Nick Pannell wants the Ordnance Survey to change the route of the Abbot’s Way path through Dartmoor National Park in Devon, England. Pannell says his own research shows that medieval monks took a more northerly route between Buckfast and Tavistock, and that the path shown on OS maps since 1886 is wrong. The OS doesn’t dispute Pannell’s research, but says that the current route existed 130 years before the initial survey, and there are no currently existing paths along Pannell’s preferred route. This seems to be a case of the prescriptive vs. the descriptive: Pannell shows where the path used to be or ought to have been, the OS shows the current reality on the ground. Nor can OS change the map unless, per the article, Historic England changes the official route: it’s not OS’s call to make.
Mark Wallinger’s World Turned Upside Down, a 13-foot globe on the LSE campus with the South Pole on top, generated controversy (and vandalism) after its unveiling in 2019 for how it handled contested borders: it shows Lhasa as a capital, Taiwan as a separate country, and omitted Palestine. I mean, it’s on a university campus: controversy about such things was inevitable. Via Mappery; more at Atlas Obscura and Brilliant Maps.
Mappery also points to a 19th-century globular clock that shows the sun’s position at noon on the globe, which I find awfully intriguing, which is to say I want one.
The Library of Congress is changing how it stores its rare globes, replacing acrylic vitrines (heavy, bulky, and potentially off-gassing compounds that put the globes at risk) with archival cardboard cases, which are less sexy but more practical—we’re talking about storage, not display. I’m actually surprised that rare globes had essentially been stored in display cases.
I missed that a jigsaw puzzle version of Anton Thomas’s Wild World (previously) was released in January. The puzzle has 1,500 pieces and measures 39×20 inches when completed. Anton says that if you’re in the U.S. or Canada it’s best to order from the publisher’s website; it’s also listed on Amazon.
The Journal: “A 12ft by 11ft wool map of Ireland, which took four years of knitting and crocheting to complete, is in search of a new home to go on public display.”
A new contact page replaces the old contact, FAQ, link submission and review guidelines pages. Simpler and less repetitive. And instead of a contact form, there’s just an email address. So much spam was coming through the contact forms that all form results got sent to the spam folder: I’ve been missing legitimate messages. So we’ll try this instead.
I presently work with old Michelin maps dated from roughly 1920 to 1970. I use old French Michelin maps because I like their color and texture but also because for me, they symbolize the roads that various family members have taken to get to France. My maternal grandmother emigrated to France from Vietnam and my paternal grandfather emigrated to France from Kabylia (Northern Algeria). I myself moved to Washington D.C. from Paris in August, 2016.
I was also drawn to old French Michelin maps because I have been surrounded by objects like them since I was a child. Both my father and grandfather have stands in Lyon’s largest flea market and I spent long hours there as a child and adolescent. Many of the maps that I use come from Lyon’s flea markets and others throughout France.
My work presently consists of cutting portraits and other images into several maps. I chose my maps very carefully and try to integrate their geography, including lakes, rivers, oceans, roads, highways, parks and city centers into my images to highlight certain visual elements. Each of my pieces is made up of multiple maps which I cut out and layer on top of each other in between pieces of glass to create depth and texture.
It’s astonishingly well done. Bessaci’s maps often form images of animals, or people in motion; motorways intersect at locations on the body that evoke a circulatory system. The effect is even more dramatic in his anatomical works, where the map layers draw out hidden bones.
An exhibition of Bessaci’s work, Mapping the Soul, wrapped up last week at the Zenith Gallery in Washington, D.C. It can also be seen at Galerie Jamault in Paris.
Damien Saunder’s book about maps on record covers, Maps on Vinyl, got a writeup in the Guardian last week.
Some designs address global social or environmental issues. Others map the mind, imaginary places, feelings, worldviews—or, in the case of Robert Fripp and Brian Eno’s The Equatorial Stars, deep space.
Among Saunder’s personal favourites is a sleeve from the long-gone Iowa alt rock band House of Large Sizes, showing a cake whose icing is decorated with a map, with a chunk missing. “It’s a commentary on how we’re consuming the world piece by piece, almost without noticing,” says Saunder.
Another favourite cover comes from Belgian punk band Hetze: an illustration of a globe dangling by a thread from the forefinger of an elegant, long-nailed hand, by tattoo artist Florence Roman.
My hosting provider has announced that it will be retiring the announcement list feature on which The Map Room relies for its weekly email digest. Which means that at some point in the near future it will need to find a new home.
The best option, from a features and privacy standpoint, is probably Buttondown (which I already use for my personal newsletter). But adding The Map Room and its subscribers to my account will move me up the paid plan ladder, so this switch will cost me a bit (insert subtle reminder here that the Patreon exists). I don’t begrudge doing so: my email subscribers are an active and significant part of my audience (to the point where I sometimes wonder whether I should go email-first) so it’s worth doing that aspect of The Map Room properly. And I’ve been eyeing a move to Buttondown in any event; my hosting provider is just making it happen sooner rather than later.
Because email subscribers have properly opted in to the existing service, I can move subscriptions over seamlessly when the time comes. I’ll try to give a heads-up before that happens, though.
In this video, Paul Whitewick explores the strange case of Elkhams Grave, a name on the map that would normally refer to an old crossroad grave site—only it appears to be nowhere near a crossroad, parish boundary or other burial ground. It’s a place name with no apparent surviving evidence of the place named.
