20th Century Pictorial Maps

Maps have long had a pictorial element to them. Maps can, of course, be fairly “cartographic” in appearance, using lines, dots, contour lines, and other symbols, but for centuries other maps have been more illustratively graphic.

Pictorial images have been scattered about their surface from as early as fifteenth and sixteen century portolan maps, with vignettes of walled cities, to the putti of Dutch seventeenth century maps, to the elaborate title cartouches of the eighteenth century.

Other maps have been themselves pictorial, for the image was designed to look like some object such as a person or creature. The Leo Belgicus maps from the seventeenth century are among the most famous of these, but there are many others were made over the years.

A new type of pictorial map, though, made its appearance about the second decade of the 20th century. These pictorial maps added a pictographic element to the underlying cartographic rendering, adding a visual narrative onto the geographic background. Rather than having small, illustrative images as an adjunct to the main map, the vignettes became much more the heart of the maps.

These maps were produced not so much to present a topographical image, but provide an informative and amusing picture of a place with the cartography providing the stage for the main roles played by the pictorial illustrations. These maps were usually drawn by illustrative artists for commercial or commemorative purposes. They were used to promote tourism, advertise products or companies, illustrate news events, or other similar non-geographic purposes. These maps were designed to appeal to the eye and mind, adding colorful vignettes, text and often a humorous element.

While issued in large numbers, these maps were ephemeral and so they are often quite uncommon. Many important American graphic artists, such as Ernest Dudley Chase and Jo Mora, created these maps, each developing his own style. Since the turn of the millennium, these maps have become increasingly collectible, with some maps reaching the four figure mark, though on the whole they remain much less expensive. For those interested in collecting maps which are still surprisingly affordable, these are a great choice.

The Rocky Mountain Map Society is featuring 20th century maps, including pictorial maps, as part of its 2015 Map Month. This year, the RMMS is working with both Denver Public Library and the University of Denver, both of which are holding major exhibitions of these maps through the end of June 2015. The exhibit at Denver Public Library focuses on 20th century maps from the collection of the Western History Department and the exhibit at University of Denver is exclusively about pictorial maps, showing wonderful images from a local, private collection. Both are well worth a visit if you are in Denver between now and the end of June.

Currier & Ives sizes

One of the most common ways to spot a Currier & Ives reproduction is that the size is wrong. While there are some reproductions that are made to the same size as the originals, by far most Currier & Ives copies are the wrong size. This is an important point, but it also brings up the general topic of sizes as related to Currier & Ives, the subject of this posting.


The first thing to know about Currier & Ives sizes is that they are usually, and should always be given for just the images themselves, not including the margins nor the title area, and the vertical size is given first. The primary reason for this is that the “standard” reference listing Currier & Ives prints, Frederic A. Conningham’s Currier & Ives Prints. An Illustrated Check List gives the sizes in this way. Ever since it was first issued in 1949, this work lists the sizes of Currier & Ives prints (where they are given-—not all prints have their size indicated) “exclusive of margins.”

As Conningham's book became the standard reference for collectors and dealers from its first issue, and to some extent remains so today, it makes sense that those who work with Currier & Ives prints have followed Conningham in the way he gives measurements.

There are other reasons to do this as well. Gale Research’s listing of the prints (Currier & Ives. A Catalogue Raisonne) does not follow Conningham, but gives the vertical size as including the text below the image. This problematic, not only because it creates a discrepancy between the two reference books, but more importantly because the text below the image is sometimes trimmed, especially where there is a small copyright line below the title. This makes it impossible to check the size compared to the listing. This is as opposed to Conningham's measurements, for the image is much less often trimmed. And, of course, as the margins of many prints are trimmed at least somewhat, giving the measurements of the full sheet of paper would be practically useless.

Interestingly, however, in one way the Conningham measurements are not usually followed today, viz. in the measurement of the prints in sixteenths of inches. It makes sense to measure in inches, for these are quintessential American prints and so an American measurement should be used. However, many dealers and collectors measure only to the nearest eight of an inch. First off, Conningham used the notation, e.g., 8.4 to indicate 8 4/16th, rather than the more standard 8 1/4, but beyond this there is an even more fundamental reason not to use sixteenths of an inch.


