Tis the season…so another MapCarte entry that looks at the design of a toy based on a map. Sometimes the simplest ideas turn out to be the best and producing a globe made as a pillow has been a commercial hit for the designers and manufacturers of Hugg-a-Planet. The design is fun, useful and memorable as the central message is we can wrap our arms around the world and give it a hug. It’s an object that supports all sorts of play activities in young children and the map itself is designed to be colourful and attractive. This doesn’t need perfect cartography…just the sense of the shape of the world that children can get to grips with, literally.
Of course, it has a secondary purpose as an educational aid and allows children to begin to learn about geography by using the hugg-a-planet to show where countries and places are. Beyond childhood, hugg-a-planet has become somewhat iconic as a metaphor for global peace. It resonates with those seeking to explore enviromentalism and as pleasing object to have lying around as a cushion with meaning.
It’s a fun toy but one which has been used and shared by Presidents as well as global business and political leaders and televison, movie and musical celebrities. It’s even found its way onto the International Space Station where it began it’s orbit in 2009.
You can find out more about Hugg-a-Planet at the website here.
Merry Christmas map geeks! What better way to celebrate the day than to highlight the use of maps and cartography in toys. Here, not just the earliest map used in a jigsaw but arguably also one of the very first jigsaws. John Spilsbury was an apprentice to Thomas Jefferys, Rotal Geographer to King George III, and believed to be the first commercial manufacturer of the jigsaw puzzle. His earliest jigsaws were referred to as ‘dissected maps’ and this set a trend in jigsaws for many years to come. Indeed, you can still find maps as a common theme in modern jigsaws.
The puzzles were initially produced to be aids in geography teaching. Countries were dissected along national boundaries so piecing the puzzle together allowed children to learn how the different countries connected to one another. Beyond the land, Spilsbury continued the dissection along lines of latitude and longitude.
A great use of maps. A brilliant educational aid and also an early indicator of the commercial value of using maps as a medium for a non-cartographic product. Spilsbury’s dissected puzzles were a commercial success. Spilsbury went on to create many such puzzles and created them in eight themes: the World, Europe, Asia, Africa, America, England and Wales, Ireland and Scotland.
Selection and omission is a key cartographic requirement. We make many decisions about the content of the map. One of the more dramatic consequences of this process is omission of all but a single geographic feature and this map of the River Nile from the late 1800s illustrates the principle perfectly. The whole river itself is over 4,000 miles in length and 2 miles in width at it’s widest. It passes through 11 different countries, though this map only illustrates the portion from Khartoum (where the Blue and White Nile meet) to the coast at Cairo.
General reference maps simply wouldn’t suit the purpose of highlighting the settlements and places along a river. The scale wouldn’t allow it and the amount of white space would make the balance of the map inappropriate. You’d be forced into adding all sorts of other topographic detail simply to fill space.
Instead, as a supplement to The Graphic, this map focuses on just the river. It becomes a linear cartogram with some segments straightened and a lack of almost all other topographic detail except for places that directly border the river itself. It’s akin to some of the classic early strip maps used to map roads and it translates well to a river. The river becomes the central anchor to the two page spread and around it are beautifully illustrated vignettes – panoramic scenes of the towns, villages and natural scenery along the river.
Maps can omit so much and still be perfectly suited to telling the story of the form itself. Here, the river and only the river. It makes perfect sense to omit all else.
As far as cartographic curiosities go, the creation of a large concrete scale model of Scotland has to be one of the most bizarre. All the more when you appreciate it was built by a Polish war veteran. The Great Polish Map of Scotland, or Mapa Scotland) measures 50m by 40m and is located in the grounds of Barony Castle Hotel in the village of Eddleston in Scotland. It was constructed between 1974 and 1979 and is arguably the world’s largest terrain model…which makes it’s design somewhat impressive.
The map was conceived by General Maczek and Polish companions as a reminder of their part in the defence of Scotland and of Scotlands wartime hospitality during World War II. Maczek had a love of geography and so a giant relief model. The hotel had been used as a base for Polish forces during the war and some years later another Polish war veteran, Jan Tomasik, became owner and his friend, Maczek, stayed there subsequently. Tomasik had by this time set about restoring some of the water features in the grounds and he and Maczek set about creating the giant map.
There probably aren’t many maps made entirely out of concrete and which have water channels and pumps to surround it with fresh sea water. This was a monument on a monumental scale but which took Polish workers only a few weeks to build. The map is at a scale of 1:10,000 and has a 5x vertical exaggeration in line with the standard adopted by allied forces in WWII.
The map has fallen into disrepair though coupled with current owners De Vere hotels, the map is currently undergoing a restoration. You can see more about the map at the web site here.
