The idea of empty space in any given design is, as simply as can be put, a matter of balance; control and self-temperance. In the end, it’s a matter of psychology. We humans are… well, lazy, put bluntly. Our eyes nitpick the most prominent messages and objects that stand out– and warn us to avoid overcrowded scenery. And perhaps, if the message is too small and alone in the void, it goes ignored. As it was mentioned in the chapter, a “great” and/or “elegant” design is defined as a piece that balances how full or empty it is– it has enough detail to get our attention and give its message, but not so much that we become spooked and avoid a word wall. Or even that it’s too flashy and self-indulgent, and doesn’t strike us with the point it’s trying to send to us.
Having watched Helvetica, I’ve gotten a little more refined idea of what blank and active space are defined as. It’s commonplace for modern-day advertisements to binge on active spaces; that being “empty space intentionally placed into the design”. This is done almost always to bring emphasis to the object, the message, being stressed. In an advertisement, companies don’t necessarily want our eyes to wander around. There’s most often a simple, clear-cut message they want to send, so they want our eyes to fix onto their pitch right away. They use this embedded space to… in essence, ward our eyes away from the blank void and towards the objects– the message– they’re sending. Simply put, it’s deliberately drawing our eyes away from emptiness towards where there are words, pictures, or other things to look at. However, active space sometimes isn’t mean to ward away our eyes at all. It can also incorporate a form of its own, and sometimes is a design within itself.