That is that the sizes of original prints actually vary by a fair bit. There are a number of reasons for this. One would be what paper was used and how it was prepared for printing, as different lots of paper would respond differently over time. Then the most common is that paper expands or contracts over time, depending on how it was treated, whether it got wet, was stored in a humid environment and so forth. Thus the image drawn on the stone might be 8 1/4 tall, but the image on the paper today can vary from this either by being smaller or larger, the former being more common.

There is also the fact that Currier & Ives are known to have used different stones to make the same print. In order to be able to run off a lot of the prints, they would sometimes have two or more stones of the same image going at the same time. In some of these cases there are noticeable differences in the images, but in others the images were essentially the same. These duplicate stones were made using a transfer process and in doing this, the size of the image on the stones could vary somewhat.

So to be as precise as 1/16th of an inch doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. Whenever one measures a Currier & Ives print, one should allow some variation in the size. How much is hard to say. Certainly an inch is too much, but for a large folio prints I would think upwards of about 3/8th inch difference from the “recorded” size would be acceptable if all other indications are that the print is an original. (Generally there will be more variation on the longer side than the shorter side).

As I indicated above, Conningham does not give the exact size of many of the prints. He does, however, always give a size category: “V.S.” for “very small,” “S” for small, “M” for medium, and “L” for large. Thus it is that dealers and collectors almost always will categorize Currier & Ives prints as being either “very small folio,” “small folio,” “medium folio,” and “large folio.”

Interestingly, the Currier & Ives firm itself never used these designations. I am not sure who first used these categories, but Conningham admits that he gives them “for convenience.” It is certainly true that most Currier & Ives prints were done either in a “small folio” size of about 8 1/2 x 12 1/2 or in a very large size, bigger than about 14 by 20, but really it is simply a convention to put all the prints into these four categories. There is quite a difference in the sizes within each group, and this sometimes leads to differences of opinion over, for instance, whether a print is a largish small folio or a smallish medium folio.

For what it is worth, Conningham says that a very small folio print is up to 7 x 9, a small folio is approximately 8 1/2 x 12 1/2, a medium is between about 9 x 14 to 14 x 20, and a large folio is over 14 x 20. One oddity is that Gale Research’s listing accepts these measurements from Conningham, even though their measuring system it totally different! As they are using the text in the size, they should either have increased the vertical sizes of their categories or have said that their size categories used only the image size. However, as I indicated, I think Gale Research got the whole measuring thing wrong from the beginning.


What my shop does is give both the category size and the size of the image itself. We have also followed this measuring system for other prints and maps, though there is less universal acceptance of this for other types of prints. Still, for Currier & Ives it is best to know and follow these conventions. It will help if you want to describe your print to someone else, it is the standard convention followed by most dealers who regularly deal with the prints, and it is the easiest way to check if you have an original or not.

For more on Currier & Ives, feel free to visit us at the Philadelphia Print Shop West.

Original or Reproduction?

Telling an original print or map from a reproduction can sometimes be very easy, and other times quite difficult. [Click here for discussion of the differences between originals and reproductions] Below are some tests you can make which might tell you what you have.

Printing process
The most definitive method of determining whether a print is an original or a reproduction is by examination of its production process. All reproductions are made by a different process than originals; reproductions are photomechanically produced and originals are not. This difference in process can usually be spotted by an expert and in some cases is quite obvious.

• Most reproductions are made from a dot-matrix or half tone process, which produces a lentiginous image composed of a symmetrical pattern of small dots.. If you look through a fairly powerful magnifier (e.g. 10X) and you see little dots (either black & white or color), then you have a reproduction.
  
  
• If the print is supposed to be an intaglio print (engraving, etching, mezzotint, aquatint, etc.), then if there are big enough margins, a platemark should appear. Note that fake platemarks are not uncommon, but these usually differ in character from real platemarks. Also, the ink in an itaglio print will often feel raised from the surface, so if the print surface feels absolutely smooth, this is a clue that it is not an intaglio print.
  
  
• If the print is supposed to be a lithograph or woodcut or wood engraving, then there should be no platemark. If a platemark appears, you likely have a reproduction.
  
