Yoko Ono’s White Chess Set
Author: Ege Edman
Yoko Ono’s white chessboard work, Play It By Trust, removes all the black pieces and black squares, leaving both players to play with only white pieces on an entirely white board. In doing so, the visual distinction between opposing sides is eliminated. Placing indistinguishable pieces on a uniform board disrupts the fundamental structure, rules, and objective of chess. There are no longer defined sides or competition. The concepts of “mine” versus “yours” dissolve. What remains is an ambiguous, open-ended game, one played not against each other, but together.
The alteration of a familiar object like the chessboard and its broken structure parallels the arguments, conflicts, and wars we encounter in life, which can be likened to the black and white sides of a chessboard. Just like disagreements are often framed in black-and-white terms, two opposing ideas clash: right versus wrong, good versus bad. Removing the contrasting colors emphasizes that these labels are not inherent truths. In reality, almost nothing is purely black or white; most things exist in shades of gray.
The absence of contrast in Ono’s white chessboard can be seen as a metaphor for approaching ideas as “gray.” Just as white light appears singular but contains all colors, the monochromatic board contains all possibilities and opposing sides while concealing them. From a gameplay perspective, it includes every possible move and strategy, yet renders them indistinguishable. A player can only perceive the opponent as “other” for a limited time. Eventually, memory fails, and the board becomes a unified white whole, as if both players are using the same pieces.
The human mind tends to divide everything into binary opposites because uncertainty is unsettling. To avoid it, we categorize and define things to function. But when these oppositions are treated as absolute truths, they can lead to fanatic conflicts. They limit perception and make us believe that our perspectives, shaped by experience, are the definite truths. However, nothing is truly black and white. For instance, the chessboard is black and white only because it makes the game easier to play. Ono’s work reveals that these distinctions are not absolute but imposed for functionality.
Although the white board, by containing both sides, forms a whole that sometimes produces ambiguity and even meaninglessness. In practice, players often forget which pieces belong to them, making “winning” nearly impossible to sustain. But if everything exists within this whole and winning or losing becomes impossible, does the outcome lose meaning? Then why do we continue to play? We play because we still influence what happens. Rather than competing, we begin to interact. We become curious about emerging patterns and are compelled to engage with the pieces before us. We learn from the game and shape it. Similarly, in life, we recognize that perspectives arise from different lived experiences and exist not as right or wrong but side by side.
In this way, Ono’s work shifts focus from competition to participation, movement, and presence. When boundaries and outcomes disappear, we are reminded that it is the act of playing itself that matters. We accept uncertainty, trust the other player, and take responsibility for every piece. The work transforms chess from a contest into a shared experience. It emphasizes that the goal is not to win, but to play. While structures guide us, they can also limit perception. We live from a singular perspective, yet are part of a larger whole, both reduced and holistic, chaotic and harmonious. We carry responsibility within that tension. Through the simple act of removing contrast, Ono reminds us: the goal is to live and fully engage with being in the game at all. You act, but you can never fully know. And that is life.