100 Seconds to Midnight

October - December 17, 2021

100 Seconds to Midnight, Ray Appthorp

100 seconds to midnight

The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, known widely for its internationally recognized Doomsday
Clock, was created in 1945 following the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They
describe their mission succinctly as a publication that “equips the public, policymakers, and
scientists with the information needed to reduce man-made threats to our existence.” These
major threats include nuclear weapons, climate change, disruptive technologies, cyber warfare,
and a decrease of trust in institutions. Every January since 1947 the Bulletin announces how
many minutes we are from midnight, or less poetically put— the apocalypse.
The clock was 17 minutes to midnight when I was born in 1992 — the farthest from midnight it
has ever been since the start of doomsday timekeeping. In 2020 the clock was set for 100
seconds to midnight, where it has remained since. Midnight has never been closer.
In January of 2021, the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists released their annual Doomsday Clock
statement with this urgent warning: “The pandemic revealed just how unprepared and unwilling
countries and the international system are to handle global emergencies properly. In this time of
genuine crisis, governments too often abdicated responsibility, ignored scientific advice, did not
cooperate or communicate effectively, and consequently failed to protect the health and welfare
of their citizens.”

It is still 100 seconds to midnight.

With multiple disasters happening concurrently, including climate change and the pandemic, the
times we are collectively living through provide a fertile breeding ground for feelings of
hopelessness, ennui, and derealization. After a year of isolation time began to lose its rhythm.
Days blended into one soupy grey mess. Days spent waiting and wasting away. While the
doomsday clock is representative of our time left on the planet, the clocks in the installation keep
track of nothing. The numbers are inaccurate, they add up to nothing resembling our standard
methods of timekeeping. These clocks do not represent time, but instead our emotional
connection to it, how long or short something feels.
The works created for this installation are mediations on time, negative unwanted feelings, death,
and disaster. Though physically lightweight, they are limp and flaccid, slumping with a tangible
heaviness that mirrors the exhaustion and hopelessness of a depressed body. The three figures act
out various stages of grief, anxiety, and depression; they know it’s 100 seconds to midnight, and
it appears they are incapable of handling that fact.

Bio

Rachel Apthorp is an interdisciplinary artist from the San Fernando Valley currently living and
working in Los Angeles, CA. She received a BA and MA in Studio Art with an emphasis in
Painting and Sculpture from California State University, Northridge. Her work has been
exhibited at Ochi Projects, The Brand Library Art Gallery, Monte Vista Projects, and more with
press features in The New Yorker, Hyperallergic, Artillery Magazine, and the LA Times
Datebook. Focusing on complex trauma, abusive power structures, and bodily dysfunction,
Apthorp’s work examines the collapse of both internal and external worlds. With a primary focus
on soft sculpture, her practice establishes a visual language for such ineffable ideas through a
variety of approaches to image and object making.