  
• Most intaglio prints, woodcut and wood engravings, when colored, are colored by hand with watercolors. If the color is printed and the print is supposed to be one of these types, then this is another clue you have a reproduction.
  

Paper
As a general rule, almost all prints and maps printed before 1800 are on laid paper and almost all prints and maps printed after 1800 are on wove paper.

• Laid paper is made by hand in a mold, where the wires used to support the paper pulp emboss their pattern into the paper. This pattern of closely spaced, crossing lines can be seen when the paper is held up to light. The first example of the use of wove paper in western printing was in 1757, so any print or map made before that should certainly be on laid paper. However, even in the second half of the eighteenth century, the use of wove paper was relatively rare, increasing in instances the closer to the end of the century. Also, some modern paper has false laid lines and reproductions often add false laid lines to make the item look more authentic. Thus the appearance of liad lines in the paper is a clue to authenticity, but not proof positive.
  
  
• Wove paper, in contrast, is made on a woven belt and lacks the laid lines. Thus the paper will lack the pattern of crossing lines when held up to the light. Though laid paper was used after 1800, the use of laid paper became less and less common as the nineteenth century progressed.
  

Other

• Look for any printed information which indicates the print is a reproduction, e.g. “reproduced from” or a copyright notice, etc.
  
  
• The best way to tell what you have is to try to find a reference book which features the map or print you are trying to research. This can be a collection listing, an exhibition catalogue, or a or catalogue raisonné. These references often list details about the prints or maps and you can compare these to your print or map. Among the details to check are title, measurements and the exact wording of any imprint information. Note that old prints do vary a bit in size, but the measurements should be within about 1/4” of the recorded size.
  
  
• Many prints and maps were issued in bound volumes and if the item is large, then it will often have to have been folded to fit into the volume. This is especially true for old maps, where the majority of original antique maps from before the nineteenth century have a "centerfold." The appearance of a centerfold is often good evidence that you have an original.
  

Note that none of these tests are certain, for there are exceptions to all of them. Also, even if your print passes these tests this doesn’t mean that it is original, though failure of any indicates it probably is a reproduction. Ultimately the issue must be decided by knowing what process the print should be and knowing what the paper should be like. This often takes an expert to determine for certain.

You can read more about how to tell an original map in a "Tips of the Trade" article on the Antiques Roadshow web site.

You can read more about the different ways prints were made in the Antique Prints Blog posts on print processes.

Nineteenth-century British sporting prints

We get a lot of email queries about the value of nineteenth-century British sporting prints. Prints of racing, fox hunting, and other types of field sports were very popular in Great Britain in this period and many top artist and printmakers produced a large variety of these prints, often in sets of four, six or eight. These prints were intended to be framed and hung in the home, office or club and they are among the most archetypical British prints from this period. They were hugely popular and remain so today.

The popularity of these prints means that they were made in large numbers, but also that many of the plates for these prints were preserved and over the years were used to make new printings (reprints); some of the nineteenth-century plates are in existence today and are still used to make new prints. The popularity of these prints extends even further, for many of these prints have been photomechanically copied and reproductions made. These two factors mean that when one sees a British sporting print the question must always be asked as to whether one is looking at an original strike, a restrike or a reproduction. (See earlier blog on this topic) While this issue does come up with other prints, I would say that there are no other prints for which this is more of an issue than with nineteenth-century British sporting prints.

In terms of decoration, it doesn’t really matter whether one has an early strike, a restrike or a reproduction, as all can be very attractive, with great action and bright color. However, in terms of value there is a significant difference between the three types of prints. The factors are complex in determining the difference in values between these different types of prints for any particular example, but a typical difference might be that an early strike would be worth about $1,200, a restrike maybe $600 and a reproduction $200.

So how do you tell? This is not an easy thing to do and usually even experts need to see a print “in person” in order to make a determination. The best way to tell is by the paper, but this is not something where I can lay out particular things to look for. As we are talking about nineteenth-century prints, the paper will be wove (cf. earlier post on types of paper), but paper from different periods has a different “feel” to it which you can get a sense of through experience. This, of course, is not a lot of help if you are not an expert and can’t show the print to someone who is.

Reproductions can usually be determined by the printing process. There are a number of different reproductive processes (these are discussed to some extent on our on-line reference library), but an examination of the printed surface under magnification can often establish easily if one has a reproduction or not.

