Pracejus, J W., Olsen, G.D., & O’Guinn, T.C. (2006). How Nothing Became Something: White Space, Rhetoric, History, and Meaning. Journal of Consumer Research, 33, 82-90.
White space refers to what seems to be blank space in an artifact. Pracejus, et al. recognize that we often see white space as nothing, but this area often conveys a sense of power, integrity, and many other attributes we traditionally deem positive. Of course, nothing simply is out of inherency. Rather, cultural immersion and socialization teach readers the language of advertising, and we agree on linguistic and rhetorical meanings when it comes to textual and visual artifacts. Pracejus, et al. claim that “white space as nothing” falls into the same category; they seek to find how such a construct came into the cultural conscience by looking at recent historical moments (and specific examples of such moments) in advertising that affected the entire industry, and by observing creative directors at advertising agencies and undergraduate students’ thoughts on white space.
Pracejus, et al. determine that we have come to see white space as “nothing” through three specific historical moments. The first was American design’s minimalist movement, which peaked in the mid-1960s. As its name suggests, minimalist reduced the composition of an artifact to what might be deemed the bare essentials, in reaction to (against) “deceptive” art. We can see such deceptive art in the “scientific” advertisements for products like Bufferin and Serta. We find the next historical moment in corporate art, which emerged in the late 1950s. Corporations were not content to allow their public image to be formed by the actual public; corporations decided to construct their own cultural images. World War II propaganda and post-Depression rhetoric greatly influenced this movement. Paul Rand created the minimalist logo for IBM – bold and strong. In an effort to appear transparent and credible, corporations follow suit and began to incorporate concepts of minimalism into their advertisements. We can see such rhetorical strategies at work in an ad for Peterson Interiors. This is the cultural moment that “not only changed the style of advertising but, more impor- tantly, understood advertising’s real force to be in its blending of social movements, fashion, and even cultural revolution with commercial motive” (85). The third historical moment involves minimalism’s social stratification and its connection to upscale living (assumed due to representations in popular culture).
Pracejus, et al. contacted creators of contemporary ads to ask about white space – its social history, how producers view it, possible meaning due to linguistic past, if people still attach the same rhetorical meaning to the term 40 years later. The American advertising directors surveyed considerably agreed on white space as signaling prestige, confidence, and stability. Then, Pracejus, et al. surveyed 179 undergraduate students; while they did not respond to the interaction between ad size and white space, white space did influence their perceptions of the advertised products. In conclusion, white space is not merely nothing; its use signifies that less is more.
As for my specific project, visual advertisements are the central focus, and this article focuses specifically on ads marketed to a Western audience – the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is based in the United States. While film distributors use FYC ads to market their Oscar contenders for awards and not direct profit, the desired results tend to pay off in the long run; also, listed accolades and quotes and even the artwork of the ads might inspire laypeople who see the FYC ads to purchase tickets. “Nothing” highlights that space in an artifact means something, even when we perceive such a space as empty. Such blank spaces appear in at least one FYC ad for each Academy Award nominee for Best Picture that I hope to examine.
(Also, just for fun – since this is about blank spaces, after all.)