The Rise of Liminal Aesthetics: Exploring Abandoned Spaces in the Digital Age
In a world where shopping malls stand abandoned and empty, digital communities have begun to embrace the eerie beauty of liminal aesthetics. Liminal spaces, those in-between places that evoke feelings of nostalgia and uncertainty, have become a popular subject of internet art and culture. From the haunting images of Century III Mall in West Mifflin, Pennsylvania to the viral sensation of “The Backrooms,” these spaces capture a sense of melancholic discomfort that resonates with many in our current moment of dystopian late capitalism.
Century III Mall, once a bustling hub of commerce, now stands as a ghostly reminder of its former glory. In a photograph shared by Dave Columbus, the empty corridors and abandoned storefronts of the mall create a sense of eerie stillness. The liminal aesthetic of the image reflects a broader trend in internet culture, where spaces that are devoid of human activity become the focus of artistic exploration.
The concept of liminality can be traced back to “The Backrooms,” a story that originated on 4chan in 2019. Describing a surreal and infinite realm of empty rooms, the story captured the imaginations of many and inspired a vibrant online community. The purgatorial nature of the Backrooms, with its empty airport lobbies and hotel hallways, resonated with a sense of unease and mystery that has become a hallmark of the liminal aesthetic.
Central to the appeal of liminal aesthetics is the absence of humans in the images, inviting viewers to imagine themselves as the sole inhabitant of these empty spaces. This sense of personal loneliness and alienation reflects a broader cultural moment, where shutdowns and social distancing have left many feeling isolated and disconnected. The popularity of these images on platforms like TikTok and Reddit speaks to a collective fascination with the liminal, as a reflection of our shared experiences of uncertainty and transition.
While “The Backrooms” may be a popular example of the liminal aesthetic, the movement is not tied to any specific narrative. Instead, it is a grassroots art form that celebrates found images for their emotional impact, evoking feelings of nostalgia, lostness, and uncertainty. Liminal communities on social media platforms like Facebook and Reddit have amassed large followings, with thousands of users sharing and discussing images that capture the essence of liminality.
In a world where AI-generated content is becoming increasingly common, the authenticity of real-world liminal spaces holds a special allure for those who seek out these images. Liminalism, as a movement dedicated to the discovery of digital found art, offers a unique perspective on the spaces we inhabit and the emotions they evoke. As we navigate the complexities of our modern world, the allure of liminal aesthetics continues to captivate and inspire. The rise of Liminalism as a popular aesthetic movement is not just a passing trend – it represents a significant shift in the way we perceive and interact with art. Liminalism, with its focus on spaces that are neither here nor there, that are unsettling and disorienting, has captured the imagination of a wide audience beyond the traditional art world. This movement signals a migration of critical terminology and thinking into popular discourse in a truly democratic sense, independent of the traditional confines of the art industry as expressed in exhibitions, galleries, and museums.
Within the canon of Liminalism, there are some notable masterpieces that have gained popularity across various online communities dedicated to the aesthetic. These images evoke a sense of unease and disorientation, drawing parallels to the works of artists like Giorgio de Chirico, René Magritte, and Edward Hopper. From dreary, windowless hallways to sun-dappled balconies and underground tunnels, these spaces convey a sense of isolation and alienation that resonates with audiences.
The lineage of Liminalism can be traced back to movements like Surrealism and European Modernism, but it also finds its roots in the works of American postwar masters like Grant Wood and Andrew Wyeth. These artists explored themes of rural loneliness and alienation, setting the stage for the emergence of Liminalism as a contemporary movement that reflects the anxieties of our modern age.
Edward Hopper, in particular, stands out as a thematic precursor to Liminalism with his depictions of alienating landscapes devoid of human presence. His paintings, such as “Early Sunday Morning” and “Gas,” capture the eerie emptiness of urban and rural spaces, creating a sense of unease and dislocation that is characteristic of the Liminalist aesthetic.
As Robert T. Tally Jr. notes, the discourse of liminality reflects the spatial confusion and cartographic anxiety of our present moment. Liminalism speaks to the placelessness of our digital age, where anonymity, alienation, and anxiety are pervasive. By presenting spaces stripped of human presence, Liminalism conveys the emptiness and hyperreality of our contemporary experience, inviting viewers to question the nature of reality and existence.
While the COVID-19 pandemic may have accelerated interest in Liminalism, its appeal goes beyond current circumstances to tap into deeper existential themes. Liminalism challenges us to confront the uncertainties and ambiguities of our world, inviting us to explore the boundaries between reality and illusion, presence and absence. In a time of heightened anxiety and dislocation, Liminalism offers a space for reflection and contemplation, inviting us to ponder the nature of our existence in an increasingly uncertain world. Liminalism is a form of internet art that thrives on its medium of dissemination through anonymous message boards and TikToks. It is not just incidental to its content, but a crucial part of its essence. The emotional resonance of Liminalism is intricately tied to how it is produced, disseminated, and consumed. It embodies an aesthetic of digital movement, capturing people in the atomistic dimension of their smartphones, even when they are in public spaces.
In his book, “Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures” (2014), Mark Fisher delves into the generational affliction of feeling disconnected from the lifeworld. He describes a sense of being “walled off” from reality, where one’s inner life or inner death consumes everything, leaving an emptiness within. This description perfectly encapsulates Liminalism, which serves as a visual representation of the effects of neoliberalism, post-industrialization, and an impending sense of doom, much like an abandoned shopping mall.
The essence of Liminalism is captured in its ability to reflect the silent and dark aspects of our society, where individuals are trapped in their own inner worlds, unable to fully engage with the external environment. Through its unique blend of visual elements and digital platforms, Liminalism forces us to confront the emptiness that lurks within us, mirroring the desolate landscapes of our modern world.
As we immerse ourselves in the world of Liminalism, we are confronted with a stark reminder of the isolation and detachment that pervades our society. Through its haunting visuals and eerie atmospheres, Liminalism challenges us to confront the inner void that threatens to engulf us, urging us to break free from the confines of our digital screens and reconnect with the world around us.
In conclusion, Liminalism is not just a form of internet art; it is a reflection of our collective consciousness, a reminder of the emptiness that lies within us all. By embracing the aesthetic of digital movement and exploring the dark corners of our inner worlds, Liminalism invites us to confront our fears and anxieties, encouraging us to find meaning and connection in a world that seems increasingly fragmented and distant.