The case is a bit more difficult for telling a restrike from an early strike, for both of these are made by the same process (and indeed, the same plate). In this case the easiest thing to do is to look at the quality of the impression. Printing plates usually wear over time, so that the finer details start to fade away on the printed surface. This happens even to plates that are steel-faced, as many of the still existing plates have been.

If you look at the impression of most restrikes, there will be a lack of fine detail and most will have a certain “flatness” to the image. On early strikes, the flanks of the horses, the trees in the distance, the clouds, and so forth, will have texture and detail that is in the printed image itself. In restrikes this texture and detail will be missing and often the printmaker will make up for this by adding extra details and texture in the hand coloring. One common characteristic of restrikes is that the color with be bright and heavily applied to hide the lack of detail/texture in the printed impression.

In terms of the British sporting prints we see in this country, the vast majority are either restrikes or reproductions. Some early strikes have made it over to this side of the Atlantic, but not that many. These prints have remained very popular in the British Isles and there are a lot of sophisticated collectors over there, so most of the really good, early British sporting prints never left there. Restrikes have been around since the late nineteenth-century and these are the prints that most American tourists purchased when visiting the British Isles (as they were available and priced reasonably) and many have also been sent over to antique dealers for sale here. Reproductions are also quite common here.

This means that whenever you see a nineteenth-century British sporting print in North America, the odds are, it is not an early strike. Our shop makes an effort to find early strikes and you can find them if you look hard, but most of the British sporting prints you see in this country will be restrikes or reproductions. There is, of course, nothing at all wrong with the restrikes and reproductions as long as you pay only the right amount for what you get, but this is something that one needs to be aware of if you are looking to purchase one of these prints. This also matters in that one should be willing to pay extra when you do find a good early strike, for unlike with the restrikes and reproductions, these are real collector prints.

The tales of maps

Another posting from Kelli Lucas:

Chris has done a great job in other posts on this blog of talking about what makes a map valuable from a connoisseur's perspective. But for a beginning collector (whether "young" or not), these things might only make a difference if the map is valuable from a personal perspective. Or for a person looking to give a map as a gift, it's sometimes difficult to know what will make a map interesting and special to the recipient. What will make the purchased object something that will be enjoyed over the years, hung on the wall and appreciated?

When a person comes in with an interest in antique maps, he or she is often ready to take a map home - but has no idea which one to pick! With maps of locations all over the world and across centuries, it's sometimes difficult to narrow a wide selection like ours to one single map. It's important to understand the things that Chris has explained in other blogs: how to understand why one map is worth $500 and another is worth $50 will make spending either amount more satisfying. But beyond objective, connoisseurial criteria, the choice often comes down to one single, defining factor: storytelling.

In my experience helping our customers in the shop and at antiques shows, very often, the choice comes down to the story. In fact, my favorite part of working at the Philadelphia Print Shop has always been the tales people tell when they look at antique prints and maps. I'm not speaking metaphorically or symbolically: people literally start recounting memories of childhood vacations when they see maps of the Grand Canyon, or of college dormitories when they see maps of Philadelphia. A young woman buying a map for her husband will excitedly pull out a map of the county where he grew up and point out to me the township where he went to elementary school, tracing the road where he lived, pointing out where her in-laws still own the same house. Or a grandfather visiting our shop for the first time might stumble on a map of North Carolina in the 1870s that shows precisely the town where, according to his genealogical research, his ancestors farmed after the Civil War, and with the map in hand, he will unfold his family's tale for me. Maps act like narrative prompts, helping people string together facts about themselves and their loved ones.

This is where it gets fun: if you're looking for a map for yourself or for a loved one, you can start to think through your (or their) stories. Think about where you (or your loved one) have grown up, vacationed, or attended school. Maybe you want a map of a place you've always wished to see (there are lots of antique maps that cost substantially less than a plane ticket and hotel!). Maybe you and your best friend have talked for years about the tour you'll take of the French countryside, or of the adventure you'd love to have in the Andes Mountains. Do you love Japanese food? Then how about a map of Japan to hang in your dining room? Or perhaps you are especially fond of wines of 's Mosel region. There are antique maps of that, too! One of the best parties I ever hosted ended wonderfully with an atlas spread out in the living room as my guests took turns finding maps of places they had visited on study-abroad trips in college. I could have made a birthday-gift list for a half-dozen friends just based on the conversations from that night!

