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This history of maps is a history of shifting power relations, essentially between the growing, consolidating state and its citizens, allies, and enemies; but ultimately between governments and those affected by them at all levels and in every aspect of life. As these relationships unfolded the idea of making and using maps gradually turned into one of mediating all kinds of relationships among all kinds of people in all walks of life.

This took five hundred years.

Today maps spread the power of the state into every dimension of our existence, but they also show us the route to the theater, the location of animal species, and where people are having sex. Yet it's worth thinking about the history of this tool we so take for granted because that history infects everything we do with it.

In the Beginning

In thinking about the history of mapmaking it's important to acknowledge that making marks about the relationships of things in space is a birthright of the species. We can all do it, and humans have had this ability since they were humans. So the ability to think about things in space and make marks to communicate them is as old as humankind.

But who needs to make marks about things in space? People living in small groups with constant and ongoing face-to-face communication about hunting, about gathering, even about agriculture, usually don't. They certainly have no need to make them permanent, and so such maps as they may have occasionally made were probably scratched in the dirt or drawn in the air. Who knows?

What we do know is that they left no maps for us to look at.

People make claims about prehistoric maps, but these claims are always doubtful, impossible to substantiate, and often have been proven false, as in the case of the famous "picture map" from Catal Huyuk, c. 6200 BCE, which is now acknowledged as a decorative frieze - despite its "representation of the mountain Hasan Dag in profile with its volcano erupting," this "eruption" now acknowledged ... as a smudge. (1)

The thing is, people make maps to discover their minds and to connect themselves. These are the same reasons people talk, and where talk serves maps are rare. But ... when talk becomes inadequate, either because things get too complicated, or there are too many people, or they are separated by too great distances or too much time - as invariably happens with the emergence of modern states - people develop alternative forms of communication. (2)

For the past thirty thousand years people have been making things that anticipate the sorts of things that today we call badges and genealogies and inventories and almanacs and histories and itineraries and maps, "anticipate" because the distinctions we now draw so automatically among these very different discourse functions took a long time to evolve, and in many cases have only recently achieved their current forms. Paleolithic peoples bundled these discourse functions together on incised bones. (3) We've been pulling them apart ever since.

Elaborating on Paleolithic achievements, people have constructed an ever-widening repertoire of cultural forms - clothing, ritual, pottery, dance, painting, sculpture, architecture, drawing, writing, books, prints, film - within which they've encoded ever more-elaborate communications. Paralleling the proliferation of forms has been a comparable expansion in the powers of sign systems - gestural, sculptural, pictorial, pictographic, symbolic, numeric, syllabic, consonantal, alphabetic, and others - often overlapped and mixed up in rich syntheses of functions, forms, and meanings.

Among these syntheses the map is comparatively novel.

Most English speakers use "map" in a straightforward way to describe an artifact, still very commonly printed on paper if increasingly taking electronic form, that selectively links places in the world [theres) to other kinds of things (to thises) - to taxes, for example, and to voting rights, to species abundance, and to the incidence of rainfall - for the purpose of underwriting the reproduction (or the contestation) of the social relations of power. That is, maps are more or less permanent, more or less graphic artifacts that support the descriptive function in human discourse that links territory to other things, advancing in this way the interests of those making (or controlling the making) of the maps.

Such maps have comparatively shallow roots in human history, almost all of them having been made since 1500. In fact almost all the maps ever made have been made during the past hundred years, the overwhelming majority in the past few decades. So many maps are made today, and they are reproduced in such numbers, that no one any longer has any idea how many. The maps printed annually by no more than the world's newspapers easily number in the billions. In contrast, the maps surviving from everywhere in the world for all of human history prior to the rise of the modern state number, in a very inclusive definition of the map, in the very low thousands, as if all the humans on the planet had made a single map each year one here, another there - across the preceding couple of millennia. (4)

Paralleling the explosion in map numbers has been a corresponding penetration of the map into ever deeper recesses of our lives. If there is some sense in which maps may be said to have existed in the ancient and medieval worlds, they were confined to sporadic large-scale property-control, and rare small-scale cosmological-speculation functions. (5)

This is to say that starting around 2300 bee, Babylonian scribes made large-scale drawings of temples, houses, and fields that might have been related to property transactions; that during the eighth century ce, Japanese scribes made large-scale drawings of paddy fields to document ownership during a period of intense landholding consolidation, as well as large-scale drawings of shrines and temples; that from the twelfth through the fifteenth centuries ce, English scribes made large-scale drawings of monasteries, cathedrals, and fields, invariably for planning and legal purposes; and so on. (6)

That is, unquestionably, a very large-scale, graphic, property-control function can be documented prior to the emergence of the modern state, sporadically and discontinuously, in various places around the world; nor can there be any question that these drawings participated in local property control traditions. But equally there is no suggestion that they participated in anything like ... a broader mapmaking tradition.

For example, there were no connections at all to the rare, small-scale cosmograms that can also be documented from equally disparate times and places, for example to the well-known "Babylonian World Map" of c. 600 bee; no connections to medieval European mappaemundi; and no connections to Buddhological world maps such as the Japanese Gotenjiku Zu of the fourteenth century. (7)

Again, nobody doubts that these drawings participated in local traditions of cosmological speculation, but again the lack of any connection to the large-scale property-control tradition makes it hard to maintain that there was any sort of overarching mapmaking tradition to which these drawings could be tributary; much less a mapmaking tradition that penetrated to any degree at all the lives of ordinary men and woman.

More Recently...

Contrast this, now, with the radically different situation that dawns with the sixteenth century when vast swaths of territory were increasingly subjected to systematic surveys by newly self-conscious states.

In 1559, for example the Hapsburg emperor, Philip II of Spain, commissioned a detailed survey of his possessions in the Netherlands, in 1566 of those in Spain, in 1575 of those in southern Italy, and in 1577 of those in New Spain. In 1591, the Japanese hegemon, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, ordered all daimyo to submit summary cadastral maps and records for the construction of a country-wide cadaster, and the shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu ordered the submission of a second set of cadastral and cartographic documents in 1604. In 1663 Louis XIV's minister for home affairs, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, commissioned the collection of surveys and maps to cover all of France; while in 1666 the governor of Siberia commissioned the mapping of the territories under his control.

Most early modern states initiated similar projects. (8)

If not all these commissions were completed as initially hoped - for example, Philip's of New Spain wasn't, returns from Hideyoshi's request were spotty - such efforts very much laid the ground for increasingly comprehensive and intrusive surveys, including the nineteenth century inauguration of national topographic mapping programs which were widely completed during the twentieth century, as well as the production, to give one example, of fire and insurance atlases that not only posted the ground plans of individual homes but included the construction details of heating systems. (9)

Today we map the weather in something approaching real time, the locations of sex offenders, the residences of donors to political parties and the size of their donations, school attendance zones, atmospheric ozone, the conversion of rainforest to farm land, the route to any cinema from your home address, regularly-updated locations of roadblocks in the West Bank, reported instances of the West Nile Virus, yesterday's crimes sorted by type of crime, the locations of tomorrow's highway-construction delays, deaths in the Middle East, cell phone towers, the tax value of homes, bus routes, bike paths, election returns by precincts, counties, and states, consumer preferences by Is there something we don't map? In fact so pervasive and taken for granted are maps that it is hard to accept the recency [and the continued relative isolation) of their general use, or to appreciate the seventeenth century explosion in their numbers that we continue to experience today.

