Choreography for Blackboards Review

A few nights ago, I saw Choreography for Blackboards, a dance theater piece by Michael Klien as part of the PS122 COIL 2012 festival.

The concept for the piece is fascinating. In this (or frankly any) socio-political clime, it should be incessantly relevant and necessary. Six blackboards, which Klien describes as “monolithic” are situated around a large space. When I saw it, it was at the Invisible Dog Art Center, a gallery/performance space in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, but the piece has been performed in many different spaces worldwide. Klien with collaborator Steve Valk then gathers six disparate people to perform his choreography. They can be variously bankers, visual artists, poets, political activists. The idea is that these people, not necessarily performers, are together in a room making art, performing choreography. The choreography mostly consists of drawing and erasing the blackboards.

This seems rife with possibilities to me. Six people who would under normal circumstances never be in the same room together making art—that seems beautiful and monumental, and given the heated political and economic climate really timely. However, in its execution Choreography for Blackboards fails to deliver. It did not capitalize on the most novel thing about it—the diversity of participants.

Audience members are ushered in, encouraged to wander, sit, stand, and drink tea. It’s a gallery-like experience, fitting given where it is performed.

Each performer spent almost the entire performance drawing solo on their own blackboard, not interacting with the others. Occasionally they would glance at their peers’ work, and even more occasionally a theme from one’s blackboard would appear in another. (In particular, the night I was there a chromosome/cell splitting theme popped up on at least three blackboards, which was thrilling after an hour of isolation.) The choreography was very loose and unguided. There was never a point of focus or narrative to follow, which instead of being freeing felt overwhelming.

After the performance, there was a talkback, which had several participants and several outsiders speak as “oracles”—they were encouraged to say their piece and not particularly respond to the others’ comments. Eventually, to my relief, discussion was introduced as a means of communication. It was only then that things got really heated and truly interesting. Artists and Occupy Wall Street activists argued for lower ticket prices and financial support, whereas the board director present countered that higher ticket prices sold better. “But that’s a faulty capitalistic ideal!” an OWS advocate fairly exclaimed. This was the performance I wanted to happen all along, and just as it began the talkback ended.

Ultimately, I did have a good time at the show, but given its seemingly limitless potential, I wanted a more guided experience.