International Journal of Cartography最新文献

{"title":"Map as biography: maps, memory, and landscape – thoughts on Ordnance Survey map, Sheet TR04, 1:25,000 Provisional Edition, Ashford","authors":"P. Vujaković","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1909415","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1909415","url":null,"abstract":"While walking across the rough pasture on the hills above Ashford, Kent (UK), I experienced a dramatic vision. The dull green grassland turned a solid flat bright yellow (Figure 1). It was over in an instance, like the shutter movement of an old fashion camera, but very real – as if triggered by a physical light stimulus – not as something in my ‘mind’s eye’. While not a case of synaesthesia, that phenomenon is the best way I can describe what happened. Synaesthesia is a neurological condition in which stimuli (e.g. reflected light) that usually affects one sense impacts on two or more others. Some synesthetes, for example, experience a ‘taste’ associated with a specific colour or word. Synaesthesia occurs when in normal circumstances a person might imagine a colour, but a synesthete will see it projected externally. For true synaesthesia the link is durable – this was not true for me, it has never happened again. A study of ‘colour-grapheme’ synesthetes indicates that pairings of letters with colours was traceable to childhood toys containing coloured letters (Witthoft & Winawer, 2013); the authors characterise this as ‘learned synaesthesia’. By the time I had my experience I had been using Land Utilisation Survey (LUS) maps (1930s) in local field teaching for decades (‘Weald of Kent & Hastings’ sheets 125 & 135). It seemed probable that the experience must have been stimulated by my familiarity with the LUS – the bright yellow I experienced represents ‘Heath, Moorland, Commons and rough pasture’. Clearly, maps can be a significant element in an immersive relationship with place (Vujakovic & Hills, 2017), not just as a navigation aid and store of spatial information but as an artefact that affords constant re-reading of, and re-engagement with a familiar milieu. Topographic maps (e.g. the British Ordnance Survey (OS) series, and related products, such as the LUS), provide a partial but significant representation of the cultural landscapes we inhabit. This paper argues for a ‘dwelling’ perspective (see below) in understanding the relationship between maps, person, and place, but one in which we need to understand the role of both agency and structure. Agency is the individual’s ability to think and act independently. By contrast, structure involves factors that constrain or limit agency. Structure can involve issues such as economics, social class, gender, and social mores.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"2 1","pages":"190 - 197"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"87014646","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"My First Atlas","authors":"Carla Cristina Reinaldo Gimenes de Sena","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1927398","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1927398","url":null,"abstract":"Initially, when I was invited to write this essay, I thought about discussing the maps produced by XVI Century European navigators, which showed ‘Terra Brasilis,’ as Brazil was called during the period of Portuguese colonization, to the world for the first time. But, as I reflected on the importance of this text and the special edition of the International Journal of Cartography, I decided it would be much more appropriate to comment on map production in Brazil, something very much in line with my own academic experience. I have been a professor of School Cartography, among other university courses, for a little over 10 years, and before that, I was a Geography teacher at the primary and middle school levels for 19 years. During the period that I worked in basic education, I undertook my Master’s and Doctorate degree programs, which were always linked to the teaching of cartography, especially tactile cartography. When I was a teacher, I always worked with the most varied kinds of school maps and Atlases. This contextualization is important, because the work I have chosen, which is much more than a map, is part of my background as a teacher, both at school and at university, as it addresses the teaching of cartography as an essential element in the development of spatial thinking among children and young people. Accordingly, I chose ‘My First Atlas,’ a publication of the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE), as it was a work that captivated me for the care and the meticulous manner in which it presents the elements of the map, the production techniques and the choice of each representation (Figure 1). The IBGE, organizer of the work, is a Brazilian federal government entity. It was founded on 2 January 1938, replacing the National Institute of Statistics. Nowadays, its institutional mission is ‘to portray Brazil by providing the information required to the understanding of its reality and the exercise of citizenship,’ (IBGE, 2021) and today it is the main source of data and information on Brazil, responsible for the national census, economic surveys, geodesic data and the production of the topographical and thematic maps. Published in 2005, ‘My First Atlas’ is now in its fourth edition; it has 148 pages and it is divided into two parts, the first called ‘Constructing and Understanding Maps’, which teaches children the basics of cartography, and the second called simply ‘Maps,’ (Figure 2) which is similar to a traditional school Atlas.