Maps of Alternative Worlds

At the same time, maps became tools for imagining alternative worlds, mostly at the hands of novelists, but in the twentieth century maps emerged in the practices of artists too.

As early as 1516 a map of an imaginary island had been published as the frontispiece to Thomas More's Utopia. It was probably too early to expect this to be called a map, and besides the book was in Latin so it's called, "Utopiae Insulae Figura," but it's quite map like. The extremely high oblique perspective is underscored by the ships in the foreground and in the background by the mainland which is seen almost head-on. With the buildings in profile the island has an almost axonometric feel. (10)

Over the next four-and-halfhundred years the use of maps to lend credence to imaginary places would explode, and with the publication in the middle of the seventeenth century of Madeleine de Scudery's "Carte de Tendre" in Clelie (ten volumes, 1654-61), the door was opened onto the instantly popular world of allegorical maps (the "Map of Tenderness," the "Map of the Realm of Love," the "Map of Marriage," the "Map of the Realm of Coquetry"). (11)

Both imaginary and allegorical maps proliferated. In the later seventeenth century Johann Andreas Schnebelin wrote about, and Johann Baptist Homann made maps of the utopian Schlaraffenland. (12) A couple of decades after that Matthaus Seutter was mapping an "Attack of Love." (13) In 1726 Jonathan Swift famously published Gulliver's Travels with its maps of Lilliput and Houyhnhnms Land. (14) Almost as famously Robert Louis Stevenson published his map of Treasure Island in 1883. (15)

In the twentieth century the allegorical map stream dwindled, through it very much trickles into the present. Katharine Harmon not only illustrates a nice variety of these maps in her You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Imagination, but constructs her book's acknowledgments - "The River of Gratitude" - as an allegorical map of a kind devised by Louise van Swaaij and Jean Klare for their The Atlas of Experience. (16)

On the other hand, the mapping of imaginary places swelled into an Amazon at flood. The potent examples of E. H. Shepard's maps of the "100 aker wood" and Toad Hall, (17) and especially J. R. R. Tolkien's maps of Middle-earth in The Hobbit, and his son Christopher Tolkien's maps in The Lord of the Rings (18) inspired everyone with a pen - or a mouse - to start making maps of imaginary worlds, maps which turned into game boards (see Dungeons and DragonsJ, which in turn evolved into map-based video games, like Grand Theft Auto, and so into massively multiplayer online role-playing games like World of Warcraft, that is to say ... into an enormous industry. (19) Marvel Comics (Spider-Man, the X-Men, Wolverine, the Fantastic Four) has even published a Marvel Atlas of its Marvel Universe, yes, with old Afghanistan, Australia, Austria, and so on in it, but with Camelia, too, and Carpasia, Latveria, Lemuria, Madripoor, Rumekistan, Sin-Cong, and Vorozheika together with large-scale maps of cities like Doomstadt and Polaria. (20)

Map Art

In the latter part of this development - in the early twentieth century - artists too began using maps.

Every artist has a different tale, but since the early 1990s more and more artists have had to explain to interviewers how it was they began making art with maps. This wasn't something artists used to have to explain, and it's not like they could point to a long string of precedents. There was earlier map art, in the precise sense I'm using the term here, but not much of it.

In fact map art emerged with Dada and Surrealism. Except for the pre-Surrealist Giorgio de Chirico's The Melancholy of Departure (1916), Hannah Hoch's Cut with Cake-Knife, c. 1919-1920 in a fuller rendering, Cut with the Kitchen Knife Dada through the Last Epoch of Weimar Beer-Belly Culture of Germany - is the earliest example I've been able to find. (21) Uncertainty about the date might mean that Raoul Hausmann's A Bourgeois Precision Brain Incites World Movement (also known as Dada Triumphs! or Dada Conquers, 1920) or his Tatlin at Home (1920) could be earlier, but this wouldn't much matter since HOch and Hausmann were lovers and worked together.

In any case we know of very little earlier map art, (22) and certainly we have every reason to believe that the central motivation was a renunciation of everything that had made World War I possible: of reason, of logic, of the state system, of the maps that sustained it. The Surrealist poet Paul Eluard recalled that he and his friend, Max Ernst, had been "at Verdun together and used to shoot at each other," and their subsequent lifelong friendship powerfully informed their renunciation of a system that in the name of the state had encouraged them to kill each other. (23) Both had been Dadas - in fact, when they first met, Ernst was still Dadamax - and both became leading Surrealists, as Surrealism absorbed much of what formerly had been Dada. Both also proceeded to make map art, Eluard the 1929 Surrealist map of the world and Ernst the 1933 end-of-the-world allegory, Europe After the Rain I.

The 1929 Surrealist map of the world - Le monde au temps des Surrealists - is without much question the single best-known piece of map art. (24) People know it - people wear it on tee-shirts! who have no idea what it is. No authorship has ever been claimed for it, or assigned, but it is actually not unreasonable to hazard the guess that it was Eluard. (25)

Eluard at the time was the managing editor of Le Surrealisme au Service de la Revolution for whose pages the map had been originally intended, the map and all the rest of the contents of what instead turned into a special issue of the Belgian journal, Varietes, which Eluard also edited. (26) Circumnavigating the globe in 1924, Eluard had spent time in Southeast Asia and the East Indies where he had been angered by the horrors of Dutch and French colonialism. (27) Eluard had recorded his route on a map, Les Cinq Parties du Monde, Planisphere, Comprenant toutes Ies Possessions Coloniales, a classic of the era that displayed, on a Mercator projection, English colonial possessions in yellow, French in pink, Dutch in orange, Italian in mauve, and so on. (28)

The map must have presented an irresistible target to the increasingly anticolonial Eluard who in 1929 proceeded to trace over the Cinq Parties and its toutes Ies Possessions Coloniales to create a vibrantly anti-colonial map that not only erased the U.S. and most of Europe (of France only Paris survives), but that wildly exaggerated the size of the South Sea islands that Eluard believed most capable of disrupting the rationalist hegemony of Europe. (The Mercator that Eluard had traced already exaggerated the Inuit regions where the Surrealists also saw promise.) Eluard also replaced the old equator with a new one - one that greatly resembled the route of his circumnavigation. Is Le monde au temps des Surrealists the first to be constructed as a counter-map? That is, not simply appropriated and recontextualized, but made against another map? It's the first I know of.

