www.formfollowsbehavior.

com, posted by Christian Marc Schmidt

Since geographic information systems have become mainstream, maps are everywhere, and not just on our
computers, but on our phones and in our cars. We are now literally surrounded by maps. Yet, despite so much
exposure, I have not lost interest in mapping as an art. On the contrary—I am more than ever drawn to maps
which have a distinct perspective. To me, the most powerful maps are those which convey identity, or—in the case
of geographic maps—a sense of place.

Maps are complex supersigns. So Denis Wood, author of The Power of Maps. In a defined space, they describe
an idea, whether a place, a process or a chronology. Mapping is about establishing context, by depicting
relationships between elements. It is in the representation of these relationships where identity is formed—identity,
as the essence of the thing which is being described. It is always present, whether deliberately or not. Ideally, of
course, identity would be considered.

Like typography, maps can be read at various scales—both macro and micro. Recently, Edward Tufte wrote about
the power of images as logos when read at a macro scale. Maps work the same way. At a micro scale, maps are
functional information carriers. At a macro scale, maps may become iconic, and as icons, they are metaphoric
signifiers. Orientation comes from recognition of place, and geographic maps, as signifiers of place, help form
recognition through identity. What comprises identity is a similar question to what makes places unique: it is never
a single thing, but the combination of many elements that form a whole.

There is a balance. Massimo Vignelli’s subway map is a well-known example of a map which carried a strong
identity. For a short time, it became an icon for the city of New York. Yet it compromised usability by being too
stylized. But it not only had a strong personality, it was also the embodiment of a modernist philosophy, a
perspective which all but defined 1970s New York.

Mapping is an art, analogous to other art forms. It can be used to describe reality or fiction, process or theory, and
in doing so assert a perspective. Any map is inherently biased. The point at which it becomes art is when that bias
is recognized, and applied to add conscious meaning—in the case of the geographic map, to not only reflect
reality, but to convey an idealized perception of a place.

November 10th, 2007 - “The relationship between mapping and data visualization”

The relationship between mapping and data visualization is somewhat ambiguous and generally ill-defined. In
most cases, the two concepts are inextricably linked, and the terms mapping and visualizing are often used
interchangeably. Yet, after some reflection it seems apparent that the two concepts are indeed distinct, that there
are differences, and defining both in relation to each-other seems somehow imperative to understanding the
territory.

The first incentive may be to think of mapping as a particular form of data visualization—tied to geography, and as
such mapping data points in spatial proximity to one-another. Yet, when we speak of mapping, it is quickly
apparent that geography is not the only possible organizing principle, and as such the use of the word ‘mapping’
suggests a larger concept.

In the introduction of Else/Where: Mapping, Janet Abrams and Peter Hall write that there are three types of space
that can be conceivably mapped, from information space (finding patterns in large quantities of data), to physical
space (orienting the body to the physical environment), to social space (representing relationships between
people). Broadly speaking, therefore, mapping can be considered a process that determines how objects, or
entities, are related to each-other by representing them on a (conceptual) field.

Lev Manovich considers visualization a subset of mapping. For Manovich, mapping is the translation from one
form of representation to another. In The Anti-Sublime Ideal in Data Art, he uses the term data visualization for the
mapping of abstract data that does not inherently have a visual representation. “By representing all data using the
same numerical code, computers make it easy to map one representation into another: grayscale image into 3D
surface, a sound wave into an image (think of visualizers in music players such as iTunes), and so on.
Visualization then can be thought of as a particular subset of mapping in which a data set is mapped into an
image.” (Manovich, The Anti-Sublime Ideal in Data Art). He describes data visualization as the “mapping of data
into the visual domain.” In other words, if mapping typically translates physical entities into an image, data
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visualization translates (or maps) abstract data into an image.