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"6 1","pages":"218 - 225"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"83146938","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Cartography Is Here.","authors":"Igor Drecki","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1924484","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1924484","url":null,"abstract":"In late June 2019, I received an email from Chris McDowall, a good friend and geographer at heart, saying: ‘And the atlas...Ohman. This has been so stressful and I’ve tied myself up in all sorts of knots over it. Would you be free [...] to look over it with me if I dropped by for a couple of hours?’ I agreed, little knowing what I am about to experience! A few days later, Chris walked in with a proof copy ofWeAre Here: An atlas of Aotearoa (Figure 1(a)) under his arm (McDowall & Denee, 2019). We sat down at a large layout table and... I was teleported to the world of cartography at its best. Every new map I looked at, every graph, every visualisation resonated withme,mademe curious and enquiring (and it still does). In a ‘user testing’ style I was reporting back to Chris what I thought about each plate, what worked for me, what I was not sure about. Having him sitting next to me was special as I was able to learn about his thinking behind the design choices he made in exchange. A couple of hours turned unnoticeably into four. My honest and spontaneous response to the atlas put Chris at ease; it seemed the ‘knots’ he had tied himself up in became loosened... Ten days later the book was sent to the printer. In an introduction to the atlas, Chris’ co-author and graphic designer for the project Tim Denee shares the following sentiment: ‘This is a book about a treasured place in the world and the people who live here, so it was important to us that the book had some grace.’ This approach has all the ingredients that are necessary when embarking on a cartographic project: the recognition of a worthwhile subject, the respect for the reader, and the promise of utilising talents to deliver beautiful, relevant and inspiring content. Mapping NewZealand, this treasured place, is always rewarding design-wise. If God ever looked for an inspiration to create Eden, there would be a very good chance it would have been Aotearoa. This dynamic and varied land provides a cartographer with infinite possibilities to map it, although it is not free from challenges. The devastating 2011 Christchurch earthquake that claimed the lives of 185 people is not a happy story, but one which needs to be told to understand New Zealand today. The atlas takes on this subject in an unorthodox fashion by refocusing the attention to the consequences of the event – The Sinking City, which in places subsided by half a metre or more. The preand post-event high definition terrain surveys provide the data, while the dark blue colouring of the areas affected most makes a logical association with liquefaction, chiefly responsible for literally sinking the city (Figure 1(b)). The black speckles of residential homes in Burwood that once were are reminiscent of the hundreds of people that lived there, their houses now gone.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"74 1","pages":"211 - 217"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"85720106","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Matthew Picton's Urban Narratives. Or how a three-dimensional paper map can beam you into the London bombing nights of 1940","authors":"T. Streifeneder, B. Piatti","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1921379","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1921379","url":null,"abstract":"The first impression is a delicate paper city with a river. Homes and blocks of houses formed from printed pages. The buildings are open at the top, the words and the text fragments unfold inside, in stylish typography, with some passages in capital letters, most of them clearly legible: ‘Like lost souls leaking’, ‘Fear’, ‘Germany’s full force’, ‘the last of sunset’, ‘safety curtain’ ... . But the most striking are its burnt, scorched parts. A paper city badly destroyed by fire: what a powerful image. If you have not already guessed, the title of the four-part work (4 panels) provides the information about the place and time: ‘London 1940’. The dimensions: 37′′×30′′. Picton’s sculptural maps are so fascinating and so convincingly prepared as allusive reliefs that one is literally sucked into them. Suddenly, you undertake a psychogeographical trip walking through dark, unlit street canyons with illuminated façades on both sides. The walls have become huge projection surfaces with man-sized letters telling place-based stories. The sentences drive you from house to house, street to street in a fantastic walkable narrated space.