Ernst made his 1933 "end-of-theworld allegory," Europe After the Rain I (29) in response to German propaganda maps, that is, in response to Hitler's seizure of power in Germany, which Ernst saw as calamitous. In Ernst's vision of Europe's future, not only has Europe been laid waste, but every trace of the civilization the Surrealists detested has been obliterated. (30) The continent itself has been so reshaped that only the title lets us know this is Europe. When James Joyce saw the picture, he's said to have found a play on words which acts as a verbal equivalent: "Europe - Puree - Pyorrhee," except that in Ernst's imagination the fire had been succeeded by a virulent growth that smothered the decomposing landscape (Europe After the Rain II, 1940-42. (31)

Ernst continued to use maps in his work, painting Le Jardin de la France in 1962, and coilaging elements of maps into such later works as Configuration No. 16 (19 74), (32) where he was mythologizing aspects of maps other than their portrayal of the state system. He was far from the only Surrealist to do so. As early as 1925 Salvador Dali had made a collage that incorporated map fragments, and in 1939 Dali painted his Baby Map of the World. (33)

By then Joseph Cornell had already begun making boxes that incorporated maps: of the moon (Soap Bubble Set, 1936), the South Seas (Solomon Islands, 1940-42, Object (Roses des vents), 1942-53) and European cities (Medici Slot Machine (Object), 1942, Medici Slot Machine, 1943); and later he'd work with world maps (Trade Winds No. 2, c. 1956-58), diagrams of the solar system (Untitled (Solar Set), c. 1956-58), and star charts (Observatory Colomba Carrousel, c. 1953). (34) In 1943 Marcel Duchamp had made his Allegorie de genre, punning a map of the United States with the head of George Washington; (35) and Joaquin Torres-Garcia had made his southup map for La Escuela del Sur. (36)

In 1950 the Letterist, Maurice Lemaitre, had published Riff-raff, a tenpage "metagraphy," which included a sequence that zoomed from the solar system through a drawing of the earth to maps of Europe, France, and Paris, and finally one of Saint Germain de Pres. (37) More famously, in the later 1950s, the Situationists made "psychogeographique" maps - Guy Debord and his Situationist colleague, Asger Jorn, made two maps of Paris, the Guide Psychogeographique de Paris (1956) and The Naked City (1957) but by this time map art was beginning to pop up all over the place. (38)

In this growing body of work, artists were grappling not just with the idea of the nation-state, but with that of the region (as Ernst had), the privilege granted the north (as had TorresGarcia), and zoning and planning (in the case of Debord and Jorn). More generally, they assumed the power of maps to construe and construct the world they lived in, a world they by and large rejected.

Robert Rauschenberg had been making art with maps as early as 1956 too, xxxix but more notoriously, in the early 1960s Jasper Johns began making paintings of maps [Map, 1961, Map, 1962, Map, 1963). Johns was at the height of his notoriety and his Map paintings were widely reproduced. His largest map painting, a mural for Montreal's Expo '67, based on one of Buckminster Fuller's Dymaxion projections, attracted widespread international attention. (40)

In a related but highly individual vein, Claes Oldenberg began producing stuffed maps of Manhattan (Soft Manhattan No. 1 (Postal Zones), 1966), while Oyvind Fahlstrom worked on board-game maps of the world (World Map, 1972; Garden (A World Model), 1973). (41) Fluxus artists - including Yoko Ono, Robert Watts, and George Brecht were making map pieces too, notably Yoko Ono's early Map Piece (1962) and Watt's Fluxatlas (of the 1970s). (42) At the same time, earthworks artists such as Robert Smithson, Walter De Maria, Dennis Oppenheim, Adrian Piper, Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Nancy Holt, James Turrell, and others began working with maps to plan, execute, and document their work, as did artists such as Nancy Graves, Susan Hiller, and Gordon MattaClark. (43) Smithson's Map of Clear Broken Glass Stripes (Atlantis), 1969, with its collaged and pencil-drawn maps, was a "sketch" for the outline of Atlantis that Smithson was to lay out on in sheets of glass in the Jersey Meadowlands. Piper's Parallel Grid Proposal for Dugway Proving Ground Headquarters, 1968, used maps to lay out an enormous, two-mile-square steel-grid proposed to float on I-beams a half-mile off the ground. (As the sun moved across the steel beams it would cast a moving coordinate grid over the Dugway headquarters.]

Christo and Jeane-Claude could never have constructed their landscape pieces, from Valley Curtain (1970-1972) through 2005's The Gates (1979-2005), without maps, first, as an essential aspect of the drawings Christo sells to raise money to support their projects; then as planning, approval, and construction documents; and finally as aides to the appreciation of the work. The Environmental Impact Statement for Running Fence (1972-1976), for example, ran to over 450 pages, many of them maps; and in 2005, thousands and thousands of The Gates Map were sold to help visitors negotiate the piece in Central Park. (44)

With Nancy Graves drawing maps of the moon (as in her suite, Lithographs Based on Geologic Maps of Lunar Orbiter and Apollo Landing Sites, 1972), Susan Hiller performing and drawing dream maps (as in her Composite Group Dream Map, Night of 23/24 August, 1974), and Sol LeWitt cutting holes in air photos of New York (Photograph of Part of Manhattan with Area Between the John Weber Gallery, the former Dwan Gallery, and Sol LeWitt's Residence Cut Out, 1977), maps were all over the post-Minimalist landscape. (45)

As these examples may already have begun to suggest, maps had a peculiar salience in the work of Conceptual artists as well as "earth artists" of a more conceptual bent. Stanley Brouwn, On Kawara, Douglas Huebler, General Idea, Terry Atkinson and Michael Baldwin (later Art and Language), Alighiero e Boetti, Jan Dibbets, Hans Haacke, Fiona Templeton, Richard Long, and others all worked with maps through the '70s, '80s, and '90s, some continuing to do so into the present. Stanley Brouwn began his "this way brouwn" series in 1961. In these he asked for directions from passers-by in the form of sketch maps which he then stamped "this way brouwn." (46)

More centrally On Kawara and Douglas Huebler began making map art in 1968, when Kawara began his I Went series, and Huebler his Site Sculpture Projects. In I Went Kawara would use red ballpoint to trace each day's movements onto photocopies of city street maps, accumulating the maps in a form of selfdocumentation related to his I Met and / Read series. (47) Huebler's Site Sculpture Projects, in contrast, denotated a site marked on a map as a piece of sculpture. The projects consisted of Huebler's statement, the map, ancillary documentation, and the site. Or sites: in the case of the 42g Parallel Piece, these were fourteen cities. (48)

Some of the artists played with the idea of the map itself. Terry Atkinson and Michael Baldwin made their famous Map not to indicate: Canada, James Bay ... (1967), with its endless title and an enframed Iowa and Kentucky. In his Texas Goes to Europe (1971), Terry Allen let the place names of Texas run amok over a map of Europe. (49)

For many of these artists the map constituted an occasional medium, but for others making maps became what they did. Alighiero Boetti - or Alighiero e Boetti - is a case in point, or sort of a case in point, because the maps he so famously made were actually embroidered by Afghani artisans, first in Kabul, and later in refugee camps in Peshawar, Pakistan. Over two decades some 150 of the large, colorful wall hangings were made (they're some five-by-seven feet), all of them identically titled Mappa (1971-1994). (50)

Boetti began working with maps the same year Atkinson and Baldwin made Map to not indicate ..., 1967, but the work could hardly be more different. Boetti's Twelve Forms from 10 June 1967 (19671971) were traced from newspaper maps of places impacted by war. Triggered by the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the first tracing was of a map of the Occupied Territories, a tracing that in turn became his first embroidered work, the Occupied

Territories (1969). That was also the year he made Political Planisphere (1969), a school map of the world on which he'd colored in each country with its flag. In 1971, the embroidered Occupied

Territories and the richly colored Political Planisphere merged in the first Mappa, not only a great piece of map art, but one of the masterworks of the Conceptual art movement.

