"Maps aren't truths."
Julie Mehretu's slide lecture at Cranbrook Tuesday, Nov 29, 2005.

Painter and winner of a 2005 McArthur Award, Ethiopian born Julie Mehretu spoke about her inspiration and background for her work at Cranbrook last week. Correspondent Mike Richison filed this review of her lecture.

In her slide lecture at Cranbrook Art Museum last Tuesday, painter Julie Mehretu made the following statement, "Maps aren't necessarily truths". It's an interesting statement considering how a western society is programmed to think of a map. Think back to elementary school. The social studies teacher pulls down a map of the world and points out the continents, countries, and capitals. Such and such city is the capital of such and such country. But according to whom? The citizens of that nation? The makers of the map? The government of the nation that colonized that nation? From an early age, we are taught to believe the map. We are taught to interpret the lines and dots that represent groups of people and their respective locations as truth. We look to the key – the little box in the corner of the map – to interpret the marks and colors in order to understand how entire cultures inhabit a physical space. Our relationship with the map and the key that began when we were children continues into adulthood as we read the atlas, newspaper, or watch the news to learn about the weather, where we're driving, or who's invading whom.

But if maps aren't truths, what are they? When we look at a map or another two dimensional display of information, what exactly are we looking at? Mehretu's large, complicated paintings add visual, physical, and conceptual layers to this discussion, adding viewpoints and possibilities to this debate.

Like any traveler pouring over a map of someplace he or she has never been, the viewer is at first overwhelmed with the sheer amount and variety of information in Mehretu's work. “Renegade Delirium” at first looks like some sort of disaster or storm. The 90" x 144" canvas is filled with what appears to be an infinite number of elements. Dark swirls comprised of handmade calligraphic hatch marks contrast with clean geometric lines and shapes underneath. Interspersed throughout are polygons and thick areas of color that range from small rectilinear forms to large swooping stripes.

Mehretu became the map key in her lecture by isolating the elements in her work – and guiding the listener/viewer through a chaotic world held together by a system of layers, groupings, and overlapping. “How do we make space?” she asked of the audience, and how do we map a political space vs. a physical space? Mehretu constructs her spaces by appropriating and layering imagery from a variety of disciplines and phenomena. The elements that begin most of her work on the bottommost layer are often some type of schematic, blueprint, or perspectival rendering of architectural elements, overhead plans of urban areas, or drawings of entire structures. In “Transcending: The New International,” she outlines the city limits of every political and cultural capital in Africa. By outlining these urban areas and linking them together, she builds a utopian mega city. She suggests that societies are begun with some sort of ideal plan or structure.

After building a base of several layers of these structures, Mehretu maps out her large swirling clouds. Much like the human population of a geographical area, these large areas of marks are comprised of individuals – individuals which are capable of social change. These clouds become tribes, nations, and entire cultures capable of growth, trade, movement, conflict or extinction.

What the viewer can appreciate about the work is that in spite of its complexity, Mehretu strives to give her viewer some sort of entry point - whether it is an architectural element or a specific color or shape. The “Stadia” series does just that. The architectural elements in the “Stadia” triptych are tracings of every stadium imaginable – from ancient amphitheaters to the most recently constructed sports arenas. Capable of housing an infinitely large audience this mega structure serves as the theater for some super spectacle. And because the stadium renderings are perspectival renderings not technical drawings, the Stadia series begins as literally a collection of viewpoints. Strung across the open fields are rows and rows of pennants, flags and abstract shapes and colors that reference elements from the flag of every nation on earth. There is something for all spectators regardless of city or country of origin. Somewhere in these rows of colors, there is an element or structure a spectator can recognize and relate to.

The processes of collection, organizing, rearranging, recontextualization and reapplication can cause confusion, and as part of her studio practice, she often studies her own paintings and collects and catalogues the individual marks and color blocks that she uses. One of the first slides Mehretu flashed during her lecture was a chart of over a hundred specific marks she used as a graduate painting student at Rhode Island School of Design. Each grouping of marks was given individual treatment isolated from its neighbors in a cell in a numbered row and column.

Where a map will tell you what is supposed to be indisputable fact, Mehretu's work asks questions and invites a dialogue. She will tell you this is a discussion that is especially important considering that the 20th century saw the decolonization of over two thirds of the world. So the next time you interact with a seemingly innocent weather map, road map, or war map, consider the missing layers and elements that were omitted. Think about the thin lines Julie Mehretu uses to lay a foundation. Think about the small individual hatch marks she uses to symbolize the individual. Think about how she would gladly pick up her pens and paint brushes and mark the hell out of your map. – Mike Richison

Send comments to Nick Sousanis, ws@thedetroiter.com

edited by Sumo