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Research by Todd Mohr Much of this information comes from the University of Heidelberg in Germany: The Manesse Codex is a collection of love songs (minnesang) written in Middle High German by a variety of 140 or so contributors, or Minnesangers. The High German word for “love” is minne; a single love song is a minnelied. The songwriters included royals, famous rulers and noblemen, and commoners. The Codex is estimated to have been copied and illustrated between 1305 and 1340 in Zurich, Switzerland. It’s also known as “The Great Heidelberg Book of Songs”, and some have been translated in Barbara Ann Seagrave’s book, Songs of the Minnesangers. Each poet (or songwriter) is depicted alongside their contribution to the Codex, so it looks like your print shows the author: Konrad von Altstetten (more on him later). Below is the color print of your print, estimated date circa 1305-1315. It looks like it includes von Altstetten’s shield and/or a helmet of some kind. This link contains a brief timeline of the Codex’s journey, from its creation to its involvement in several conflicts and thefts throughout later centuries, and finally more recent resting places like libraries, museums, and universities. As far as I can tell, the University of Heidelberg in Germany is the current “keeper” of the Codex Manesse. Who’s Konrad von Altstetten? It doesn’t look like our Romeo is a royal ruler, but he does have his own WikiPedia page. While the Codex Manesse guesses that he might be a “mayor” (of Altstatten, St. Gall, Switzerland, circa 1320-1327), this could be a mistranslation. There is one reference that says Konrad may have been a knight or “steward” of the Altstetten house. He is largely referred to as a Minnesanger, or minstrel - a person who sings songs “advertising” love for a woman. What’s it all mean? People who are more educated on Medieval German imagery than I am have a couple theories on what the art itself may actually mean. The most specific source I’ve found, from the University of Iowa library, claims that the rose bush above Konrad is supposed to be “sprouting from his loins” - a la the “Tree of Jesse”, a representation of Christian genealogy, and apparently a common motif in Medieval art. The falcon might depict a “tamed sexual aggression”. So, this PG-13 image may actually be rated R for Romance! On the other hand, this is one of the more popular prints from the Codex Manesse, and there are several broader interpretations of it. The roses could simply represent love; falconry was a status-symbol activity in the Middle Ages, and both men and women of the aristocracy participated. It could be that the two lovers are just enjoying each other’s company after returning from a hunt. While they aren’t included in your print, the shield and family crest/helmet/whatever it might be above the happy couple could be Konrad’s “heraldic devices”. Maybe armor back then was actually very sexy? The song: Although I couldn’t find anything via the University of Heidelberg, some random site seems to actually have a copy of one of Konrad von Altstetten’s minnelied. As best as I can tell with Google Translate (and the internet has many warnings about the accuracy of translating High German to modern German to English), one song is titled “Loblied der Libstein”, or “Praise of Loved Ones”, and it goes something like this: “Praise of Loved Ones” “I have sent my heart to my beloved; Because longing pain Never sees it stolen Unless grace gives me the one. I am alone from that which Conquers me. Go, Empress, To my grace That your love Relieves me of my complaints; Let me rejoice in your love and goodness. That, in my mind, disappears the pain. Who, then, shall turn to me? The sadness in my mind, Do you not want it to end? With feminine kindness, You, who I remember in the evening, and in the morning I live in grief, I complain like always. Should I not look at her? It increases my suffering; I do not like to gaze on other women. No other face has ever shone so wonderfully; No stars flicker, Or shine purer in the lake I never saw a flower in the thaw more beautiful Than her, my wife. I sing glory to her! And I sing how beautiful she is in body and soul, Nothing I miss then, I stand in joy!” There may be mistranslations in certain words or phrases, because we don’t know what the original words meant in contextual High German. I think I read that the University of Heidelberg is still in the process of transcribing the Codex Manesse, so hopefully we can do some more digging and get a more accurate Minnelied to accompany the print!