To offer examples (and as an excuse to introduce some of our staff here at the Philadelphia Print Shop), I asked my co-workers to pick maps of important, story-worthy places in their lives... This story comes from David T. Moore, assistant to the partners.

If you look at the highest magnification of the William Scull map of Pennsylvania (London, 1775), you can barely see (illegible on the web, very clear on the actual map!) writing directly above the "B" in Bucks County and just below the section fold. That writing says "Walter McCool's," meaning McCool's tavern. McCool, my 5th great-grandfather, was an Ulster Quaker immigrant, who first had a mill in Bucks County, opening the inn about 1748. By the period of the Revolution he had relocated to Whitemarsh Township in (then) Philadelphia County, now in Montgomery County since it was carved out from Philadelphia in 1784. The tavern has existed off-and-on since then, now known as "McCool's at the Historic Red Lion Inn" in Quakertown.

Thanks, David!

These are the sorts of stories that make antique maps interesting to me - the stories that connect a person to a piece of paper, and to the other people who have connected themselves to that same piece of paper throughout time. And at its core, the study of history is just that: the study of the stories people tell about themselves, the places they've been, and the people and objects they've known there.

Collection themes

In my blog about what it is to collect, I talked about the importance of developing a theme or topic for a collection. As I noted, the theme of a collection is that characteristic which the prints share that turns the assemblage into a single entity, rather than simply a group of prints. Today I will discuss this topic a bit more in depth, considering some suggestions on how to pick a theme for your collection and a look at popular and overlooked themes.
A theme can consist of a single subject--such as views of Niagara Falls; a printmaker or group of printmakers--as in prints engraved by Philadelphia craftsmen or prints after Hogarth; a printmaking process--such as mezzotinting; or any other shared characteristic--such as newspaper bonus prints. A theme can be comprehensive for the chosen subject or limited to prints issued in a certain period, such as prints published before the nineteenth century. Pretty much any subject related to prints can be a theme; the important notion is that a theme limits the universe of prints to be collected; a theme is what ties the individual prints together into the united entity which is a collection.

The theme determines not only the nature of the resulting collection, but also the experience which the collector will have in putting together the collection. It is thus important that a potential collector spend some time thinking about what theme to choose. Following are a few basic considerations to keep in mind.

Most obviously, the theme should be something of interest to the collector. Much of the value of prints comes from their content and history, and unless a collector enjoys those things, he/she will not derive any of the enjoyment that can come with finding and owning objects in which one is interested. It really doesn’t make sense to collect something simply because it sounds impressive or because the value of the items (and thus of the collection) is high, for not only will you be missing out on an important component of collecting, but it is likely that you will not want to continue to collect over the years.

Besides this, there are some practical considerations to take into account in choosing a theme. You want a theme which will include enough prints so that you will be able to find prints to add, but not so broad that prints that fit come along all the time. If your theme is too narrow, then you will never find prints the acquire and that certainly isn’t much fun. On the other hand, part of the fun of collecting is that there is an element of the hunt, with its accompanying thrill of discovery, and of serendipity, with its resulting pleasures of surprise. If every time you go to an auction, walk into a gallery or browse a flea market you come across prints that fit your theme, I suspect it will soon become a bit boring.
Another important consideration is the cost of prints that fit your theme. You might find early Dutch world maps to be fascinating, and they can be found on the market, but these tend to be very expensive. If you decide to collect these and can spend only several hundred dollars or so a year, you will not find many such maps you can afford. It might be better to collect early Dutch maps of some other area less expensive, say of France, or to collect world maps from the nineteenth century. One trick is to pick an “obscure” or “overlooked” theme (cf. below), where the prints will not be so desirable or not as much collected, for then you are likely to be able to find more opportunities to purchase prints that fit your theme and have an affordable price.
The theme that a collector chooses is the foundation of the collection and so the collector should spend time in selecting the subject. The collector should always allow a bit of lee-way in the thematic criterion, and the theme can, of course, change over time. Also, the collection can be culled or expanded as the collector's interest changes.

