He seems to have divided unity, and from that moment on the countdown began,
the eschatological time began, almost the time of death, bent time. The 20th century reinforced this image of death. However, a watch is practically the only mechanism that we wear on ourselves, very close to the skin; we can feel it by our skin. That is, this mechanism seems to be imbued with organicity: it is very individual, can stop, be late. That is, time takes on a personal dimension.
Looking at the clock-face we can time or fix the time only numerically at the moment of a glance, setting the hands' position as well as engraving the image of the time. On
the other hand, we are not able to catch the qualitative changes of the time, its flow. We can just turn it into a gesture, for instance, the gesture of the minute-hand; and then it's no more the image of the "now", but the image of the "no more now" or the "not yet now".
I've elaborated several syntactic formulas in «Chagall's Clock». One of them might be presented in two kinds of gestures – the two types of hands' movements: the very fast movement of the second hand which could be imitated with the air effect of bow movement and the slower movement of minute hand with its not so obvious changes. In the composition, these two gestures - "mechanicalness"/repetition and slow motion of the minute hand are combined, as if demonstrating two sides of the same process or showing a coin from both sides at the same time. It's like seeing two poles simultaneously.
The number of musicians in the piece corresponds with the numbers on the clock-face, with the point placed in the middle of the two sections Х and II and simultaneously equal to their total sum, i.e. to XII. The whole ensemble is a specific clock mechanism with invisible hands, which are moving in a circle or stopped with a glance of the observer from time to time.