The Americas, or a New and Precise Description of the Fourth Part of the World, Antwerp, 1562, Diego Gutiérrez, cartographer, and Hieronymus Cock, engraver, courtesy of the Library of Congress. The late fifteenth-century landfall by Christopher Columbus on the island of Guanahani, in the Bahamas, forced open the gates to a whole new world for the Spanish and other European explorers. America, as it came to be called, became the destination for numerous expeditions and adventures from 1492 onward. Through papal bulls in 1493 and the famous Treaty of Tordesillas between Spain and Portugal in 1494, the two Iberian powers laid claim to the entire Western Hemisphere, although to them the newly found lands were extensions of Asia, or islands off its coasts. During the next seventy years, a veritable avalanche of individual and state-supported efforts ensued to discover, explore, and understand the fullness of America, although initially the efforts were concentrated along its extensive coastlines. Exploratory forays continued well into the eighteenth century until every segment of America, from Canada to Tierra del Fuego, was visited and studied. In sixteenth-century Europe, authoritative knowledge of the geography of America was based upon the observations of primarily Spanish- and Portuguese-sponsored explorers and navigators, as interpreted and plotted by official cosmographers and cartographers of the crowns of Spain's new overseas empire. As Europe's vision of trade and land acquisition shifted from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean, the information that this institution acquired about its new territories was vital to Spain's world power status. Comprehensive changes in long-held geographical concepts were produced as practical observation countered time-honored ideas about the shape of the world and the areas that comprised it. In 1562 Diego Gutiérrez, a Spanish cartographer from the respected Casa de la Contratación, and Hieronymus Cock, a noted engraver from Antwerp, collaborated in the preparation of a spectacular and ornate map of what was then referred to as the fourth part of the world, America. It was the largest engraved map of America to that time. Substantial mystery surrounds this map more than four hundred years after its creation. Confusion over its authorship, the location of its printing, and the reasons even for its preparation remains. The fact that only two known copies of this printed map are extant, one located in the Library of Congress (Washington, D.C.) and the other preserved in the British Library (London) no doubt contributes to our lack of knowledge about this valuable and authoritative depiction of Spanish dominion in its new world, America. Entitled Americae sive quartae orbis partis nova et exactissima descriptio. (Auctore Diego Gutiero Philippi Regis Hisp. etc. Cosmographo. Hiero Cock Excude. 1562) , the map depicts the eastern coast of North America, all of Central and South America, and portions of the western coasts of Europe and Africa. While only a longitude scale appears, it is clear that the map covers an area bounded between 0° and 115° longitude west of Greenwich, and 57° north and 70° south latitude. While a latitude scale does not appear, the Equator and the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn are clearly shown and measurements between these fixed latitudes can assist in determining distances for the entire map. Six engraved sheets are neatly joined to form a single map which measures 93 by 86 centimeters. Because this map ends abruptly on the east and the west and the ornamental border on the Library of Congress copy appears only at the top and the bottom of the map, one might believe that a world map was planned, of which only the American part was completed. However, this map contains a unique title identifying America as the fourth part of the world. It seems logical that only a map of the Western Hemisphere was intended and rendered. It is apparent that one of the intentions in preparing the map was to define clearly Spain's America for the other European powers who might have designs on the region. The map provides a richly illustrated view of an America filled with images and names that had been popularized in Europe following Columbus's 1492 voyage of discovery. Images of parrots, monkeys, mermaids, fearsome sea creatures, cannibals, Patagonian giants, and an erupting volcano in central Mexico complement the numerous settlements, rivers, mountains, and capes named. According to Ruth Putnam, in California: The Name (Berkeley, 1917), the Gutiérrez map contains one of the earliest references to California, for on it " C. California" is located on the southern tip of Baja California. The map correctly recognizes the presence of the Amazon River system, other rivers of South America, Lake Titicaca, the location of Potosí and Mexico City, Florida and the greater southeastern part of the United States, and myriad