elena hariga

ON TIME – Elena Hariga / 2008
“The moment is worth ten thousand years,” says a Chinese Buddhist.
Nothing is more relative than Time, nothing is less real than Time and, on the other hand, more present in our life.
We are Time and, indulging ourselves in the illusion of mastering Time, -we divide it rigorously in increasing doses: moment, minute, hour, day, seasons, ages, centuries. To measure so precisely something that does not exist, to be restricted within the limit of a clock’s dial wherefrom to long for eternity…
Only the saints had succeeded to surpass the limit of clock’s dial and go out of Time in search for God. They had succeeded and left a red cross in the calendar.
Angels come from eternity, they link eternity to our world, a world observing the rhythm of clock’s ticking. But the clock turned dumb after this sonorous attribute was done away by technique, and Time has since passed into an anxious silence. Angels make us step over the dial of Time. When we become aware of angels presence, the moment is unique, it has nothing to do with Time.
I drew angels. Hung now and then to their hem, I tried to disturb the figures from the clocks dial, to change their place, to steal clock’s hands, to make them move other way round. Certainly, it was a feeble mutiny.
I cut up calendar pieces: a wall calendar seems to concentrate, in red and black, the fight between the profane Time and the sacred Time, each red cross scoring a sign of victory. A calendar missing the saints’ days put down in red is frightful; the same is a calendar filled up with the red crosses of saints’ days.
It is the moment when the angel from Revelation will say: “… there should be Time no longer.”
A calendar inspired the cycle On Time, the series of drawings I shall still work at for a certain period.

DESPRE TIMP – Elena Hariga  / 2008
„ Clipa face cat zece mil de ani”, spune un budist chinez.
Nimic nu este mai relativ decat Timpul, nimic nu este mai putin real decat Timpul si, totodata, mai prezent in existenta noastra.
Suntem Timp si, iluzionati ca il stapanim, il impartim riguros in doze crescatoare: clipa, minut, ora, zi, anotimpuri, varste, veacuri. Sa masori atat de precis ceva care nu exista, sa fii izolat in limita unui cadran de ceas, de unde sa tanjesti la veșnicie…
Doar sfintii au reusit sa depaseasca limita cadranului de ceas, iesind din Timp in cautarea lui Dumnezeu. Au reusit si au lasat in calendar o cruce rosie.
Ingerii vin din vesnicie si fac legatura cu lumea noastra, ritmata dupa tic-tacul ceasului. Azi ceasul a amutit, tehnica eliminand acest atribut sonor, iar Timpul se scurge intr-o nelinistitoare liniste. Cand ingerul isi face simtita prezenta, clipa devine unica, nu are de-a face cu Timpul.
Am desenat ingeri. Atarnata cand si cind de poala lor, am incercat sa ravasesc cifrele de pe cadranul ceasului, sa le mut din locul lor bine stabilit, sa fur limbile ceasului, sa le fac sa se roteasca in sens invers. O slaba razvratire, desigur.
Am decupat bucati din calendare, calendarul de perete parandu-mi a concentra, in rosu si negru, lupta dintre Timpul profan si Timpul sacru. Calendarul de perete este harta unei batalii impotriva Timpului, fiecare cruce rosie fiind un semn de victorie. Un calendar fara zilele in rosu ale sfmtilor ar fi inspaimantator. La fel, un calendar acoperit total de crucile rosii ale zilelor sfintilor.
Atunci ingerul Apocalipsei va spune in sfarsit ca ,,Timp nu va mai fi”.
Un calendar mi-a inspirat ciclul de desene Despre Timp, la care voi mai lucra, sper, o buna bucata de timp.