Popular themes


For maps, the most typical theme is to collect maps of a particular place. This is an obvious theme if you are interested in a particular city, county, state, country, or continent, and such collections can be very interesting in showing the growth of knowledge of that place over time. This also allows you to collect maps from many different periods in a wide range of styles, sizes, and price ranges. This sort of collection can be particularly good if knowledge of the subject changes considerably over time (where new discoveries are shown on maps as time passes). It is important to note, however, that different places can be relatively more or less expensive, so that, for instance, maps of Texas will usually be two or three times as expensive as maps of Pennsylvania. In our experience, the most common of this type of collection are maps of the World, the United States, Texas, and maps showing California as an island.


Views are similarly collected mostly by place. Views of cities are very popular, with the larger cities both having more prints done of them and more people collecting them. Colleges and schools are also popular as subjects, though for most educational institutions not many prints were made of them. Some will collect types of views, be their vue d’optiques or the bird’s eye views of the nineteenth century.

For historical prints, the two most popular themes are those of a particular person or war. For the latter, prints of the American Revolution are always popular, with those of the Civil War coming in close behind. The other wars are less popular, but there still are many people who collect the French & Indian War, the Mexican War, the War of 1812, and to a lesser extent the Spanish American War. Presidential portraits are the most common type of collection of individuals, with Washington and Lincoln being by far the most common. Political prints are also popular, especially political cartoons and campaign prints.

Sporting prints are mostly used for decoration, but there are collectors of specific sports. Baseball, polo, and rowing are probably those we see most often. Likewise, natural history prints are less collected than purchased for the use of decoration, but people do collect prints of particular plants, say Fritillaria or Magnolia, and others seek prints of specific animals, say Beavers or Cardinals. It probably won’t be a surprise that the most popular animal themes are prints of particular species of dogs (the problem with the latter subject is that many times breeds have appeared only in modern times and even if not, the breeds often have changed their appearance considerably over time).

There are many collections where the theme is a particular maker. This can apply to those who collect maps by a particular cartographer (Mercator, Speed, Tanner), or those who collect prints by a noted naturalist (Audubon, Catesby, Redoute). The most common printmakers collected, however, are probably fine art artists, be they old master (Durer, Rubens) or modern (Benton, Pennell). Print publishers are also collected by many, with prints by Currier & Ives probably the most commonly collected of all antique prints.

Overlooked themes

The themes mentioned above can make great collections, but their popularity means both that you will be competing with more people to find these prints and that the prices of these prints are likely to be higher. If you are going to collect one of these themes, it can be a good idea to pick a less popular place (say a region of France), a more obscure person (say William H. Taft), or a less loved bird (say the Cat Bird). It can also make sense to pick a less common type of theme. As long as you find the theme to be of interest and there are a reasonable number of items that fit the bill, an obscure theme can give you all the pleasures of collecting without the stiff competition and high prices of the common themes.

For maps, you could seek maps with sailing ships in them, with different types of compass roses, or ones that show volcanoes, and there can be any number of other themes that could tie your collection together. We had a collector who collected prints that included the American Eagle, but only if it was not a standard ornithological print. The Eagle appears as symbol in many different prints and this was a collection we had a great time helping the client with. Another collector sought anything (prints or other antiques) that included a handshake and it was surprising how many prints you could find with a handshake once you started to look.

We have often suggested to people collect some of less popular printmakers. There are many, many Currier & Ives collectors, but very few who collect the hundreds of other American popular printmakers of the nineteenth century. You can put together a wonderful collection of both small and large folio prints for just a fraction of the cost of a similar collection of Currier & Ives prints, simply because less people collect them. Almost any Currier & Ives print you find will have a strong, market price on it, but you can still find bargains by many of the other important publishers such as Louis Prang, the Kelloggs, P.S. Duval and others.

There can be collections on almost any subject you can imagine and it can be fun to come up with your own, unusual theme. Now don’t get me wrong; I think collecting Currier & Ives is a terrific thing, and one of the most important collections I ever worked on was a collection of views of Niagara Falls. My point is simply that if you are so inclined, you can often do much better by following the path less well traveled.