coastal features of South, Central, North, and Caribbean America. It was to be the largest printed Spanish map of America to appear before the late eighteenth century. There are three coats of arms on the Gutiérrez map: in the lower right, in the Atlantic Ocean east of Argentina is the coat of arms of the crown of Portugal, and Portuguese interests in India are noted in the Eastern Atlantic "La Flota De Portugal Que Va Par Calicute". In the southeastern and southwestern parts of what is now the United States are two coats of arms: the one on the left is that of the Spanish Habsburg Empire; to its right is that of the French crown. Gutiérrez's Americae is an official map, recognizing both Philip II, King of Spain from 1556 to 1598, and his half-sister Margarita de Parma, Regent of the Netherlands from 1559 to 1562. The following inscription (in Latin on the map) gives evidence, seventy years after Columbus's historic voyage, of the popular belief that Americus Vespucius discovered America in 1497: "This fourth part of the world remained unknown to all geographers until the year 1497, at which time it was discovered by Americus Vespucius serving the King of Castile, whereupon it also obtained a name from the discoverer." The map has been used as evidence in two South American boundary disputes. It was reproduced in part in Frontières entre le Brésil et la Guyane Française. Mémoire présenté par les États Unis de Brésil. Atlas (Paris, 1899) and Juicio de límites entre el Perú y Bolivia. Prueba peruana presentada al gobierno de la República Argentina por Victor M. Maurtua. Atlas (Barcelona, 1906). A tracing of it was made in the nineteenth century by Johann Georg Kohl for his hand-copied collection of maps in European libraries and archives for the study of the discovery, exploration, and mapping of North America, now in the Geography and Map Division, Library of Congress. The Library of Congress's copy of the Gutiérrez map was formerly in the collection of the Duke of Gotha in Germany. Sold at a 1932 auction in Munich, it was subsequently acquired by an American book dealer who sold it to Lessing J. Rosenwald, the well-known collector of illustrated books. The Gutiérrez map was among the items received when Mr. Rosenwald gave a portion of his collection to the Library of Congress in 1949. Diego Gutiérrez was a cosmographer at the Casa de la Contratación, in its office of Pilot Major. His father, also named Diego Gutiérrez , was the head of a Sevillean family map- and instrument-making business from the early part of the sixteenth century until his death in 1554. The elder Diego Gutiérrez , also a map maker of note, became associated with the work of the Casa de la Contratación and catered to the navigational information needs of navigators and pilots engaged in that extraordinary time of exploration and travel to America, practically at its inception in the early part of the sixteenth century. The mapmaker Diego Gutiérrez had been named cosmographer in the Casa de la Contratación by a royal appointment on October 22, 1554, following the death of his father Diego in January 1554. He received a salary of 6,000 maravedis because of his known ability to make navigational charts and other nautical instruments. On the famous 1562 map of America he is identified as the "Auctore Diego Gutiero Philippi Regis Hisp. Etc." That is, "Diego Gutiérrez , cosmographer at the time of the reign of Philip II of Spain." He served as a cosmographer in the Casa de la Contratación from 1554 to at least 1569, according to documents in theArchive General de Indias in Seville. He was among a number of cartographers in the Casa de la Contratación, known as cosmographers, including Alonso de Chaves (Pilot Major), Francisco Falero, Jersnimo de Chaves, Sancho Gutiérrez (Diego's brother), and Alonso de Santa Cruz. Diego Gutiérrez was distinguished from the rest as "oficial de hacer cartas de marear" ["an official who makes sea charts"]). Diego's brother, Sancho Gutiérrez, became a cosmographer in the Casa on May 18, 1553. The engraver of the map, Hieronymus Cock, was a Flemish artist of recognized talent who worked in Antwerp. He has been considered one of the most important engravers and printmakers in Europe in the sixteenth century. In the second half of the sixteenth century, Antwerp became the major center for the production of prints and books in the Low Countries. Cock was the son of Jan Wellens or Willems, alias Cock, and had a brother, Mathias Cock; they were both noted painters. Born at Antwerp in 1510, Cock was admitted to the Guild of St. Luke as a master painter in 1545 and later engaged in engraving and print selling. Between 1546 and 1548 he studied in Rome, where he was influenced by the work of the noted artists and printmakers Antonio Salamanca and Antonio Lafrery. In Antwerp in 1548 Cock established the shop Aux Quatre Vents [To The Four Winds]. Between 1548 and the time of his death in 1570 he carried on a very