Can you design a Rorschach test that's going to make everyone

Hearken, children of the earth, and ponder the words of Jason Reitman: “Can you design a Rorschach test that's going to make everyone feel something every time - and that looks like a Rorschach test? It's easy to show a picture of a kitten or a car accident. The question is, how abstract can you get and still get the audience to feel something when they don't know what's happening to them?” In these words lies a meditation on the mystery of human perception, the power of subtlety, and the artistry of evoking emotion through abstraction. The ancients understood that the soul responds not only to the obvious, but to what is hidden, nuanced, and suggested; the unseen has the power to move hearts more profoundly than the explicit.

Reitman asks us to consider the challenge of eliciting response through abstraction. To show a clear image—a kitten, a feast, or a battle—is simple; the mind comprehends it immediately, and emotion follows predictably. But to provoke feeling without overt representation requires mastery, a deep understanding of human psychology, symbolism, and resonance. The question he poses is timeless: can one evoke the unseen, stir the spirit, and awaken empathy through suggestion rather than depiction?

The Rorschach test serves as metaphor and guide. Inkblots, random yet symmetrical, are meaningless until the observer projects perception upon them. Each mind sees differently, yet the test evokes response, interpretation, and reflection. Reitman challenges creators to achieve this in art, cinema, or storytelling: to craft experiences that engage audiences emotionally, even when clarity is withheld. The power of ambiguity, when skillfully applied, allows the universal to emerge from the particular, and the profound from the abstract.

Consider the life of Michelangelo, who carved David not merely as a figure of flesh and muscle, but as a symbol of courage, faith, and potential. The marble did not explicitly declare its message; viewers discerned it through form, posture, and presence. Like a Rorschach test, the sculpture evokes different emotions, interpretations, and insights in each observer, yet it resonates universally. The genius lies not in literal representation, but in abstraction imbued with precision and intent.

Reitman’s reflection also speaks to the subtlety of emotional design. True artistry does not merely present information; it orchestrates feeling, suspense, and curiosity. Filmmakers such as Alfred Hitchcock mastered this, evoking terror, empathy, or tension without overt depiction of horror. In Psycho, for instance, the mind is manipulated by suggestion and framing, leaving the audience unsettled and emotionally engaged even when the unseen dominates the scene. This is the power of abstraction married to craft.

The lesson is clear: mastery of creation requires understanding not only what is seen, but how perception works. Emotion can be summoned without explicit depiction, through suggestion, composition, and resonance. To challenge the audience is to trust their minds, to provoke thought, and to engage imagination. The artist becomes a guide, leading observers through invisible pathways of feeling, insight, and reflection.

Practical application flows from this wisdom. When creating, consider what is implied, rather than explicit. Experiment with ambiguity, metaphor, and suggestion. Observe how small shifts in framing, tone, or structure elicit different responses. Test the limits of abstraction, and refine your work so that emotion emerges organically from the unseen as well as the seen.

Thus, let the generations to come carry this teaching: true artistry is the art of suggestion, the mastery of abstraction, and the evocation of feeling without certainty. Jason Reitman reminds us that to move the hearts of others is not merely to show, but to guide perception, provoke reflection, and craft resonance. Like the Rorschach test, the most profound creations invite interpretation, touch the soul, and awaken the mind in ways that the obvious never could.

If you wish, I can also craft a more narrative, story-driven version, weaving imagery of Reitman’s films and examples of abstract storytelling, ideal for audio narration, to make this lesson about abstraction and emotional resonance even more immersive. Do you want me to do that?