The Italian architect and surveyor Giambattista Nolli is perhaps best known for his epic ichnographic plan of Rome, known as the Nolli map. He began his exhaustive survey in 1736 and eventually engraved and published the map in 1748 across twelve sheets measuring 176cm by 208cm when pieced together. The map was effectively commissioned by Pope Benedict XIV as a way to map and subsequently demarcate Rome into 14 districts. The detail of the map reflected the architectural achievements of Rome and of the Papacy itself of the time.
The map is a phenomenal achievement of technical work and of detail and precision. It also incorporates some interesting design choices, not least the orientation of east to magnetic north to reflect the use of the compass to determine bearings in relation to the city’s layout. In terms of depiction, the map illustrates the importance of figure-ground in cartographic design. Nolli followed a previous work, the Bufalini map of 1551, which shaded buildings and other features in dark while ensuring open spaces were white. Additionally, he maps the various colonnades of important public spaces such as St. Peter’s Square in black, almost in the style of an architectural blueprint.
While the map undoubtedly has historical significance both in the mapping of Rome and also as a scientific and technical achievement, the contribution to cartography is also hugely important. The dark grey hachuring for the buildings highlighted the importance of colour, depth, contrast and texture in defining visual contrast. Nolli used black to indicate monuments and white outlines to show the locations of ancient monuments that no longer exist. S-shaped curves were used to denote contours and slopes which was before contours were used more commonly to illustrate elevation. A waterlining effect was used as a vignette for the river and various symbols used to show locations of other features with qualitative differences indicated through design (e.g. open and closed drains). The use of precise illustrative symbols was rare in maps of the time.
You can read more about the Nolli map, and view an online archived version, at the Interactive Nolli Map website here.
Back to the use of maps as a framework for artistic expression with Richter’s Townscapes. Here, artist Richter has created a range of paintings that are based on oblique views of different towns and cities. He approaches each work from a different perspective and experiments with scale that mimics the approach a cartographer takes in determining how much to generalize a feature.
For some paintings, the scale is smaller and the view is from a higher elevation and so the buildings take on a rather abstract form, perhaps just the general shape and the inclusion of major features. Examples that are at a larger scale inevitably include more of the building’s detail. That said, the large scale paintings are perhaps less easy to recognise due to the larger size of shapes. Because the paintings are all in shades of grey we tend to see large indistinct blocks of grey which are not necessarily immediately seen as buildings. Of course, standing back from the paintings gives us a different perspective, the image occupies a smaller form and we tend to see the images more clearly. At distance they begin to look like monochrome oblique aerial photographs.
Richter also experiments with different brushstrokes and textures, going from very fluid approaches to strongly geometric. As a collection, they give us a fascinating way to reflect on the urban form and, perhaps, show us a little of the artistry in how we approach the task of generalization as part of cartographic design. Scale, form, texture and viewing distance all strongly modify the viewing experience. These are key processes in understanding cartographic design.
You can view more of Richter’s Townscapes at his web site here.
Click image to view the web map.
Melbourne’s Urban Forest Visual by OOM Creative is simply conceived and well built. There’s nothing pretentious or bloated about the map and it’s clean and elegant approach to mapping every tree in the city of Melbourne is a template for the use of modern web maps. The web site houses the embeded map so there’s no going to a separate site. The User interface is uncluttered and intuitive. The overall design builds on a limited but effective colour palette that repeats across the map and the site itself. The use of a dark basemap and bright colours creates a pleasing contrast between background and detail.
The map shows the location of every tree recorded by a census and categorises them by genus using different shapes. Almost immediately, this simple act of making the effort to categorise point data and show them differently takes this web map further than many similar maps that might just show the presence of a phenomena or not. Binary web maps are common (things exist and are shown, or they don’t). OOM Creative have thought cartographically about the work. Further, the symbols are coloured to indicate the remaining lifespan of the tree. Immediately, you can see where streets are populated with the same genus of tree creating a particular uniform scene, or perhaps where their is a rich variety. It’s easy to spot the botanical gardens! It’s also easy to see the spatial pattern of the health of trees and where resources perhaps need to be targeted for remediation or replanting in the coming years.
You can modify the map view to focus on the detail at a precinct level and also select a subset of the data to show trees by age or by use. The map forms part of a larger story about the Melbourne canopy and conservation efforts. It’s an educational web site of which the map forms a core component. Perhaps the most endearing aspect of the map is, in addition to clicking on each tree to reveal information, you can ’email a tree’. Designed as a way for people to report tree health, damage or other information, it has also been used as a simple way of communication to express to a tree how important it has been, or any range of other eccentric human reactions. In this sense the map provides a fascinating way for people to interact with their environment in an emotional way.