successful business, popularizing art through his engravings of the finest works of the Dutch masters. In 1550 Cock prepared his first engraving of ruins of Ancient Rome, followed by twenty-four plates of the ruins in May 1554. He engraved various works in honor of Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain, including the "Pompa funebris" in 1559, depicting the funeral cortege organized in Brussels in 1558 by Philip II in honor of his father. Cock in 1555 engraved portraits of Philip II and Maria and Maximillian II of Austria. He engraved a portrait of Charles V in 1556 and produced the Divi Caroli V imp. opt. max. victoriae, in 1563, a series of twelve engravings illustrating the triumphs of that emperor. Cock engraved several maps, including those of Leiden (1550), Piedmont (1551), Sicily (1553), Turkey and Persia by Castaldo (1555), Siena (1555), Ostia (1557), an Antwerp bird's-eye view (1557), Siege de Saint-Quentin (1557), Ypres (1562), Hableneuf (1563), Malta (1565), Bourgogne by Ferdinand de Launoy (1562), and the Holy Land by Petru Laicksteen (1562) in addition to the 1562 America map. He engraved several of the maps for Abraham Ortelius's Theatrum Orbis Terrarum, published in 1570 by the Plantin Press in Antwerp and is cited in Ortelius's Catalogus Auctorum Tabularum Geographicarum. His engravings also appeared in Jacob van Deventer's Nederlansche Steden, Braun and Hogenberg's Civitates Orbis Terrarum, and Sebastian Münster's Cosmographia. In order to invest his business with an official status and obtain privileges, Cock had as his patron the powerful Antoine Perrenot, Cardinal de Granvelle (1517-1586), to whom some of Cock's prints are dedicated. His widow carried on the business after his death in 1570. Facts concerning the distribution of the 1562 map of America or the number of copies prepared are not known. It would seem that a substantial number of copies of the map must have been printed since it was intended to define authoritatively boundaries of Spain's sphere of influence in America while, simultaneously, recognizing the French and Portuguese presence. It is ironic that in the 1560s, following the issuance of the map, Spain was forced to reinforce its presence along the northern Atlantic coast in North America. In 1562 France began to colonize sites in what are now South Carolina and Florida, threatening Spain's exclusive control in the area. It is possible that the map was produced, at the request of official Spain, through Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle who was the Spanish negotiator of the 1559 Treaty of Cateau Cambrésis. As was mentioned earlier, Granvelle was the patron of much of Cock's printing in Antwerp. That treaty between France and Spain, and a separate one by the same name between France and England brought to a close nearly thirty years of constant warfare in Western Europe. And the recognition of Philip II on the map, to whom Gutiérrez was cosmographer, indicated that the map itself probably was prepared after 1556, when Charles V abdicated the throne in favor of Philip II and retired to the Monastery of Yuste in Extremadura. Charles died on September 21, 1558. The April 3, 1559 Treaty of Cateau Cambrésis between Spain and France is a key event in the map's preparation. That treaty and another signed on April 2, 1559 between France and England are known collectively as the Peace of Cateau Cambrésis. Those treaties contained the most comprehensive agreements drawn up before the Peace of Westphalia in the seventeenth century, thus effectively establishing legal and political status quo for Western Europe for ninety years. Concluded with the treaty was a French-Spanish agreement, namely the marriage of Elizabeth of Valois, daughter of Henry II, King of France, to Philip II in the summer of 1559. The marriage alliance between the two kingdoms is possibly an explanation for the very close positioning of the coats of arms of Spain and France on the Gutiérrez map. An apparent oral agreement between French and Spanish negotiators at Cateau Cambrésis concluded that the geographical parameters of the treaty were not to extend to non-European areas, for example, in America, where the French claimed the right to trade, which Spain denied. One of the noteworthy omissions in the Gutiérrez map of America is the absence of the famous line of demarcation. This hypothetical vertical line in the Atlantic Ocean served as the division between Spanish and Portuguese possessions in America. West of the line were Spain's areas of influence. In the Gutiérrez map the most prominent line of demarcation is not a vertical line but rather a parallel or horizontal line, representing the Tropic of Cancer at 23° 30' N. One would have expected instead the parallel of Cape Bojador at 26° N, which passes south of the Canaries, and was used by Pope Martin V in the fifteenth century to grant exclusive privileges to the Portuguese southwards down the African