REALITY AND THE REST

I was asked to construct a set representing a clockmaker’s workshop. It had to be designed, built and delivered, along with a few other things, in a week. They also had to cast an actor to play the clockmaker. I am sometimes baffled by these requests, and I have a theory that if we look to reality then we will achieve a much more economic and satisfying result.  It sometimes takes a little time to persuade others to my point of view, but if we ask for these things I’m sure we’ll find them. 

The artifice of building a set and casting an actor is very rarely convincing, usually due to a lack of resources but always because the eye of the audience recognises the nature of what we present. By suggesting to the client and director that we could well discover a place where a real person has lived and worked, and then by recruiting that person to the task create a true event, this presents a logic that is difficult to argue against. 

In this case, the solution had to be within a short distance of several other locations, so I began talking to clockmakers within the area, and because I’m lucky there were only three people who would talk to me. One was on holiday, the other had a large uninteresting workshop, and the third was perfect. 

From the outside of his home you would never have guessed what was hidden within. His wife and family had all moved on and left him in a house that was bare of almost every comfort. He obviously lived on whisky and sandwiches and had several refurbished vintage wristwatches on the dining table - I asked, but none were for sale. I explained why I was there and he was open to the suggestion that I might use his workshop as background for a TV commercial.

He invited me into his rear garden, which had a covered balcony and a swimming pool that needed maintenance. He pointed toward what appeared to be a small garden shed built on the fence line, beneath a couple of date palms that were overgrown with ivy. Inside were two small rooms, one with a low narrow door that opened to the west, where the sun was low in the sky.

No amount of time or money was going to create something as beautiful as the space he revealed. It was as it appears in these photographs - I didn’t touch a thing. Every inch was crammed with tools and timepieces, but it was perfectly ordered and clean. It was like stepping into another world, and after speaking at length with the clockmaker I realised it was a reflection of his subconscious. I thanked him for allowing me to enter, and he was happy for me to return and willing to take part, for a fee to be agreed upon.

We were logistically obliged to go with the large uninteresting room.