You can see the web map as part of the Urban Forest Visual web site here.
Mapping multivariate statistical data is fraught with difficulties due to the problem of encoding multiple pieces of information into a coherent yet simple symbol design. The balance between making your data readable and understandable is harder, the more pieces of data you want to show. It’s also very easy to end up with symbol overload that easily translates to cognitive overload.
In 1973, Herman Chernoff an applied mathematician, published a paper in which he proposed the use of a human face to display multivariate data in the shape of the human face. The idea was simple – change the shape, size, placement and orientation of different facial features to encode different variables. The overall result changed the face and the facial expression which brought an overall sense to the combination of data. Chernoff argued that small changes can be seen in human faces due to our innate ability to recognise human faces and their subtle differences. They are extremely economical graphical structures in which
Of course, choosing how to reflect the data in different facial features is fundamental. Here. Eugene Turner creates what has become a well used example of the genre, though the use of Chernoff Faces has courted controversy and not seen a huge uptake largely due to difficulties in construction. The additional problem is in the way in which we automatically interpret the faces through our impression of emotion. Hence the crucial need to ensure your variables are mapped in a way that works rather than one which conveys the wrong emotional response. Turner does a good job of building a facial profile out of social conditions and ethnicity. It’s a simple map but one that characterises the spatial structure of socio-economic life in Los Angeles. It’s also a provocative and arresting image and one which is difficult to hide from.
Chernoff faces deserve a mention in any design related commentary because they are innovative. They’re hard to employ correctly but even if only a small proportion of our data can be effectively mapped using them, they’re still a useful tool in the cartographer’s design armoury.
Chernoff’s original paper can be downloaded here.
State topographic maps have a special relationship with the national landscape they are designed to symbolise and offer much more than a dry statement of facts and approach a kaleidoscopic fusion of art, science and culture. And far from being standardised, topographic mapping (especially in Europe) exhibits a wide diversity of cartographic styles, according to how the national landscape is to be used, valued, and preserved. As with any map, topographic maps are subject to the key decisions in mapmaking – choices over what to show and how to show it – and these choices can be slow to change. So what happens when a new country is born?
The central European nation-state of Slovenia achieved independence from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia on 26th June 1991, joined NATO and the EU in 2004, and in 2007 became the first former communist country to join the Eurozone. Following independence, Slovenia established a comprehensive topographic mapping programme, with the new 1:25,000 series (comprising 198 sheets) being the first to completely cover the state territory in 1999, followed by the 1:50,000 series (58 sheets) which was completed in 2005. The map shown here is the sheet from the 1:50,000 series that includes Triglav, 2864 m, the highest mountain in Slovenia and highest peak of the Julian Alps, situated in the north-west of the country.
The landscape of the new country was captured and defined using a new cartographic language. Under the old regime, topographic maps were available only to certain users, and omitted key aspects of the landscape such as caves and depressions – key features of the Karst landscape that covers much of the country. These features now take their rightful place in the landscapes of the new and fully accessible series of topographic maps. The extraordinarily rich symbology – with over 200 graphically distinctive symbols in the 1:50,000 series – is broader than any other employed by a European national mapping agency at this scale. Here, the language of cartography is in full bloom.
Click the image to view web map
Big data is one of those ill-defined buzzwords that is rarely used appropriately. It’s a fairly all-encompassing term that relates to a dataset that is so large, unwieldy and incomprehensible that it creates difficulties in terms of processing. For cartography, big data might be regarded as a dataset that creates difficulties for analysis in the sense of distilling it to something meaningful to map; or it might relate to the the visualization techniques we have to build to handle something that is problematic to display using traditional means. It’s debatable whether a million items is big enough to be called big data but it certainly creates big cartographic design problems. Paperscape attempts to resolve the problem by creating a map of nearly a million scientific papers.
The map is a constellation of symbols; small circles coloured by the type of category of scientific work the paper explores. Colours tend to occupy similar spaces and sit comfortably within the overall constellation. The broad category is labelled but the beauty of the map is when you zoom in there’s a progressive reveal of detail. Circles become larger and we see more labels and more symbols appear. Larger symbols indicate increased citation rates as a measure of the paper’s importance. You can switch the colours to represent age with newer papers appearing more saturated along a single hue colour scheme.
This is no dumb map though. Clicking the symbols gives you full bibliographic details and additional controls to create links to all other papers that are either referenced by or cited in the paper. It’s a novel way of representing a bibliographic database and does a great job of bringing a cartographic design solution to the representation of a million individual records and their complex interconnectivity.
It’s multiscale, easy to understand and interactive. It’s also well designed.
You can view Paperscape here.