coast, and by Pope Nicholas V in Romanus Pontifex (1455) and in all subsequent bulls on the subject of spheres of influence. But the latitudinal line mentioned in the 1559 Treaty of Cateau Cambrésis and prominently shown on the Gutiérrez map was that of the Tropic of Cancer. But why was the famous vertical line of demarcation, that line separating Europe from America, not referred to in the treaty of Cateau Cambrésis and on the map? Diplomatic documents after the 1559 treaty state simply that Spain's sphere of influence is south of the Tropic of Cancer and west of the prime meridian. But not knowing what prime meridian creates a problem with ascertaining the location of the line of demarcation. Was it to be the line given in the Papal Bull of 1493 or that in the Treaty of Tordesillas of 1494; and for that matter which island in the Atlantic Ocean was to be used as the eastern terminus from which the distance to the line of demarcation was to be determined? There was no agreement upon which privilege was to be accepted, and even individual treaties remained unclear when references were made to the easternmost starting point, whether west of the meridian of Ferro or Pico in the Azores or one of the Cape Verde Islands. In the sixteenth century, no one could determine longitudes across the oceans with more than a rough approximation of accuracy. From the outset of the diplomatic history of the Americas, it was concluded by diplomats, as well as distinguished Spanish jurists and theologians, that the Pope in Rome had no right to give away what did not belong to him, and that the only valid claim that Spain could assert to any part of America was to those areas it effectively occupied. In their sixteenth- and seventeenth-century relations with Spain, other European powers, with the exception of Portugal, recognized only one line, and that was the Tropic of Cancer. And Spain had chosen to use that line without regard for papal donations, for practical reasons. Navigators could easily ascertain the location of the Tropic of Cancer. What made it particularly useful was that Cancer ran through the Straits of Florida with the safest channel well on its Cuban, or southern, side. So no ship could enter West Indian or Caribbean waters, not even the Gulf of Mexico, without crossing the Tropic of Cancer. Spain was vitally interested in preserving the monopoly of its American trade and the safety of its silver and gold fleets. Until 1559 the only serious threat to its monopoly was France, and no sooner did French interlopers and corsairs begin to be a nuisance than measures began to be taken to pursue and eliminate them anywhere below the Tropic of Cancer. The normal relation between Spain and France, especially before 1559, had been war. Above the Tropic of Cancer, Spain's interests and ambitions were more limited. It at times lay claim, through expeditions and colonization attempts, to that area and its offshore islands on the grounds of Pope Alexander's 1493 bull. But its primary concern was to safeguard its treasure fleets and prevent the establishment of potentially hostile bases. With the map and the treaty of Cateau Cambrésis, Spain and France acknowledged areas of possession in America. At the time of the map the ill-fated French settlement of Nicolas de Villegaignon in Portugal's Brazil, following France's 1555 establishment of its "La France Antarctique" in Guanabara Bay, was under continuous attack by the Portuguese until it was removed in 1567. South of the Tropic of Cancer. Spain had firm control in its America. But from the Florida Keys northward Spain had not effectively placed its flag. In the 1560's in present-day South Carolina and Florida, the most ambitious effort to test Spanish resolve occurred. In 1562 a new French colony was established in Florida under Jean Ribaut and René de Laudonniére only to be destroyed by the Spanish in 1565 with the subsequent establishment of the first permanent settlement in what is now the United States, Saint Augustine, as a protective station for the Spanish gold fleet returning from America to Spain. Gutiérrez 's magnificent 1562 map of America was not intended to be a scientifically or navigationally exacting document, although it was of large scale and remained the largest map of America for a century. It was, rather, a ceremonial map, a diplomatic map, as identified by the coats of arms proclaiming possession. Through the map, Spain proclaimed to the nations of Western Europe its American territory, clearly outlining its sphere of control, not by degrees, but with the appearance of a very broad line for the Tropic of Cancer clearly drawn on the map The Gutiérrez map of America has rarely gained the recognition and the study that it deserves. Perhaps its uniqueness, with only two known copies extant, has contributed to its relative obscurity in cartographic literature. Or, it is possible that the controversy over who actually made the map, whether the father or less well-known son, has confused researchers. But, for whatever reason that limited information is known about this large map of America, it is hoped that this facsimile of the map in the Library of Congress's Geography and Map Division can generate interest in further research on Diego Gutiérrez and his 1562 map of America. Perhaps then this magnificent map can enter its proper rank among the cartographic treasures of the early years of European exploration of America. Dr. John R. Hébert, Chief, Geography and Map Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