Richard Long began working with maps the same year that Atkinson, Baldwin, and Boetti did, 1967, and again, the work could scarcely be more different. 1967 is the year Long decided to make sculpture out of walking, and if his earlier pieces - like the 1964 drawing he made with a snowball on snow-covered grass - were completely evanescent, the walks were documented with text, photographs, and maps, the three more and more coming to comprise a unified whole. The first piece of Long's to use maps was Ben Nevins Hitch Hike (1967), and maps have not only remained an aspect of his documentation process, but turned into works of art in their own right. Here's a map of wind direction according to the compass he was carrying on a 46-mile walk inside a circle he drew on a map of Dartmoor (1994). (51)

If there'd been plenty of map art earlier, the 1990s is when map art really exploded. Even as many of these established artists continued to work in map art - and other established artists began to make map art (Ed Ruscha's an example) - younger artists took to the medium with an almost unseemly enthusiasm, and since then have churned out a body of work as varied as it is enormous. In no particular order, Wim Delvoye, Aleksandra Mir, Lordy Rodriquez, elin O'Hara salvick, Suzzane Slavick, Nina Kathadourian, Lize Mogel, Lauren Rosenthal, Simon Elvins, John McQueen, Kim Dingle, Chris Kenny, Guillermo Kuitca, Paula Scher, Simon Patterson, Jaune Quick-to-See Smith, Kathy Prendergast, Kevin Wilson, Louise van Swaaji and Jean Klare, Lilia LoCurto and Bill Outcault, Ai Weiwei, kanarinka, spurse, Lars Arrhenius, Mona Hatoum, Jane Hammond, Dan Mills, Matthew Picton, Alfredo Jaar

Map Art Shows

But there's practically no end to this list and in fact the best way to get a handle on what's been going on is to look at map art exhibitions. The earliest exhibitions devoted to map art I've been able to find seem to be two held in 1977: Maps, at the Art Lending Services Gallery of the Museum of Modern Art, and Artists' Maps, at the Philadelphia College of Art. There was another the following year at the Nobe Gallery in New York, (52) and then, in short order, Terri Lonier organized cARTography in 1980 for the John Michael Kohler Arts Center in Sheboygan (showing the work of fortyfive artists] (53) Roberta Smith curated Four Artists and the Map in 1981 for the Spencer Art Museum in Lawrence, Kansas; (54) and Peter Frank curated the touring Mapped Art the same year for Independent Curators International (showing the work of sixty-seven artists]. (55) In 1991 Ihor Holubizky curated an innovative show he called Atlas for the Art Gallery of Hamilton, Ontario;lvi and when in 1994 Robert Storr organized the exhibition, Mapping, for New York's Museum of Modern Art, he had to note that unbeknownst to him Frances Colpitt had been organizing an exhibition at the same time with the same name that would be touring Texas. (57) Altogether unknown to him was Art on the Map, the show that Gregory Knight mounted that same year for the Chicago Culture Center. (58)

Since then the number of map art exhibitions has grown steadily. There was (at least ] one in 1995, two in 1996, another in 1997, another big one in 1998, important ones in 1999, 2000, and in 2001 there were two. I know of three shows from 2002, including Jane England's massive The Map is Not the Territory for England & Co. in London. In 2003 there were three, and there were four in 2004. There were two in 2005, but in 2006, there were ... six, two in New York, one in Westport, one in San Francisco, another in Melbourne (Australia], and the last in Essex (England]. There were at least nine map shows in 2007. I say "at least" because the growing numbers makes them harder to track, and I'm betting there were shows I didn't hear about: in Seattle, Santa Monica, Chicago, Spencertown, Providence, Cincinnati, Sun Valley, New York, and Cork (in Ireland]. I hope you've noticed the continuous growth in the number of shows: two in 2005, six in 2006, nine in 2007, and ... fourteen in 2008, hanging in Chicago, another in Chicago, Rockland, a third in Chicago, Washington, Cincinnati, Honolulu, Copenhagen, Bucharest, Urnea (in Sweden], New York, Brooklyn, Greencastle (in Indiana - a big traveling show that went everywhere], and the anarchist NC Community Cartographies Convergence and Exhibit at Golden Belt Arts in Durham (and elsewhere in the area) with its self-hung show, parallel exhibition of the Atlas of Radical Cartography, guest lectures (Paglen, Mogel, Alexis Bhagat, me, John Krygier, Jeremy Crampton, Pedro Lasch, and others), panels, tours, and so on. And so on. (59)

There were a bunch in 2009 and then eleven in 2010, in the US, England, France, Catalonia. There were nine in 2011, not counting those that slopped over from the previous year, adding Portugal and Norway to list of countries having hosted map art exhibitions. In 2012 I know of five, including big shows in France and Catalonia, but from 2013 I know about eleven, in Israel, Portugal, England, France, and New Zealand, as well as the US.

And this doesn't begin to touch it. I haven't mentioned a single one of the many, many one-person map art shows the incredible work of Sayaka Akiyama, of Joshua Neustein, of Greg Colson, the bizarre map paintings of Matthew Cusick, the powerful montages made by the architect/artist, Deborah Natsios, the map paintings of Peter Dykhuis, the ceramic work of Janet Williams, the interest in maps on the part of Slavs & Tatars (60) -, or to the anthologies, articles, and scholarly work that's been unfolding at the same time (see Else/Where: Mapping, see David Pinder's "Cartographies Unbound" (61)). Of signal importance was Katharine Harmon's 2004 book, You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Imagination. Along with other maps, this beautiful book included work by better than four dozen contemporary map artists. Following its publication so many other map artists came to Harmon's attention that in 2009 she published the even more beautiful The Map as Art: Contemporary Artists Explore Cartography, with another twelve dozen artists. (62)

In 2006 I was able to list better than two hundred contemporary map artists in a catalogue for Cartographic Perspectives; and three years later I was able to double the number. (63) I have no idea today how many artists are working with maps. At the same time map art has come to the attention of academics. David Woodward was among the first to pay attention, and the late Denis Cosgrove among the most recent; (64) and student work has ranged from the pioneering masters thesis Dalia Varanka wrote (under Jim Blaut), (65) to the doctoral dissertations recently completed by Marie Cieri (under Neil Smith) and James Ketchum (under Don Mitchell). (66) Cieri, in fact, came to geography as an arts professional, and her dissertation sketches possibilities for map art as yet unrealized.

Map art sessions have been held at the annual meetings of the Association of American Geographers and the North American Cartographic Information Society, whose journal, Cartographic Perspectives, has not only featured map art on its cover, but devoted an entire issue to map art. (67) Just a couple of months ago Thames and Hudson published Hans Ulrich Obrist's Mapping It Out, with over 130 contributors.

Maps have become regular features in even the biggest of big city galleries, as for example, Aleksandra Mir's The Church of Sharpie maps shown at Mary Boone in 2006; (68) and the/re setting auction records for even recently established artists, like the $228,000 paid for Ai Weiwei's 2004 Map of China at Sotheby's in 2006. (69)

What It's All About

What does all this mean?

I think it's a sign of the end times, the end times of the map as we've come to know it, that is. Brought into being in an age on the cusp of print, maps flourished together with printing. It was printing that enabled mapmakers to spread not just their maps but the idea of mapmaking from its early centers in China, Japan, Europe, what would become Mexico, and elsewhere ... to, not only the rest of the world, but throughout society from top to bottom. It was printing that changed maps from a manuscript medium to a popular one, from an arcane art apparently open only to a few to one in which everyone feels competent to ... I don't know, publish them.

