock clarifies the gap between generations among individuals and styles of film by placing clips so similar yet so different right by each other. In just a few seconds, the screen goes from black and white to color and then back to black and white. All of a sudden, the grain of a 1950s movie disappears and a movie from the early 2000s will come to replace it, the audio and image quality immediately improving along with it. 

[12:00 p.m.] 

It turns from morning to noon and we all watch as the minute hand slowly shifts clockwise. This time, though, it is different. There is a weight to the time 12 p.m. that is not emulated in many other times of the day. For many, it is the time they start eating lunch. For others, it is when they wake up; around this time, it becomes blurry as to what meal the scenes choose to depict.  

In a handful of cases, however, it is the time where people have places to be. A popular meet-up time — it is more common to say “Let’s meet at noon!” than it is to say, “Let’s meet at 11:34 a.m.,” for example — the minutes leading up to 12 p.m. indicate a sense of rush and anticipation. At around 11:55 a.m., five minutes before noon, couple Jane and John Smith unknowingly go head-to-head and try to kill each other for their concealed professions. 

[12:25 p.m.]

At 12:25 p.m. a man, Nicholas Cage, and a child try to resist eating raw steak. Peering over them both is another person telling them to eat up as well as a piece of steak in front of them. Surprisingly, the only difference here is the film the scene comes from. 

Whether it is a coincidence or not, this scenario is mirrored across two different films at the same time. Patterns and sequences are woven into the hours of The Clock from hundreds of movies. Consider the following examples. 

People wait for their train impatiently: they all have places to be at any time of the day. 

Between 12 and 1 p.m. a couple of people go off to their lunch appointments. 

White men in suits pop onto the screen every few minutes, or seconds. 

At least twenty minutes before the start of the next hour, characters typically start to think about what they have to do on the hour; they start to rush again and make their way. 

Hundreds of characters look down to their watch or up at a clock; these clips linger for at least half a second, mostly, and serve as a reminder for the audience. We are constantly reminded of what time it is and how long we have already spent there, watching how other people have spent their time. In the time we have been sitting, we witness how others have spent their own time as it passes by. In this way, it calls us to pay attention to how we choose to spend our time. 

The Clock has frequently been described as a memento mori, a reminder that you will die. The constant reference to time urges the audience to consider their own usage of time and warns against its misuse. 

I do not think that watching The Clock is a waste of time. Once you sit down to watch it, it puts you in a trance. There is a consistent balance between tension and ease that entertains its audience and keeps us in anticipation for the next few seconds. For many, including myself, curiosity begs us to stay and we wonder what films and perspectives will fill up the hours to come. 

[A Little Past 6 p.m.]

Meryl Streep pops up on the screen for the fourth time during the total six and a half hours that I spent viewing the exhibition and for the second time that night. The Clock manages to trace the careers of a select group of actors. We first see her around early noon serving breakfast (or lunch?) to two children. One of them puts on the music of the era, and Streep is in the earlier half of her career. Her last appearance of the day comes in at around 7:40 p.m. as she searches for a friend on a train platform and more easily identifiable since her first appearance. As we see her age and grow into the actress she has become, we also see a difference in the quality of film and advancements that have risen since an earlier time.

On multiple accounts, films in the one hundred years before 2010 were not as diverse as films in the 100 years before 2025 are, and if Marclay were to create a similar piece now, it would likely feature a completely different set of films and hundreds of clips from more contemporary classics. 

Watching a film nearly fifteen years later is an entirely different experience from watching it upon its release. The perspective in 2025, as we have eased our way into more diverse films over the past couple decades, is one that is not entirely reflected in an artwork like The Clock. This is not wholly at the fault of the artist. Only in recent years have filmmakers made more of an effort to highlight a larger variety of human experiences. More races, ethnicities, cultures, and sexual orientations, for instance, have been increasingly represented as of late — especially because of their absence or shortage in early cinema. 

It has been argued that there was room for more representation, however, given the reappearances of multiple actors throughout the piece. What it comes down to is Marclay’s artistic decisions and the resources at hand. Marclay chose to show the impact of an actor throughout their careers and throughout the development of cinema, in order to build upon the theme of time and the inevitability of change. 

Nevertheless, the artwork is a testament to the history of the recorded 100 years, especially in its current state as more and more people visit over the years and can interpret it differently than they might have before. The comparisons and differences we observe all play a role in how each individual views the artwork and what they take from it. 