James Corner presents another definition of mapping in “The Agency of Mapping.” Quoting Deleuze and Guattari,
Corner suggests that one must separate a map from a tracing. A tracing is simply a reflection of a real situation or
process, and as such does not present a point of view. A map, on the other hand, has agency: it is the product of a
creative activity that suggests new narratives and conceptual constructs by which to better understand the topic
under consideration. “Mappings have agency because of the double-sided characteristic of all maps. First, their
surfaces are directly analogous to actual ground conditions; as horizontal planes, they record the surface of the
earth as direct impressions. [...] By contrast, the other side of this analogous characteristic is the inevitable
abstractness of maps, the result of selection, omission, isolation, distance and codification.” (Corner, The Agency
of Mapping”).

This idea is reiterated in episode 110 of “This American Life, Mapping,” which states that maps focus on a single
topic at a time—ignoring all other information that is not relevant. This is precisely the omission or selection that
Corner is referring to, that gives mapping its agency. The next question, however, becomes whether tracings—in
the way that they are defined by Corner and Deleuze—can in fact exist, as they are necessarily the product of
human agency of some kind. But this is perhaps the critical distinction: mapping involves a particular agenda, a
political motive, whereas tracings are created without a particular motive in mind. It is a subtle yet powerful
distinction. This quote from J. B. Harley seems relevant: “‘Far from holding up a simple mirror of nature that is true
of false, maps redescribe the world—like any other document—in terms of relations of power and of cultural
practices, preferences, and priorities’” (Janet Abrams and Peter Hall, Else/Where: Mapping).

Conclusively, to follow Corner’s argumentation, it seems that the distinction between mapping and data
visualization may hinge on the understanding of mapping as a process with agency. Visualization, on the other
hand, is a neutral term, expressing neither agency nor its antonym, structure. And while its purpose is defined as
generating insight and drawing conclusions, it does not imply a particular political motive. As such, visualization
could be considered the superordinate concept, contradicting Manovich’s idea of it being a subset of mapping.
While ultimately it might be considered a question of semantics, regarding mapping as a process with agency
offers a more nuanced approach to understanding the relationship between the two concepts.

November 11th, 2008 - “Mapping—symbolism or realism?”

Mapping seems to float between two poles—symbolism and realism, or abstraction and dimensionality—as the
attempt is made to either (with increasing accuracy) simulate a landscape or environment, or interpret it as a sign
or composite of signs. At first glance, the former could be considered the predominant direction—technology
leading the way in the gradual displacement of the latter. However, not only are both vectors alive and well:
realism has been an ongoing pursuit in mapping as long as symbolism, and symbolism is equally seeing a new
resurgence due to technological developments.

Another analogy might entail viewing mapping as either a science or an art—science, as the pursuit of knowledge,
or art, as the pursuit of expression or the interpretation of experience. The “scientific” approach would more readily
appear to relate to realism, while the “artistic” approach would appear to call for symbolism. Yet here, too, the
boundaries are blurred: symbolism is often a better communication method than realism, and hence may more
successfully further an understanding of the subject matter, while realism is often used as an expressive medium.
So, what remains is the existence of these two vectors, between both of which mapping is situated. The following
work offers a critique.

Richard Galpin creates abstraction from photorealism, by removing elements of photographs to reveal patterns
inherent within the source image. Beginning with realism, his approach of subtraction creates a tracing from a
photographic image, a kind of structural map to the original image, rooted in an inherently personal symbolism with
visceral and universal communication value.

Landscape architect Hajime Ishikawa (related article on PingMag) maps the urban environment of Tokyo. His
studies are reflections of both serendipity and symbolism. His GPS drawings within the city, while not an entirely
new idea, reflect a Situationist curiousity about the mundane and familiar city environment. He says, mapping is “a
kind of language — you understand where you are in this sort of diagram. Though no map can picture the real
space and the real experience, you still understand where you are…” Ishikawa’s tracing of his route from his home
to his office has personal significance and a kind of individual symbolism, while the animal drawing evokes
questions of familiarity with and a offers a change of perspective of the the Tokyo streetscape.