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"443 1","pages":"233 - 239"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"82993637","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Interactive videodiscs: beginnings of multimedia and catalyst for multimedia cartography","authors":"W. Cartwright","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1912253","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1912253","url":null,"abstract":"In 1985, I was lecturing in the Geography Department at Portsmouth Polytechnic. My lectures focused on cartographic design and production which focussed on the manual production of colour separation artwork, as part of the photo-mechanical production process, that led to subsequent printing via the printing press. Even thoughmy lecturing programme at the time was focused around paper production and delivery of geographic information, I was searching for an alternative, non-printing, and non-computer-driven, alternatives for portraying geographic information. I had experimented with interactive slides, film, photography, and television. In looking for a medium that would allow me to experiment with a conglomerate of graphics +maps, what I found in 1985 was interactive videodisc. In that year, I attended the Association of British Geographers conference and heard a paper presented by Doctor Helen Mounsey on Birkbeck College’s involvement in the development of the BBC/Philips/Acorn Computers-supported Domesday Project interactive videodisc. I later visited Birkbeck College in London in 1985, where I was briefed about their involvement in the project and viewed the ‘real thing’. The Domesday project was produced to commemorate the 900th anniversary of the original Doomsday Book of 1085. It was seen as a contemporary version of the 1085 book and a contemporary (1985) record of the geography and social activities carried out throughout Great Britain. Rather than being stored and delivered as a bound paper book, as the original Domesday records did, this product was a hybrid analogue/digital product. The possibilities of what could be achieved by interposing a computer and software between the keyboard and tracker ball allowed for the frames on the video disc to not just be viewed sequentially, but a specific frame could be viewed, frames could be played as movies and these could be accompanied by text and sound. It must be noted that the Domesday videodisc wasn’t the first geographically-related videodisc package. This was the Aspen Movie Map Project (1978), developed at the MIT Architecture Machine Group. This package used videodiscs, controlled by computers, to allow the user to ‘drive’ down corridors or streets of Aspen, Colorado (Negroponte, 1995a). Exposure to this videodisc system changed completely how I thought about how geographic information could be delivered, and it was the catalyst for my research in interactive integrated multimedia cartographic systems over the following 35 years.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"30 1","pages":"198 - 204"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"78287009","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"MapQuest and the beginnings of web cartography","authors":"M. Peterson","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1925831","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1925831","url":null,"abstract":"There are times when technological innovations culminate in a series of rapid developments. We look back on these times with a certain awe. This is true for the three years in the mid-1990s, between 1993 and 1996, when web cartography came to be. The three years begin with the introduction of the first graphical World Wide Web (WWW) browser, Mosaic, in April of 1993. It ends three years later in 1996 with the introduction of MapQuest, the first widely-available, Web-based mapping program. To put the period between 1993 and 1996 in context, it begins exactly 10 years after the military network called ARPAnet transitioned to the US National Science Foundation NSFnet and the new Transmission Control Protocol / Internet Protocol (TCP/IP). This occurred on January 1, 1983, a date that many associate with the beginning of the Internet. The event contributed to a major expansion of the Internet. A quarter-century later, we can view this time as a rapid evolution, if not revolution. Given the current importance of the Internet and the World Wide Web to cartography and our daily lives, it is fitting that we examine these years and how innovations during this time contributed to a dramatic change in map distribution, and map use. The specific purpose here is to examine MapQuest, the developments that preceded it and how it changed the way we use maps. We divide this retrospective into three timeperiods: (1) a pre-Mosaic period; (2) the time between Mosaic and MapQuest; and (3) the MapQuest era. Finally, we look at how MapQuest, major, online map provider between 1996 and 2009, was ultimately overtaken by Google Maps.","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"38 1","pages":"275 - 281"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"74748869","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"The Soviet military 1:10,000 city plan of Dover, UK (1974)","authors":"A. Kent","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1910185","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1910185","url":null,"abstract":"Maps stimulate our minds and our senses. The best maps force us to stop, gaze, and to rethink the way we see their subject, often through their powerful combination of a new perspective with a new aesthetic. Some cartographic encounters, however, also transform the map. There has hardly been a greater demonstration of the ‘afterlife’ ofmaps than those produced in secrecy by the General Staff of the Soviet Union as they emerged from the