The idea behind replicating this set of stone carvings was to pay tribute to the Picts, who inhabited Scotland before the Scots arrived from Ireland. They left us no writing, but expressed their world view in other ways. The images are called by their scientific names at the request of the archaeologist who presented them to me for publication. I realized them as a single linoleum block print in a limited edition of 250 copies. I now have printed the last of the edition. Success! Lots of supporters have this piece in their homes. At the top, the head of the piece, is the Geomorphic knotwork. It is the abstraction of the world, shown as circular, with the four corners indicated. It is (by far) the most popular style of Celtic knotwork, representing the inter-related complexity and connectivity of the world. People are represented by the Anthropomorphic ornament, probably showing the idea of a rite-of-passage dance of youths. Locking legs and arms in a circular dance (most likely consisting of a large number of initiates) would require practice, coordination, cooperation and strength. Animals are shown next by the Zoömorphic ornament. Wonderful lizard-like creations hint at the vast panorama of animal life that is crucial to the well-being of humankind. At the bottom, the base of living earth, are the Plants, the Vine-scroll ornament. The idea of the vine is scroll-like, linking the plant to all living things. The four orders of the world, each semi-independent, yet intrinsically related, reveal a culture that was independent, relying on the inclusivity of its members. Many on-line texts well worth reading describe the interactions of the Picts and the Scots. Some suggest Macbeth vs Duncan as the borderline. I used Amazon green printer’s oil-based ink and Kozo paper from Japan. This paper allows the printmaker to see the ink entering the fibers, providing great control. The ink was applied with a brayer. The raised border around the four images allows for even inking, but is outside the image area, and is not visible when the print is matted. I spoon-rubbed each print with moderate pressure. The back looks faint, but even, but the front looks great! The end of the edition means that I can focus on new projects. Hopefully these Celtic designs will sell out soon!

Thor and the Midgard Serpent is a limited edition fine art replica print © 2006 Allen Bjorkman after an illumination, Iceland, 1765-66. The tradition of making copies of Viking sagas by hand continued in Iceland until relatively modern times. I carved this linoleum block and hand printed it in a limited edition of 250 copies. The photo shows the very first print pulled. "Thor's Fishing Trip" was compiled from various sources. Text translation: "Thor rows out with the Giant Hymir and pulls up the Midgard Serpent and purposefully strikes it with his hammer Mjollinar, just as the story says." Thor's Fishing Trip According to Norse tradition the World Serpent (Jormungandr) was one of three monstrous children of Loki (the trickster god) and the giantess Angrboda. The serpent grew at an alarming rate and the gods threw him into the sea. In the depths of the ocean the serpent continued to grow until he encircled the earth and lay with his tail in his mouth. The Edda reads: "Thor disguised himself as a young boy and paid a visit to the Giant Hymir. During Thor1s stay Hymir decided to go on a fishing trip. Thor wanted to go with him and Hymir reluctantly agreed providing that his guest find his own bait. Thor found Hymir's biggest ox and pulled its head off. They both set out to sea in Hymir's fishing boat. Thor rowed out too far and Hymir began to panic in case the Midgard Serpent should attack them. Thor got out the ox1s head, fastened it to a sturdy hook and hurled it over the side. The serpent took the bait straight away and pulled back in fury as the hook bit into its mouth. Thor exerted his divine strength, his feet reaching to the bottom of the sea, and drew the writhing serpent up to the boat. Fearing for his life Hymir cut the line allowing the serpent to escape. Furious, he knocked Hymir into the sea. The serpent sank into the sea. But Thor threw his hammer after it, and they say that he struck off its head by the sea-bed. But I (Snorri Sturluson) think in fact the contrary is correct to report to you that the Midgard Serpent lives still and lies in the encircling sea."

