Superposition was either the most sublime performance I’ve witnessed, or the most useless one. The gimmick of building up, of crescendoing and intensifying, cycling towards something…and then suddenly blacking out was used multiple times. It was, in my opinion, a cop-out, a way for the performance to change topics without going through the difficulty of forming a cohesive segue. In this sense, I felt the performance was lacking.

However, there were elements of Ikeda’s work which I found compelling. The performers’ use of telegraphs and morse code as musical instruments and rhythmic components, while unpleasant to the ear, was skillful and innovative. Additionally, the use of math and geometry and physics to create art was a unique approach – it made me appreciate the beauty and definability within our universe. I’m usually unaware of these things, so in that way, it was enlightening to visualize plotting points as a medium for creating art.

I feel that if Superposition had focused more on this beautiful aspect of physics and mathematics, it could have engaged the audience much better than the overpowering and sensory overloaded approach which it used.

Perhaps, though, this is the sublimity Ikeda was aiming for. Maybe he wanted to make the audience uncomfortable – uncomfortable with the reality of the universe, the expansiveness, the interconnected-ness, the way in which everything can be linked through math and doesn’t have to be unknown and wondered about. Maybe that’s why this piece is well-respected. But maybe it’s just the fact that Ikeda utilized unique methods to state his point, a point which, in itself, is realized by thousands of scientists every year.

Personally, this performance was not one that I enjoyed. However, I recognize that it has merit and was going towards an interesting concept.

Have you ever joined a couple of friends, who were mid-conversation, and had no idea what they were talking about? That sense of confusion is exactly what I felt during this performance. I was thrown into a conversation between Ikeda and his work, and I was left lost and frustrated.
At the beginning of the production, I promised myself that I would keep an open mind, but by the end, I was ready to hightail it out of there. Everything that occurred in the middle is a blur of light and sound, and I am still struggling to connect those senses into one, coherent picture. Inhuman sounds and blinding lights were constantly bombarding me. At times, I had to close my eyes and cover my ears in fear that my head would explode. I understand that this performance may not be the type where you leave with a clear mental representation of what just occurred, but I did not expect to leave with only a headache and a desire for peace and quiet.
This brings me to my question: is this performance something that can be appreciated by people who are not familiar with the mathematical aspect? Every graph, line, and number had a role to play in this production, but I was not able to decipher what any of those roles were. As much as I tried to understand the mathematic hodgepodge on stage, my attempts were fruitless, and I was left more confused than ever. Perhaps my biggest downfall was my need to make sense of this production. Maybe if I had just watched and listened without trying to connect it to a bigger theme, then I would have found more clarity in this piece. Then again, it is impossible for me to sit and passively watch something without trying to find some meaning in it.