It wasn't long ago, barely fifty years, when, beginning to collect what we then called "mental maps," I'd constantly run into people who'd say things like, "Oh, I can't make a map," or "I don't understand maps." They were usually older people, or people occupying marginal places in society, but they're harder to find these days. The fact is, 75% of the world's population uses cell phones these days. These aren't all Internet enabled, but at least 1.75 billion of them are and all of these - and that's a huge number - display maps on site after site after site. By 2017 half the world's cell phone users - by then expected to amount to 90% of the world's population - will be using smart phones. That'll be over 4 billion people, and they'll all have access to map upon map upon map.

And the thing is, these are less and less likely to be, and less and less to be like, the old paper maps most of us still use the word "map" to refer to. These new maps can be read at almost any scale - with a little pressure on a scroll button - and seen from almost any point of view. Further clicks open associated files or take you to associated websites. It takes only a click to change the age of the map, or the age of its data, or the displayed categories, or the subject. Or to find another map. Maps are animated, they morph and twist, and as they dance across our screens they are less and less the maps we, at least I, grew up with, and more and more some kind of graphic of the future. They may still be linked to the territory but they won't be the maps we knew: they'll be new kinds of things, and they'll do new kinds of things in new kinds of ways.

They'll reflect the new technology of the computer just as the old maps reflected the printing press, the new technology of its time.

Will they continue to play the same roles in our lives they used to? No. Those roles won't exist after a while or they'll exist only as historical artifacts in whatever is going to pass for plays and novels and movies. I don't expect this to a happy time for humankind - as ever growing numbers fight over limited resources - but I do expect it to be a time as different from ours as mine today is from the world I was born into. In that world map art was a rare thing: you could count the world's map artists on the fingers of two hands, four hands at the very most; and those folk made little enough map art. Hundreds and hundreds of artists work with maps today and this inevitably corrodes the authority maps require to carry out their fundamental roles of delimiting and conveying property, of giving shape to the nation-state, of ... well, facilitating the control of space.

Yes, police and soldiers are everywhere these days, guarding borders and protecting property, but they're everywhere because maps are falling down on the job of doing it for them. The authority of the map, once protected by its rarity, its abstruse opacity, by its selfdeclared definitiveness, is being destroyed by the map's omnipresence, by its transparency, by its consumption as an art form. When maps are no longer capable of saying, "This is mine," or "This is ours," with any kind of strength, other forms of control have to take over and today these are people bearing arms.

But cops and soldiers lack the... extensivity ... of maps. They're good at guarding points, but they're bad at securing lines and so borders are less and less meaningful; and so the rise of map art is also a sign of the decline of the state, an institution that, like printing and the map, is a creature of past five or so hundred years. They grew up together and together they're falling into their dotage. What comes next? Only time can say...



* Denis Wood e ex-professor da North Carolina State University, nos Estados Unidos. Publicando artigos sobre mapas e poder desde os anos 1980, o autor e uma referencia importante para o estudo das relacoes entre cartografia e cultura. Entre os seus principais livros encontram-se "The Power of Maps", "Making Maps" and "Weponizing Maps", este ultimo lancado em 2015.

(1) Catherine Deano Smith, "Cartography in the Prehistoric Period in the Old World," in J. B Harley and David Woodward's The History of Cartography, Volume One (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1987), pp. 54-101, caption to figure 4.19, p. 74.

(2) "Speech, the universal way by which humans communicate and transmit experience, fades instantly," begins Denise Schmandt-Besserat in her Before Writing: From Counting to Cuneiform (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1992), still the most convincing account of the origin of writing in the Middle East - better than five thousand years ago - for the counting and accounting of goods with clay tokens. Writing arose out of the need to store information and transmit it over space and over time; and whenever these needs arose, writing systems emerged.

(3) An excellent introduction to these rich fusions of functions remains Alexander Marshack's The Roots of Civilization: The Cognitive Beginnings of Man's First Art, Symbol, and Notation, revised and expanded, Moyer Bell, Mt. Kisco, New York, 1991.

(4) Again, the easiest way to convince yourself of this is to peruse the 3,000 published pages of the History of Cartography project, many of whose articles have admirable appendices with lists of extant maps together with their dates; and when I say "maps" here I mean maps according to Harley and Woodward's mind-bogglingly inclusive definition so that these lists represent the outer limits. For serious reservations about this definition, see J. H. Andrews, "Reflections on the Harley-Woodward Definition of 'maps'," Irish Geography 40(2), 2007, pp, 200-205.

(5) Along with the putative appearance in China of an exceptional military mapping function as early as the third century ad, and the late medieval appearance in the Mediterranean of a coastal sailing function. For the Chinese case, see the treatment of the third century ce Pei Xiu's treatise on mapmaking in Cordell D. K. Yee's "Taking the World's Measure: Chinese Maps between Observation and Text," in Harley and Woodward, eds., The History of Cartography, Vol. 2.2, Cartography in the Traditional East and Southeast Asian Societies (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1994). This has to be taken as an interim report, for work on the early history of Chinese mapmaking remains in its infancy. For the coastal sailing function see Tony Campbell, "Portolan Charts from the Late Thirteenth Century to 1500," in Harley and Woodward, eds., The History of Cartography, Vol. 1, Cartography in Prehistoric, Ancient, and Medieval Europe and the Mediterranean (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1987), pp. 371-463.

(6) For the Babylonian case, see A. R. Millard, "Cartography in the Ancient Near East," in Harley and Woodward, Vol. 1, op. cit., pp. 107-116; for the Japanese case, see Kazutaka Unno, "Cartography in Japan," in Harley and Woodward, Vol. 2.2, op. cit., pp. 346-477; and for the English case, see, for example, M. W. Beresford, "Inclesmoor, West Riding of Yorkshire, circa 1407," among others, in R. A. Skelton and P. D. A. Harvey, eds., Local Maps and Plans from Medieval England (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1986), pp. 147-162.

(7) Millard calls the Babylonian "map" a diagram in Millard, op. cit., p. Ill; Harvey characterizes mappaemundi as diagrams in his Mappa Mundi: The Hereford World Map (University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1996), p. 21, and in much other writing; Thongchai Winichakul uses the term "Buddhological" in his Siam Mapped: A History of the Geo-Body of a Nation (University of Hawai'i Press, Honolulu, 1994), p. 22. For a photograph of the Gotenjiku Zu see Unno, op. cit., p. 372.

(8) Sources for these materials include the following: for Philip II, Geoffrey Parker, "Maps and Ministers: The Spanish Hapsburgs," in David Buisseret, ed., Monarchs, Ministers, and Maps: The Emergence of Cartography as a Tool of Government in Early Modern Europe (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1992), pp. 124-152, and Barbara E. Mundy, The Mapping of New Spain: Indigenous Cartography and the Maps of the Relaciones Geograficas (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1996); for Japan, Mary Elizabeth Berry, Japan in Print: Information and Nation in the Early Modern Period (University of California Press, Berkeley, 2006); for Louis, David Buisseret, "Monarchs, Ministers, and Maps in France before the Accession of Louis XIV," in Buisseret, ed., op. cit., pp. 88-123; and for Siberia, Valerie Kivelson, Cartographies of Tzardom: The Land and Its Meaning in Seventeenth Century Russia (Cornell University Press, Ithaca, 2006).

