Clock c. 1935

Curator: Standing before us is a piece titled "Clock," a colored-pencil and watercolor drawing created around 1935 by Nicholas Gorid. What strikes you first about this rendering? Editor: It's funny, it makes me feel weirdly…grounded. Like all my deadlines are suddenly…reasonable. I'm not even joking, something about its vertical stability is settling my anxieties. Curator: That’s intriguing. Timepieces often play with our anxiety! Do you think it's a contrast to our tech-saturated reality? A tangible, material marker of time's passage. I can see the appeal. It hearkens back to a period of deliberate craftsmanship, where even measuring time was an art. Notice the intricate ornamentation at its crown. It almost hints at the transience of worldly accomplishments – Vanitas symbolism repackaged in an industrial age. Editor: Right? You nailed it. The craftsmanship IS stunning. I keep zeroing in on the eagle figure. But doesn't its classical design feel kinda stuffy for the 1930s? Curator: On one hand, yes, it looks back to Neoclassical grandeur – a deliberate act of artistic borrowing. Yet there’s also a powerful declaration of timelessness, isn’t there? Gorid captures not just an object, but a symbol—of heritage, permanence, of cycles, really. The clock’s circular face mirrors nature’s seasons, even the concept of eternal return. Editor: Whoa, heavy. I was thinking about its function in some Victorian parlor, keeping everyone punctual for tea! It just hits a nerve for me because in my day to day life my anxieties never let up on a concept as abstract as time. The idea that time doesn't just pass, but builds character. That it can be "captured" by design seems sort of... quaint. Curator: I find myself reflecting on how our experience of time shifts based on how it's framed, literally or symbolically. In this colored-pencil work, the clock isn't merely a recorder but a monument, a steadfast guardian through changing eras. It almost gives permission to stop rushing. Editor: Alright, Alright, you've swayed me to a more contemplative stance. Time to stop running from that ever elusive clock. Maybe Nicholas Gorid was on to something, it takes some time, but that's okay.