On Maps

From Concrete to Abstract to Inspiration

I’ve been fascinated by maps from a small age. As a child, I would spend hours trying to draw the road map of Colombo. My grandfather subscribed to an annual report titled The Natural Resources of Sri Lanka, which contained all manner of maps about rivers, mountains, gem stones, crops and people, and I would trace the various depictions of the country onto pieces of paper.

And this fascination has continued into adulthood. While living in London, Harry Becks iconic Tube Map, was a constant preoccupation. While traveling on the underground, I would gaze at the maps on the opposite wall, memorising stations, and analysing interchangers.

But what makes a map a great map? Why are maps fascinating?

Maps represent the real world, which (by definition) is real, and concrete. But in representing the real world, maps simplify it; maps minimise the information of the concrete into an abstraction; maps reduce.

In this sense, maps are an incomplete, inaccurate, and imperfect representation of the real world. For example, the Tube Map does not capture the distance between tube stations. Bayswater and Lancaster Gate are a short walk from each other, but appear several stops apart.

But at the same time, and paradoxically, this reduction process also inspires. A human looking at the map is stimulated to think about the concrete behind the abstraction in new and creative ways. For example, when one looks at a Tube Map, you see all the intersections, junctions, and changes. A simple form of creativity is how easy it is to “create” trip. Hence, the reduction promotes expansion.

And of course, this pattern can be extended to all abstractions, from mathematics to art.