collapse of the USSR. They have since been used in a range of contexts, from supporting the US invasion of Afghanistan in 2001 (Lee & Shumakov, 2003) to art exhibitions in the UK (Gec, 2019). The full extent of Soviet globalmilitarymappingproject is yet to be revealed andonly limited informationhasbeengleaned fromstudies of themaps themselves (e.g. Davies&Kent, 2017). Today, however, their popular appeal transcends their value as historical documents. Soviet military maps present an unrealized vision of the world to the Western imagination – an unthinkable prospect to the cartographers who made them during the Cold War. This short paper outlines the Soviet military global mapping project and focuses on the city plan of Dover (UK) – a town local to the author – to offer a personal view of how Soviet military maps may be regarded as supreme examples of cartographic design with an enduring power to fascinate. Discussions concerning the wider rationale for the maps, assessments of national coverage, and more detailed analyses of individual sheets are to be found elsewhere (e.g. Kent & Davies, 2013; Davies & Kent, 2017; Davis & Kent, 2017; Kent et al., 2019; Cruickshank, 2020; and Svenningsen & Perner, 2020.)","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"37 1","pages":"245 - 251"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"81549899","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Reinhard Maack and the Brandberg (Namibia).The long wait for the country's highest mountain to be cartographically recognized","authors":"Imre Josef Demhardt","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1911594","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1911594","url":null,"abstract":"This story has two unsung heroes: a mountain, and a cartographer. First, there was the mountain and its environment. All around the edges of southern Africa, the major relief features are coastal lowlands separated by the Great Escarpment from interior highlands. In southwestern Africa, however, erosion has formed a gap between 19° and 23°S, where the coastal desert Namib continually rises to the level of the interior highlands. This inclined plane is perforated by several huge volcanic intrusions such as the Erongo and Brandberg (Figures 1 and 2). The latter forms a dome-shaped granite massif of about 450 km (26×21 km) with steep and barren flanks, rising with its core plateau up to 1500 m above the 500–800 m high transitional gravel plains of the coastal Namib desert to the interior dry steppe, about 90 km inland. Although the setting makes the Brandberg or ‘burnt mountain’, as the Dutch translated the local name, visible from a great distance, its early notice by Europeans is opaque. The Portuguese had reached these shores in 1484, but found them a sandy desert, which later acquired the telling name Skeleton Coast. Only in the nineteenth century did recorded observations of the interior begin, with British navigational charts showing a prominent inland elevation in the area but placing it too close to the coast for it to be the Brandberg. This ‘Mount Messum’, named for a British captain, moved around in mid-century maps, but possibly originates from vessel sightings of the low rim of what now is called Messum Crater, about halfway between the coast and the Brandberg. Missionary Hugo Hahn was the first European to see the massif, in 1871, from as far as Okombahe, and to note it in his travel diary, too, which informed an 1878 route compilation map by August Petermann (Figure 3). In 1884, the Namib coast between the Kunene and Orange rivers with the hinterland was annexed by Germany, which until World War I held onto it as Schutzgebiet Deutsch-Südwestafrika (Protectorate German South West Africa). In 1888, German officer Friedrich von Steinäcker was the first to explore by wagon and on horseback the rumored mineral deposits in the vicinity of the Brandberg. In the following year, 1889, German geologist Georg Gürich, on reconnaissance on behalf of a gold prospecting syndicate, failed in his attempts to enter the Brandberg gorges. That scientist was also the culprit for a gross miss judgement carried on maps for the next decades. He estimated that the summit plateau of the Brandberg rises only about 500 m above the","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"32 1","pages":"152 - 157"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"80793799","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"The Heart of the Grand Canyon","authors":"Tom Patterson","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1917332","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1917332","url":null,"abstract":"Bradford Washburn’s (1910–2007) The Heart of the Grand Canyon map was born out of frustration. While visiting that iconic park with his wife Barbara in 1969, Washburn was ‘disturbed’ to find a total lack of detailed maps (Fry, 2019). The best map available then was a topographic sheet at 1:62,500 scale (one inch to the mile) and with 80-foot (24.4 m) contours. Besides lacking detail, this map used the standard symbology found on all US Geological Survey topographic maps, which failed to depict the unique character of the Grand Canyon. Thinking that the three million annual park visitors were being cartographically ill-served, Washburn decided to make a better map. So began an almost eightyear project, one involving family, friends, and volunteers, that culminated with his nowfamous map