We are standing on a viewing platform next to the Perrine Bridge, one of the ten highest bridges in the United States. It soars nearly 500 feet over the Snake River Canyon, just outside of Twin Falls, Idaho. I wanted to make an image with maximum tension. Using my long 250mm telepoto lens lens, I spotted a distant boat closing fast. I caught it just as it swept below me, sliding easily between the opposite shores of the river at its narrowest point. I loved the pattern created in its wake -- the river looked as if a filleted fish has been imprinted upon it. The most critical portion of this image, however, is the distance between the boat itself and the edges of land. This space is called Negative Space. The shorter the spacing between the boat itself and the sides of the river, the greater the tension becomes. Tension is the sense of being stretched almost to the breaking point, and while there seems to be plenty of clearance for this boat, the illusion of "threading the needle" is still present, an illusion which draws the eye and holds it.

This image is all about hands, arms, and space. The woman waiting for her tram creates a square with her arms, as if subconsciously defending her space. She leans on a wall as she waits, while a man leans on a post adjacent to that wall. I cropped him out of my frame, leaving only his arm and hand to press against that post. The woman ignores his presence, yet we can feel the tension generated by the intrusion of the man’s hand into the frame. The battered post adds context – it is a well-worn barrier, separating two strangers in space.

Look carefully at the body language in this image. Two monks approach the main gate of Cambodia’s Royal Palace. A policeman appears to have stopped them for a moment. Or has he? Perhaps he is just greeting the monks as they pass by. I sense the energy of companionship flowing between the monks, and strengthened it by waiting until they came as closely together as possible. The sliver of negative space between them creates a tension that unifies, rather than divides. There is more negative space between the monks and the policeman, symbolizing the gulf that exists between the secular and spiritual worlds. That gulf also produces a sense of tension. A third monk can be seen walking away in the far distance – the color and outline of his robes links him to the monks in the foreground, yet he is much smaller in scale and there is a large amount of negative space between him and his fellow monks, significantly reducing tension. The two monks in the foreground respond to the abstracted policeman in different ways – one lowers his head in humility, the other turns away with indifference. Both of these expressions intensify the tension in this image.

This image is an exquisite contradiction. The monk at first glance seems utterly relaxed as he watched me make pictures of him. I was using the full 420mm extension of my telephoto zoom, so he could not be exactly sure of what I was doing. I made this image as a silhouette to abstract his appearance and facial expression, and instead call attention to the outline of his body, crouched on the step of his residence. His hand is utterly limp, expressing a person at rest. Yet that hand hangs poised within an inch of his face, and there is considerable tension expressed within the sliver of negative space that flows between the hand and head. He may appear to be relaxed, yet his mind is working and the energy of those thoughts emerges through that tension.

The ability of the camera to freeze a moment in time can also help us express tension. By silhouetting this woman as she takes a soup break at a rest stop, I abstract her and thereby encourage the eye to read the profile rather than her expression. I create tension here by stopping a moment in time so the action is left uncompleted. The spoon full of soup already rests within the mouth, but it is not yet consumed. It is the negative space between the lips, teeth and spoon that carries the energy here. We see her during that first delicious moment of taste, her head pulled forward in anticipation of all that will follow. I’ve created additional visual tension by contrasting the diagonal flow of the arms and the horizontal flow of the spoon, to the downward vertical thrusts of the chopsticks and her long hair.

As I entered the museum gallery in the ancient Cham ruins at My Son, the first thing I noticed was the gesture of the multi-armed god Shiva. The hand over the heart is a universal gesture of love and compassion. A moment later, a tour guide began explaining the significance of the sculpture to his tour group. I anticipated his hand entering the frame, but had no idea that his fingers would fall within inches of Shiva’s fingers. And when they did, I tried to find the moment in time when the fingers would almost touch, yet still leave a sliver of negative space to create tension. It worked just as I had hoped. The tension between hand and hand is there, and so is the tension created by the sudden intrusion of the bare human arm, adding a human dimension to the spiritual sculpture.

This child appears reluctant to awaken her dozing mother, slumbering just outside of Saigon. Perhaps she is already awake and just pretending to be asleep? The little girl will soon find out. There is tension in the child’s body language and expression, as well as within the black negative space linking mother and child. That negative space is acting as an invisible barrier. Dare the child cross it?