(9) One of Berry's most important contributions is her documentation of the way the map rapidly permeated the fabric of Japanese life. Her book opens with a description of the print resources, including maps, available to a clerk traveling from Kyoto to Edo in 1710. There was already a wealth of maps of Japan to choose from, and a wealth of route maps, and a wealth of maps of Edo. Indeed, over 200 different maps of Edo had been published during the first decade of the eighteenth century alone. Berry contextualizes the maps with the wealth of histories, guidebooks, and rosters, including the rosters of prostitutes and actors, most of which were accompanied by maps of their own. If it sounds like Google Maps, apparently it was!

(10) This is most pronounced in the original, Louvain, edition, and much less so in the more elaborately and three-dimensionally rendered version of the revised 1518 Basel edition. The latter was drawn by Ambrosius Holbein, and while it's unknown who drew the original, see the speculation in the Edward Surtz and J. H. Hexter edition of Utopia (Yale University Press, New Haven, 1965), pp. 16-17. As soon as it was published, Utopia as a place became a touchstone for fantasy worlds - in 1532, for example, Rabelais sited Pantagruel's birth there - and consequently it has generated an enormous literature. Among others see Brain R. Goodey's "Mapping 'Utopia': A Comment on the Geography of Sir Thomas More" (Geographical Review 60(1), 1970, pp. 15-30); the lengthy summary in Alberto Manguel and Gianni Guadalupi's The Dictionary of Imaginary Places (Macmillan, New York, 1980), pp.387-393; and its lead-off position (following only Eden and Atlantis) in J. B. Post's An Atlas of Fantasy, new revised edition (Ballentine, New York, 1979). Because of permissions obstacles, Utopia's actually not in the first, 1973 edition of Post's Atlas. (Let me add that it's not easy to write a footnote with a straight face with Pantagruel tromping around in the background.)

(11) Scudery's map was engraved for the first, 1654 volume of Clelie by Francois Chauveau. A more elaborate version, engraved in 1659 and signed "Desreveaulx" appears as the frontispiece to James S. Munro's Mademoiselle de Scudery and the Carte de Tendre (Durham Modern Language Series, Durham, 1986). Peters, Mapping Discord, op. cit., notes that Scudery's map "generated a remarkable vogue for allegorical cartography that began in the 1650s, lasted throughout the rest of the century, and intersected with several of the period's most important cultural conflicts," p. 23.

(12) Schlaraffenland is a cockaigne, a land of milk-and-honey. Schnebelin, a German military commander, wrote about Schlaraffenland in his satire, Erklarung der Wunder-seltzamen Land-Charten Utopiae, first published in Nuremberg in 1694. Homann, a well-known Nurenberg publisher of atlases, may have made his map of Schlaraffenland as early as 1694, and Schnebelin may have had the map in front of him as he wrote. On this point see Franz Reitinger's Johann Andreas Schnebelin's Erklarung der Wunderseltzsamen Land-Charten Utopiae (Verlag Rockstuhl, Bad Langensalza, 2004), pp. 296 ff and 334 ff. More generally see Reitinger's, "Mapping Relationship: Allegory, Gender, and the Cartographical Image in Eighteenth-Century France and England" (Imago Mundi 51, 1999, pp.106-130), which, despite the title deals with the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries. On cockaigne in general see Herman Pleij's exhaustive Dreaming of Cockaigne: Medieval Fantasies of the Perfect Life (Columbia University Press, New York, 2001).

(13) The map is best known from its 1745 printing but copies are extant from 1720. See Giuliana Bruno's Atlas of Emotion: Journeys in Art, Architecture, and Film (Verso, London, 2007), pp. 230-231. Bruno also covers some of the ground plowed by Peters, op. cit.

(14) My first English edition of the Travels into Several Remote Nations of the WORLD, by Captain Lemuel Gulliver [Jonathan Swift], London, was printed in 1726 for Benj.[amin] Motte, at the Middle-Temple Gate, Fleet Street.

(15) Treasure Island may have been inspired by a map of an imaginary island created by Stevenson's young stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, who would recall that, "... busy with a box of paints I happened to be tinting a map of an island I had drawn. Stevenson came in as I was finishing it, and with his affectionate interest in everything I was doing, leaned over my shoulder, and was soon elaborating the map and naming it. 1 shall never forget the thrill of Skeleton Island, Spyglass Hill, nor the heart-stirring climax of the three red crosses! And the greater climax still when he wrote down the words 'Treasure Island' at the top right-hand corner! And he seemed to know so much about it too the pirates, the buried treasure, the man who had been marooned on the island ... 'Oh, for a story about it,' I exclaimed, in a heaven of enchantment," in response to which Stevenson began writing, and reading aloud to his family, the opening pages of Treasure Island. At least that's Osbourne's memory. Stevenson claims it was not Osbourne's but his own map that prompted the story, though he acknowledges that they were Osbourne's water colors, and that he often joined his step-son at his easel: "On one of these occasions, I made the map of an island," going on to detail the role of his map in creating Treasure Island in his essay, "My First Book." ("The map was the chief part of my plot," he writes.) In any case, this original map was lost by the publisher and Stevenson had to draft another, the one that appeared in the 1883 edition. See Emma Lesley's introduction to her edition of Treasure Island (Oxford, New York, 1998), pp. vii-viii, for Osbourne's recollections, and pp. 192-200 for Stevenson's essay, Stevenson's very interesting essay.

(16) See Katharine Harmon's, You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Imagination (Princeton Architectural Press, New York, 2004), where her acknowledgment map, "The River of Gratitude," is on pp. 190-191; and Louise van Swaaij and Jean Klare, The Atlas of Experience (Bloomsbury, New York, 2000). Inserted into their book is a fold-out map of the "World of Experience."

(17) See Arthur R. Chandler's E. H. Shepard: The Man Who Drew Pooh (Methuen, London, 2003), the endpapers of which are decorated with Shepard's map of Guilford.

(18) I touched on the evolution of these maps in the original edition of The Power of Maps, pp. 30-31, but they're responsible for a large literature all their own.

(19) As of mid-2007, World of Warcraft alone had 9,000,000 players worldwide. Brady Games has published a 200-page World of War Craft Atlas. There are similar compendia for each of the big games, wall maps, poster maps. Many of these are little more than printed screenshots, but others have been recreated for print. Victor Technologies produced a particularly elaborate Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Forgotten Realms: Interactive Atlas, and you should see the foldout map of Liberty City that comes with Grand Theft Auto IV (Rockstar Games). But there really is no end to this stuff.

(20) Michael Hosking, Marvel Atlas #1, Marvel Publishing, New York, 2007, and Marvel Atlas #2 (2008). Wayne Mann brought these to my attention.

(21) Hoch's Schnitt mit dem Kiichenmesser Dada durch die Letzte Weimarer Bierbauchkulturepoche Deutschlands (c. 1919-1920) is big for a photomontage, 44 7/8" x 35 7/16". It's owned by the National Gallery, Berlin. On Hoch see Peter Boswell et al., The Photomontages of Hannah Hoch, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, 1996; and Maud Lavin, Cut with the Kitchen Knife: The Weimar Photomontages of Hannah Hoch, Yale University Press, New Haven, 1993. The de Chirico is owned by the Tate.

(22) There is no reason to believe that Picasso, Gris, Severini or another early Cubist didn't use map fragments in some yet to be noticed piece, which could push map art's beginning back to 1913-1914 or so, with Malevich and Tatlin mining similar veins in Russia; and as the decade waned, with Rodchenko and Klustis making actual photomontages. For a good introduction to this ferment see the opening chapters of Taylor's Collage, op. Cit.

