2009-continuing
I collect old wind-up alarm clocks. Occasionally I come
across a clock that is perfectly good, but was over-wound by
the owner and then set aside. Years
later I discover the clock at an antique store still in good condition and
still over-wound.
What I find compelling is that the energy stored in the spring of the clock is
the direct physical energy of someone who,
likely, passed away a long time ago.
What I have done is to channel some of this found energy
into a drawing. For the first drawing I
used a 1934 Westclox
Big Ben Chime Alarm, which I purchased at a yard sale at an old farmhouse west
of Kingston, Ontario. As it was a
women’s style clock and in almost new condition, I will conjecture that it was
the wife of a farmer who posited that energy
in the spring of the clock sometime in the 1930s.
To facilitate the drawing, I partially disassembled the
clock and prepared a piece of paper to fit over the face. I then rocked
the movement until it began to tick, fitted the piece of paper and replaced the
hands of the clock. Glued to the minute hand
was a small pencil lead. Powered by the winding motion of a woman’s hand some
seventy years ago, the lead was dragged
across the surface of the paper for a period of 23.3 hours. The result is a record of that energy as it
slowly dissipated.
An accompanying text panel is created for each piece.

A recent 23.3 hour drawing by someone who likely died a long
time ago, 2009
graphite on paper
13x13”

Possible the last of Bill Tets, clock repairman, 2009
carbon paper drawing
10x13”
I have an old, copper alarm clock
made by Veglia in Italy. While I do not know who owned the clock, I do know
who last serviced it. Written on the
inside is “Bill Tets, February 15, 1939.” Typically, a clock repairman will
scratch a service date on the
outside/rear of the clock, but not wanting to mar the surface of this charming
old
clock, he wrote in pencil on the
inside. Although clean and in otherwise good condition, the clock does not
run, so, despite Mr. Tet’s best
efforts, it is probable that the clock functioned for only a short period after
he
serviced it. And since a good clock
repairman winds the clock before returning it to the customer, there is a
good chance that the energy stored
in the alarm spring is that of Bill Tets.
I removed the clock’s movement and
placed it on a piece of carbon paper. I then released the spring of the
alarm causing the hammer to rapidly
hit the carbon paper. So vigorous was the hammering that the movement
dragged itself across the paper for
a short distance. That energy was possibly the last of Bill Tets, clock
repairman.