published by National Geographic. Washburn’s intent was to create a highly accurate map useful to scientific researchers that would also appeal to the layperson. The Heart of the Grand Canyonmap focuses on the main touristic area between Grand Canyon Village on the South Rim and Grand Canyon Lodge on the North Rim (Figure 1). How the map came to be is a remarkable story. Washburn, who was the Director of the BostonMuseum of Science, used his modest research budget at that institution to jump-start the project. Initially, it was a side project that he worked on while taking vacations. Having once worked as an instructor of cartography, Washburn was keenly interested in the latest scientific advancements in surveying and mapping, which meshed with his other passions – mountaineering, exploration, and aerial photography. He had already directed two other projects that resulted in world-class maps: Mount McKinley produced by swisstopo in 1960; and Mount Kennedy produced by National Geographic in 1968. Washburn would again work with these two organizations to complete The Heart of the Grand Canyon map. This is also a story about how working collaboratively can accomplish great things. The mapping had to start from scratch due to concerns about the accuracy of previous surveys done decades earlier. With his improvised team and working in a piecemeal manner depending on their schedules, Washburn set out to establish a control network to serve as a framework for ‘resurveying’ the canyon. He based the new control network on five first-order triangulation stations on the North and South rims that were known to be very accurate. The network was then extended, using theodolites and laser rangefinders, to the tops of prominent pinnacles and buttes visible from lower places within the canyon. Helicopters provided access to the more vertiginous crags. The resurveying also involved leveling (to determine elevation) and walking trails with distance measuring wheels. Field work took place from 1971 to 1975, including 144 days spent in the field and 712 helicopter landings (Washburn, 1978).","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"9 4 1","pages":"121 - 127"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"78635683","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Measuring geodetic baselines in Spain during the 1850s","authors":"Andrés Arístegui","doi":"10.1080/23729333.2021.1924485","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/23729333.2021.1924485","url":null,"abstract":"The Industrial Revolution, Capitalism and the Liberal State gradually settled in Western Europe during the late eighteenth century and the first half of the nineteenth century. This process began in England and France with the Industrial and the French Revolutions. It then spread across the continent in times of Napoleon. Its rate of growth slowed with the Congress of Vienna in 1815. From1848onwards, it reached anewpeakwith the popular revolutions and their effects, which swept through Europe giving birth to new states such as Germany and Italy, based on a new conception of economic, social and political structures. This period meant in Spain, as in the rest of Western Europe, this break-up of the economic, social and political frame of the Ancient Régime and the leap to the Industrial Revolution, Capitalism and the Liberal State. These profound transformations aimed to provide the new productive forces with modern technical means that could help exploiting the raw materials and developing the country. New official institutions were to be settled in order to help scrutinising and representing Spain. In other words, new public bodies had to be founded for gathering precise statistical data, establishing a new cadastre to collect taxes more efficiently, creating a modern topographic map based on a national geodetic grid, drawing thematic maps to reveal the raw materials in the country, etc. Regarding cartography, the evolution in representing the Iberian Peninsula underwent only slight variations and improvements from the end of the Middle Ages until approximately 1750. There was a strong scientific progress during the second half of the eighteenth century when drawing up an accurate National Topographic Map became a relevant matter of concern (see Camarero, 2006). Nevertheless, these projects from the mid-eighteenth century did not come to fruition and mapping projects fell into a ‘morass’ during the first half of the nineteenth century (Paladini, 1991). Thus, the most precise maps available in Spain by 1850 dated from the second half of the eighteenth century and looked similar to those from 1600 (Hernando, 2005). These maps were useful in terms of geographic information. However, they did not provide any geometric accuracy as they had not been drawn upon precise geodetic and topographical measurements. Therefore, these maps were clearly insufficient for the needs of the industrial era. Several Commissions were set up in the 1850s with the aim of observing and calculating the geodetic and levelling grids, drawing up the National Topographic Map and drawing up the Spanish Cadastre. This institutional and technical decanting process","PeriodicalId":36401,"journal":{"name":"International Journal of Cartography","volume":"37 1","pages":"268 - 274"},"PeriodicalIF":0.5,"publicationDate":"2021-05-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"87704524","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}