Images of “Nothing” ― what it means to you, and how to show it

[Heroique]

I did an image-sharing search for “nothing,” and nothing came up.

This leaves me very curious. When it’s your artistic aim, how does your photography communicate nothingness, emptiness, vacancy? Can you show examples?

What I mean, of course, is the physical, emotional, or spiritual sense of “nothingness.”

For a landscape photographer, this word might conjure up images of space or light, composed in a special manner. For a portraitist, the word might (also) bring to mind certain expressions by face, eyes, hands.

And in either case, related words like “loneliness,” “barrenness,” “isolation,” “alienation,” or “remoteness” might come to mind.

What does “nothing” (as an artistic aim) mean to you, how do you share it w/ your viewer? Is it possible? For example, is it something you can consciously compose – not just for yourself, but for others? Or, is it something over which you have little control, but that might appear in your work and be communicated on its own? Once you think you “have” it, what does it take for your viewer to “see” or “sense” it? Does your image need a caption? Or does sharing it w/ a viewer depend more on his or her emotions, lifetime personal experiences, or cultural background? How do you know whether you’ve been successful?

Lots of questions – so I’ll stop here, provide you w/ a scene of nothing, and hope to see nothing in your examples, too.

Tachi 4x5
Fuji A 240mm/9
Expired Fuji Pro 160s
Epson 4990/Epson Scan

[Vaughn]

Is nothing sacred?

[Eric James]

Nothing is sacred.

Your photo looks as if it was taken in the Chugach of Southcentral AK - some might see nothing, but to me that landscape is sacred.

[Heroique]

Nothing is sacred.

Your photo looks as if it was taken in the Chugach of Southcentral AK - some might see nothing, but to me that landscape is sacred.

A telling remark, Eric – I share your reaction, often identifying the two words.

If a landscape communicates “nothing,” reverence is not far behind.

However, I’m curious if you, as a viewer, brought “sacredness” to the scene, or if my describing the scene as “nothing” brought the feeling of sacredness to you. That is, if I had only said the scene was “autumn,” would your sense of sacredness still have asserted itself? Or if I say it’s in Yukon Territory, would the sacredness disappear?

Nothing is psychologically complex.

[Eric James]

I viewed your image before reading your question, so my reaction was evoked with only your thread title in mind. The photo reminded me specifically of "the ballpark" below O'Malley Peak, and then I thought it might be closer to Hatcher Pass - like the Reed Lakes area. The image evoked memories and anticipation as I look forward to returning to Southcentral AK this summer. Rather than nothing, it's closer to everything for me. Hiking with friends, dogs endlessly and fruitlessly chasing ground squirrels, crisp fresh air, photography, moose, bearanoia - nothingness did not come to mind.

I think you'll find it difficult to universally convey nothingness through an image. Emptiness, tranquility or solitude perhaps, but something will always come out of nothing.

Everything is psychologically complex.

[Heroique]

...something will always come out of nothing.

But is it possible (tweaking your phrase) that “nothing can come out of something” – something like a photograph?

That is, can a photographer arrange the concrete “something” of his materials to communicate the sense of nothingness we all acknowledge, to some degree, deep down – as sacred, or as frightening as that sense might be?

If not, then photography has reached a boundary – or perhaps the photographer is yet to come along who can communicate this through his craft and materials. If he or she reads too much theory-of-late, they might not even try (wink).

Your quote above naturally reminds one of King Lear’s most famous line, “Nothing will come of nothing,” which leads to some searing, photographic-like, landscape imagery (stormy heaths, windy cliffs, etc.) to illustrate his tragic point and suggest that literature might be able to do what photography can’t.

When it comes to nothingness, I wonder if the nature of photography means it can’t compete w/ literature (or other arts, like music). You might be right.

[Brian Vuillemenot]

Nothing is nothing- everything and anything are something

Death Valley

[Richard M. Coda]

I make lots of photographs of nothing. It is usually stuff that people walk right by or have left behind. I happen to find them beautiful, especially as photographs.


542 West Van Buren St., Phoenix, AZ 2008, 8x10 TMax 100


Tires, (Broadway and 7th Street) Phoenix, AZ 2009, 8x10 TMax 100

[Heroique]

Usually, I associate rhythm w/ life, but these monotonous rhythms – Brian’s desert cracks, Richard’s stacked tires – distill & concentrate nothingness out of their scenes.

Not the “sacred” kind, but “The Waste Land” variety. Like the “barrenness” mentioned earlier.

I was about to say they add nothing to this thread, but I’d run the risk of being misunderstood. ;^)

[Tony Evans]

The Chinese were the first to discover nothing. Later, the Arabs brought it to the West.