(23) Matthew Josephson, Life Among the Surrealists, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York, 1962, p. 177.

(24) Le monde au temps des Surrealists, op. citpublished as a double-page spread in a special issue, Le Surrealisme en 1929, of the Brussels journal, Varietes, June 1929, pp. 26-27. This issue of Varietes was reprinted in 1994 in the Collection Fac-Simile from Didier Devillez Editeur, Brussels. Incidentally, in my "Map Art" (Cartographic Perspectives, Number 53, Winter 2006, 5-14) I claimed that the map was published without a neatline, as indeed Patrick Waldberg reproduced it in his Surrealism (Thames and Hudson, London, 1965, p. 24) and as I reproduced it the original edition of this book (p. 183). I was wrong. The map in Varietes very much had a neatline.

(25) I originally advanced this argument in Denis Wood, "A Map Is an Image Proclaiming Its Objective Neutrality: A Response to Mark Denil," in Cartographic Perspectives 56, Winter 2007, pp. 4-16.

(26) Andre Breton and Louis Aragon were also involved.

(27) Eluard, his wife Gala, and Ernst comprised a menage a trois, and Eluard's trip had been an attempt to resolve, or at least sort out, what was going on. Eluard had taken off for the Far East, Ernst and Gala followed together, and they all met in Saigon. There they fell apart and the Eluards proceeded home together, while Ernst stayed to explore Angkor Wat. Ultimately Gala was to desert Eluard for Dali, while Eluard and Ernst remained friends. There was no perspective from which this trip was trivial. For the whole story, see McNab, Ghost Ships, op. cit.

(28) This map, Les Cinq Parties du Monde, Planisphere, Comprenant toutes les Possessions Coloniales, A Taride Editeur, 18-20 Boulevard St. Denis, Paris, with Eluard's route marked by himself in ink, is currently in the possession of the Musee d'art et d'historie, in Saint-Denis (Paris). While the conclusion that Eluard may have authored Le monde au temps des Surrealists is mine, the grounds for thinking so are all to be found in McNab, op. cit. McNab reproduces Les Cinq Parties on p. 58, and Le monde au temps des Surrealists on p. 211, once again without the neatline.

(29) The description is Robert Storr's in "Past Imperfect, Present Conditional," in Werner Spies and Sabine Rewald, eds., Max Ernst: A Retrospective, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2005, pp. 5165, the quotation on p. 62. The amazing painting, rarely reproduced, appears in color on p. 69. Bigger images can be seen online.

(30) In his contribution to the Spies and Rewald retrospective, op. cit., "Max Ernst in America," pp. 66-79, Spies himself says that the painting, "suggests how the coming disaster will change the face of the European continent" (p. 69).

(31) In Edward Quinn's Max Ernst (New York Graphic Society, New York, 1977) where the painting is misdated to 1934 U. M. Schneede is quoted as saying, "In the year of Hitler's takeover of power came the first version of Europe After the Rain. The continent is deformed, laid waste, all traces of civilization are wiped out. What remains after the destruction is scarcely identifiable. When Joyce saw the picture, he found a play on words which acts as a verbal equivalent: 'Europe - Puree Pyorrhee,"' p. 201.

(32) Le Jardin de la France is also widely reproduced, but both it and Configuration No. 16 can be found in Edward Quinn, op cit., pp. 332-333 and 421.

(33) La Casamiento de Buster Keaton (The Wedding of Buster Keaton) is dated November 1925 in Ian Gibson et al, Salvador Dali: the Early Years (South Bank Center, London, 1994) where it appears on p. 124. The piece consists of two sheets of paper, with elements of the solar system on the first, and map fragments the Sea of Japan, Greece - on the second, together with a diagram of sea breezes. The indications are that, except for newspaper clippings related to Keaton, all the elements came from a geography text. Apparently the collage accompanied a letter to Federico Garcia Lorca, and it seems that Dali wanted to include it in the Book of Putrefaction he and Lorca had planned to publish (see page 137). Dali opposed putrefaction and astronomy. See also Dalia Varanka's "Interpreting Map Art with a Perspective Learned from J. M. Blaut," for an alternative interpretation.

(34) With two exceptions these are all reproduced in the lovely Joseph Cornell: Shadowplay Eterniday, with essays by Lynda Roscoe Hartigan and others (Thames and Hudson, London, 2003). Soap Bubble Set, 1936 (actually Untitled (Soap Bubble Set), c. 1936), is reproduced in Ecke Bonk et al., Joseph Cornell/Marcel Duchamp in resonance, The Menil Collection/Philadelphia Museum of Art, Houston/Philadelphia, 1998, p. 171. Whenever it was made, it was exhibited at The Museum of Modern Art in the important Fantastic Art, Dada, Surrealism show of 1936. Object (Roses des Vents), 1942-53, is reproduced in Kynaston McShine, ed., Joseph Cornell, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1980, plate XVII.

(35) See Bonk et al., op. cit., pp. 145-146, where the Allegorie de genre proper - if I can call it that - is accompanied by variants in Joseph Cornell's Duchamp Dossier, as well as by a preliminary piece in the version of the Boite-en-valise (Series A, XI/XX) that was initially owned by Orin Raphael (see the note under 1944 [Spring] on page 287 of the chronology). Cornell himself probably assembled this copy of the Boite.

(36) This is also often reproduced. See Robert Storr, Mapping, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1994, p. 9. The date of 1934 given in Harmon, op. cit., on p. 133 is incorrect. Torres-Garcia has dated it himself, 43, just to the right of his initials in the lower left of the drawing.

(37) Several pages from this metagraphy are illustrated in Jean-Paul Curtay's Letterism and Hypergraphics: The Unknown Avant-Garde, 1945-1985, Franklin Furnace, New York, 1985, unpaginated, but like halfway through.

(38) Note that I've made no reference to the maps of John Held, Jr., Saul Steinberg, Seymour Chwast, and others working in the tradition of magazine and advertising illustration, despite ardent admiration and inner doubts. The New Yorker published a gorgeous portfolio of Steinberg's maps in its February 21 & 28, 2000, issue, pp. 216-223. I'm also an admirer of the maps of Maaira Kalman and Rick Meyerowitz whose post-9/11 map of the "Stans" is already a showercurtain icon. Their more recent The New York City Sub Culinary Map is another laugh riot (The New Yorker, September 6, 2004, pp. 142-143). I'll try to justify this exclusion more meaningfully in what follows.

(39) A map composed of collaged fragments of a map of the United States and another of Europe lies at the heart of Rauschenberg's Small Rebus (1956). See the treatment on pp. 52-53 - which includes a reproduction of the piece and a detail of the map - in Thomas Crow's "Southern Boys Go to Europe: Rauschenberg, Twombly, and Johns in the 1950s," in Stephanie Barron and Lynn Zelevansky, eds ..Jasper Johns to Jeff Koons: Four Decades of Art from the Broad Collections, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Los Angeles, 2001. It also seems likely that Rauschenberg gave Johns the map that led to Johns' map paintings. For example, see the recent article by Calvin Tomkins, "Everything in Sight: Robert Rauschenberg's New Life," The New Yorker, May 23, 2005, pp. 68-77, especially the quotation from Johns on p. 75.