The Foolscap Map of circa 1590 O caput elleboro dignum. The world in the head of a fool. The map-maker has depicted the folly of globalization. I compiled the following description of the image from various sources. The Fool was a court figure allowed to mock majesty and to speak truth to power. The message imparted by this map is that the world, now including the New World, is seen as foolish; globalization remains a controversial topic to this day. The legend in the left panel reads "Democritus of Abdera laughed at [the world], Heraclitus of Ephesus wept over it, Epichtonius Cosmopolites portrayed it". Over the cap is the Latin version of the Greek dictum, "Know thyself". Across the cap’s brow, the inscription translates as "O head, worthy of a dose of hellebore". The Latin quote just above the map is from Pliny the Elder and reads "For in the whole universe the earth is nothing else and this is the substance of our glory, this is its habitation, here it is that we fill positions of power and covet wealth, and throw mankind into an uproar, and launch wars, even civil ones". The quote below the map is from Ecclesiastes: "The number of fools is infinite", as is the quote on the jester’s staff to the right: "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity". Inscribed on the badges adorning the shoulder belt are: "Oh, the worries of the world; oh, how much triviality is there in the world, Everyone is without sense, and All things are vanity: every man living". For some researchers, the sum of these messages, as well as their presentation in a cartographic setting, point to a Christian sect called the Family of Love. This group is said to have included the Flemish cartographer Abraham Ortelius, whose world map resembles this representation. The name written in its top left corner, Orontius Fineus, is the Latinised version of the French name Oronce Finé who was associated with a map dated 1531, purportedly showing an ice-free, river-rich Antarctica, and another showing the world in a heart-shaped projection dated 1534. Finé died in1555. Inscribing the name of this cartographer on a map made decades later is an unsolved mystery. The Heart Map is a wonderful projection., but the Foolscap Map is my favorite. I wonder just how aware the artist was about all the ramifications of globalization. We can look back and see that the operations of the silver mines in South America exacerbated slavery and that the huge exporting of silver ruined economies in Europe; that the export of corn profoundly altered the agriculture of Asian societies, and that the European colonization of the Americas destroyed indigenous civilizations. What did this artist realize? Was he a visionary? I'm impressed.