[7:30 p.m.] 

The frenzy of the night has not settled in yet. The people on screen are getting ready for their dinners, tying their ties to go out and preparing their food at home to stay in. The sound follows and the dialogue is cut short, occasional conversations replacing the music and commotion from just an hour before. The intentionality of this choice is made clear from Marclay’s experimentation with sound early in his career. 

Marclay’s works are largely a combination of multiple art pieces, regardless of the medium. His more recent piece Fire (2020), for instance, uses pieces cut from comic books in order to create the fiery image. Even his animations are not one continuous video; instead, he uses photos or small clips to create them, much as stop-motion animators do but without demonstrating a sequence of events. This technique can be seen in Chewing Gum (2016) and is mirrored in his masterpiece The Clock (2010).  

This technique, also referred to as the ‘sampling aesthetic,’ originated in music in the late 1970s and early 1980s. To no surprise, this is where Marclay got his start. As a student at the Massachusetts College of Art after completing his studies at the Geneva University of Art and Design, he experimented with performance art and punk rock, starting off with turntables and vinyls. 

Marclay’s deconstruction and reassembly of preexisting pieces first came to fruition at this point, He would cut up the vinyls and put them back together in a different fashion to create ‘mutant’ pieces and new sound in his Recycled Records (1980-86) series. Soon enough, he became more well known in the New York City scene, performing with other experimental artists such as John Zorn and alternative rock artists such as the band Sonic Youth. 

Combining thousands of films for The Clock, even with his own team, took Marclay a total of three years to complete. Given this feat, it is undeniable that everything shown is intentional.

Throughout the video, music starting in one clip often tends to linger until the next, and it becomes difficult to determine when one clip ends and another begins. In doing so, Marclay builds onto the narrative that he creates as he splices movies together. They are glued almost seamlessly through his careful use of patterns and sound. By using the preexisting sounds of a clip and his own transitions and music, he creates a film score that fits into the context of all of the events throughout the video. 

In times of agitation and anxiety, Marclay will often use the same quickly-paced music, even as the movies change from one to the next. This way, he bonds them together and emphasizes the common denominator between them. 

[7:55 p.m]

Small fires and big fires come in around this time, and I’m not sure why. Smoke-filled rooms, lighters, candles, and flames come into the screen. A few minutes later, everything bursts into flames in one scene. 

Marclay’s works come from a place of observation. It comes from acknowledging the patterns that we unknowingly pass through. He then puts at the forefront of his work. In The Clock, Marclay recognizes shared details in both older and more recent films. On multiple occasions, for example, a man hangs from a large clock with his legs flailing around, paired with the concern of side characters within the scene. 

Scattered across the twenty-four hours are similar scenes shown back-to-back, highlighting the fact that not everything changes over time. The Clock has been described as a video that traces the workday. Indeed, there are an endless amount of people wearing suits. The patterns in workwear have not dissolved into nothing over just the past decade, and we can still note distinct similarities that arise throughout the day. Marclay shows people clocking into work, clocking out of work, running late, coming early, checking the time until they leave, losing track of time and staying too long. It is very likely that you will see your habits, at the very least, shown within the hours you may visit. 

[8:15 p.m.]

At 8:15 pm, we were all kicked out of the exhibit, and I observed the people that came out from the room with me. There was a group of college students, artsy and energetic. Smaller groups of elderly people recounted parts of what they just watched. Couples hold hands as they walk down the stairs to the lobby. And then there was me, a high school senior who came after their school club that Friday.

It was interesting to see the differences among us and imagine where the others came from before that day. I imagined scenes from The Clock and wondered if any of the people whom I had seen could relate. Did their lives also change around 11:56 a.m. just as Jack’s (portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio) had in the Titanic? Did they attend a party at 6:45 p.m. like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s? 

Regardless of what they did before arriving, we all ended up watching The Clock until late on a Friday night for hours — take this as a recommendation and consider visiting on your own time. 

Christian Marclay’s The Clock closes on Sunday, May 11th, 2025. You can get your tickets to the MoMA here.

The most important thing to note about The Clock is that it is a compilation, a montage, of thousands of clips from hundreds of movies put together. It traces the lives of a variety of people from the past century throughout the day, from businessmen to assassins and from socialites to high schoolers.