(40) The Johns literature is also enormous. When the image is famous (and the Map paintings are very famous], and it is in one or another of the map show catalogues, I'm just going to note its location in the catalogue, in this case, for Map, 1963, Storr, op. cit., p. 25. Storr also reproduces a preliminary drawing for the Expo mural on p. 8. Storr's Map is a later map painting, grayer than the bright Map, 1961, though not as gray as Map, 1962. All three, plus the map based on the Fuller (Map (Based on Buckminster Fuller's Dymaxion Air Ocean World), 1967-1971], are reproduced in Kirk Varnedoe, Jasper Johns: A Retrospective, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1996, which also includes shots of Johns working on the Fuller, and as it was installed in Montreal.

(41) For the Oldenberg, see Storr, op. cit., p. 46; for Fahlstrom's World Map see Harmon, op. cit., pp. 112-113, for Garden, Storr, p. 29. There's a substantial monographic literature on both these guys.

(42) For a discussion of Ono's Map Piece in the context of Conceptualist and Situationist mapmaking, see Wollen, op. cit., pp. 42-43.

(43) Stephen Bann has written about this practice, as an art practice, in a piece about "Land Art"; and while mostly about the distinctive practices of Richard Long and Hamish Fulton, Bann also writes about those of De Maria and Oppenheim, and so the rest by implication. See Bann's "The Map as Index of the Real: Land Art and the Authentication of Travel," Imago Mundi 46, 1994, pp. 9-18; and as substantially excerpted in Jeffrey Kastner and Brian Wallis, Land and Environmental Art (Phaidon, London, 1998], pp. 243-244.

(44) All the earthworks artists made rafts of maps. In Storr, there are examples by Holt (on p. 39], Smithson (on p. 49], and Piper (on p. 51). See, among others, Lucy Lippard, Overlay: Contemporary Art and the Art of Prehistory (Pantheon, New York, 1983), especially the chapter "Time and Again: Maps and Places and Journeys," pp. 121-158 (maps by Richard Long, Smithson, Patricia Johanson, and Hera). For cool color pictures of the work itself, see John Beardsley's Earthworks and Beyond (Abbeville, New York, 1984) (plus on p. 38 there's a reproduction of one of James Turrell's meticulous maps). The Gates Map, which carries a mini-history of Christo and Jeanne-Claude's work, as well as reproductions of numerous Christo drawings related to The Gates, bears the Central Park Conservancy logo, but was copyright 2004 by United Arts Group.

(45) For Graves' lithographs, see Harmon, p. 71; Storr reproduces one of Graves' drawings, p. 40. This work was heavily covered in the periodical press. Also see the article on Graves cited in the next footnote, which treats the paintings and sculpture in a maps and mapping context. For the Hiller drawings, see Harmon, pp. 40-41, but for a photograph of the dreamers in their sleeping bags among the fairy circles, see Lippard, p. 161. For LeWitt, Storr, p. 43. Again, all these artists are subjects of monographic review.

(46) Phaidon Conceptual Art, p. 130.

(47) Wollen, book, p. 36.

(48) Ibid.

(49) Holubizky

(50) Cerizza

(51) T&H Long book, pp. 38 (as well one a few pages earlier) and, "Notes on Maps 1994," p. 84

(52) Though all I know about these shows I read in Peter Frank's catalogue for his 1981 show (see below).

(53) There were two parts to this exhibition, an historical selection from the collection of the American Geographical Society, and then the modern art. An extensively illustrated catalogue was promised in a handout, but I can't locate a copy. WorldCat catalogues the title Cartography: An Historical Selection of Maps, Globes, and Atlas: 1452-1978 (Sheboygan, 1980) - but lists no holdings.

(54) The four artists were Jasper Johns, Nancy Graves, Roger Welch, and Richard Long. Smith also wrote the catalogue essay.

(55) At the time Independent Curators Incorporated. Sixty-seven artists were represented, including many in the map art pantheon. The show toured (Colorado Art Galleries, Boulder; Arkansas Art Center, Little Rock; Huntington Art Gallery, University of Texas, Austin; Toledo Museum of Art) and came with a valuable little catalogue, Mapped Art: Charts, Routes, Regions (ICI, New York, 1981).

(56) Apparently there was a gallery brochure which I haven't been able to see.

(57) Storr, op. cit., p. 23. Unbeknownst to me, while I was writing my map art piece for Cartographic Perspectives, the late Denis Cosgrove was writing "Maps, Mapping, Modernity: Art and Cartography in the Twentieth Century" (Imago Mundi 57(1), 2005).

(58) Accompanied by a full-color catalogue that folded up like a map. I thank Greg Knight for providing me with a copy.

(59) Need I say there was no catalogue?

(60) Sayaka Akiyama is a Japanese artist who exhibits internationally; Joshua Neustein is an Israeli/American artist who exhibits internationally; Greg Colson has been exhibiting his map constructions since the late 1980s; Cusick uses maps to make collagepaintings ... of Robert Moses, Sitting Bull; Natsios posts her work to a brilliant website (, and more about her work in the next chapter), Dykhuis is a Canadian who exhibits nationally. Examples of most of this work can be found in Harmon, Map as Art, op. cit.

(61) Janet Abrams and Peter Hall, eds., Else/Where: Mapping/New Cartographies of Networks and Territories (University of Minnesota Design Institute, Minneapolis, 2006) has so much more than map art in it, yet so much of what is treated is or overlaps map art. Pinder's "Cartographies Unbound" reviews Elsewhere: Mapping, You Are Here (eee below), John Pickles' A History of Spaces, and the special Cartographic Perspectives issue on map art in Cultural Geographies 14(3), 2007, pp. 453-462.

(62) Harmon, You Are Here, op. cit., and Harmon, Map as Art, op. cit. Both are handsome books, the latter gorgeous. Kitty has been a valuable resource.

(63) Denis Wood, compiler, "Catalogue of Maps Artists," Cartographic Perspectives 53, Winter 2006, pp. 61-67. The omissions, even at the time, were egregious. The catalogue needs to go on line as a wiki.

(64) Woodward, Art and Cartography, op. cit., especially his introduction, and particularly pp. 4-5; Cosgrove, "Maps, Mapping, Modernity: Art and Cartography in the Twentieth Century," op. cit.

(65) Dalie E. Varanka, An Analysis of Contemporary Map-like Art, Master's thesis, University of Illinois at Chicago, 1987.

(66) Marie Cieri, Irresolvable Geographies, Doctoral dissertation, Rutgers University, 2004; James Alan Ketchum, Journey to the Surface of the Earth: The Geoaesthetic Trace and the Production of Alternative Geographical Knowledge, Doctoral dissertation, Syracuse University, 2005.

(67) Admittedly thirty years after artscanada did!

(68) From the barely paginated advertising pages up front in the February, 2006, issue of Art in America. The entire The Church of Sharpie series was published in 2005 as a 16 Vz' x 2" book (opens to 33" x 22"), The Church of Sharpie, by Galeria Joan Prats (in Barcelona) and greengrassi (in London). The series, shown in New York, London, Barcelona, and elsewhere can be downloaded for free at Aleksandra Mir's website (where you can also see more of her map art, Switzerland and Other Islands, for instance).

(69) See the full-page Sotheby's auction announcement, Art in America, March 2006, p. 39. The prices come from "Chinese Contemporary Art Prices Skyrocket," Art in America, May 2006, p. 45. Weiwei has made a number of large map pieces.
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Author:Wood, Denis
Publication:Espaco e Curtura
Date:Jul 1, 2014
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