Ok, here's what led up to my decision to get down from the tree and make art (see "How my Art Career Began"). The decision to make a career change was difficult because I have a real passion for libraries. I had started a free library in Ikole, Ekiti, Nigeria, when I was in the Peace Corps, and I wanted to get a degree in Library Science so I could get books and other information to more people. I was studying at Simmons School of Library Science and working part time at various branches of the Boston Public Library. The North End branch was named for an ancestor of my step-family, Clara Cushman, who was a world-famous Shakespearean actress. Neat coincidence, right? I worked there for a while and then I was off to the South End Branch. What a difference! besides being a traditional library, it had become a place of refuge for alcoholics in a troubled community wrestling with poverty. We had lots of "street people" in there who were just surviving. The South End, by the way, is where our Wayzgoose Studios was located. The neighborhood has since become gentrified. This library was an information source and connecting point for the too few social services that were available. Our main tools were the Yellow Pages of the phone book and personal relationships. I was intrigued with the idea that was just beginning to be articulated about having computer-based neighborhood centers that would serve the various needs of any community. I met the amazing Jonathan Kozol. I wanted to get a job that would fit in with my vision, but the best of I got from job interviews was that after graduation, I could be a cataloger of images at the Folger or a traditional reference librarian in my home town of Worcester. So I climbed up a tree. My story must include a long overdue thank you to Penny Mattern for the time I spent with her as undergrads at Clark University, in the Peace Corps, and in marriage. She supported my desire to drop out of Grad School and to become an artist, and she introduced me to linoleum block printing, and she provided two years of financial support that enabled me to build up enough stock to begin selling my images. That, my friends, is privilege. The Renaissance Replica opus began with The Bathers. My friend John was working at the Houghton Rare Book Library at Harvard, and he showed me some examples of early printed woodcuts. I was inspired. I was able to photocopy some images from Schramm's extensive catalogs of incunabula. I carved my first Renaissance replica linoleum block of a woodcut that was in a 1498 Calendar. We ended up making a Calendar of our own, printing each page on the hand press. That first image of the Bathers was just so much fun to recreate! John also introduced us to Sheldon Silver whose rare book collection was world-class. He showed us many examples and encouraged me to practice tasteful typography. I made a few books, notably the Bigger Word Alphabet, and The Bird Book at Wayzgoose. I dropped out of Grad School and have been making images ever since.

How My Art Career Began (or How I Killed Leonard Bernstein) It was in May, as I remember, in Boston, and I'm almost certain that the year was 1969. I was a graduate student at Simmons School of Library Science, and was having profound doubts about my career choice. During the winter before, I had become involved with two other librarians in opening a private art studio. We could only afford to purchase one piece of equipment, so we had drawn lots: Penny wanted a loom, I wanted a potter's wheel, and John wanted a printing press. John won. We called the place Wayzgoose Studios (it was in a basement storefront on St. Botolph Street), and working on the press was great. John taught us how to set type, and Penny showed me how to cut linoleum blocks for prints. Soon we were making art prints and limited edition books. I spent more and more time in the studio. One morning in May (or was it June?) I was taking my customary walk to school from my apartment in the Fenway section (where there are gardens, a park, the Museum of Fine Arts, the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum, Fenway Park, etc). It was a gorgeous day, and the trees were just beginning to blossom. I lingered under a large tree for a while, briefcase in hand, dressed in jacket and tie, as joggers and dog-walkers passed by. The weather the next day was just as beautiful, and this time I decided to climb up this particular tree for a few minutes. It was the third day that I ended up sitting in the tree for quite a while. The unresolved question of career choice was causing me to stall out. I didn't want to attend classes. I didn't want to go to the studio. I was just enjoying this wonderful old maple tree. It looked a lot like this stock photo. One of the joggers I had previously observed was Leonard Bernstein, and to my surprise, he trotted over to the tree and stopped. He lit up a cigarette, and without looking up, asked me what I was doing up there in a jacket and tie. I told him about my indecision, and he told me that I had already decided; I just didn't know it yet. He said that a librarian in a jacket & tie was unlikely to climb a tree, but that it was a perfectly usual thing for an artist to do. I thanked him: I told him how the perspective he brought to me as an uninvolved observer, and his resultant clarity of perspective, made my choice seem so obvious to him, just as his conflict seemed so obvious to me. He asked me what conflict I had observed, and I answered that it was likely that the healthful effects of jogging would be cancelled out by smoking. He said he would quit jogging. From this event, my art career began. I dropped out of graduate school and have been a full-time artist ever since. Leonard Bernstein died of lung cancer in 1990. I really don't think of myself as his murderer. I'm sure that he knew what the consequences of smoking were, but I do remember the event as a tragic-comedy lurking behind the scenes of my past. Many years later, I was exhibiting my work near DC and had this story open in my notebook of information, when Stephen Sondheim happened by and saw the title. We chatted very briefly. Among other remarks, he said that Bernstein had related the story more than once, albeit from his own perspective.