Welcome to Chartography: insights and delights from the world of data storytelling.
A few sundries plucked from social media. Then: I got an early copy of The Globemakers, Peter Bellerby’s new book about his spherical beauties. Let’s take a look!
Sundries
🥵 Simple-charts decorate a series of environmental cards that remind me of 1970s paperback covers. (If only they were distressed.)
There is a “Little Pictures” competition to make more. See details at the European Space Agency.
🖼️ What if Magritte and Escher did a team-up? It might looks like these . . .
. . . made by a “normal tech-savvy AI nerd who experimented with a new controlnet technique” (and does not want to tell us anything else) going by the handle of MrUgleh on Twitter.
📦 I’ve learned quite a lot becoming the publisher of our beautiful Information Graphic Visionaries books—from managing an international team to navigating a global supply chain, all in the midst of crisis.
One thing I did not know is that many readers refuse to purchase a book unless it is on Amazon. They cannot be bothered with anything but its one-click convenience. I’ve been told so straight to my face. So, let’s do something about that.
Today, Visionary Press has an Amazon seller’s account. Our books are now available for purchase to United States readers.
Of course, everyone can still patron our own website (and help us dodge those big box fees):
Bellerby’s World
Until now, owning a slice of Peter Bellerby’s uncompromising sophistication would cost you at least £1,075—the starting price of his 12cm “pocket” globe.
Today, everyone can hold a piece of Bellerby’s magic by way of his new book The Globemakers (Bloomsbury, $27).
I first heard about this project over drinks with Bellerby in a London Spitalfields pub. Today, it’s real. I devoured my review copy.
The book is immediately captivating. It overflows with sensual watercolors and studio photography that should be familiar to all followers of globemakers on Instagram. Informative insets explain geophysics, ancient cartography, the history of exploration, and all of the technology and trades necessary to craft a globe.
These images and sidebars are lovely, but also what you might expect from the cover. What I could not anticipate was the book’s narrative text. And that is what delighted me most.
From my distant vantage in California, Bellerby & Co. is an elegant English establishment. Their globes sell to Harrod’s extravagantly wealthy shoppers. They were endorsed by the Queen, twice! Today, two-dozen artisans produce 600 globes a year under the Bellerby cartouche. Their studio photographs look like they were orchestrated by a Dutch Master. But it wasn’t always so.
The book’s narrative reveals an adventure you cannot find on Instagram.
The story is mostly about Peter Bellerby, mostly by himself, mostly failing as he tries to make his first globes in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis. Chucking carloads of imperfect plaster hemispheres into the dump. Transforming homegrown maps. Wet gores tearing because they were printed against the grain. Mismatched watercolors. Tacky varnish. Foundry alloys that rudely expand and contract with the damp environment. Scrounging for antique wood stock. One-of-a-kind suppliers that go out of business.
It is a years-long journey that no sane person would rationally endure: madness. It happened in a home kitchen, cold warehouses, and stacks of industrial stock. Favorite possessions were sold to keep the pursuit alive. The journey had dozens of easy exits, reasons to compromise or quit altogether. Yet, Bellerby persisted. What kind of person completes this kind of journey?
Today, Bellerby exudes refined elegance, you might even call it posh. It is certainly proper.
Look beyond this surface and you might glimpse the magic: Today, it’s not natural or obvious to create a proper globe. To do so you have to have to be a stubborn maverick. I detect a defiant rebel pulsing inside. And maybe that’s the special blend: one part posh and one part punk.
Bellerby’s unwavering dedication to his vision—his mad determination—is evident in his rationale for hand-engraving their brass meridian rings:
Finding a hand-engraver took several years. Indeed, it seems this may well be an existential point in time for this important craft. Many of the jewellery shops in Hatton Garden and in the West End used to have engravers on their staff; nowadays almost all engraving is done by machine. . . . for me, a handmade globe absolutely needs a hand-engraved meridian.
Every day that Bellerby flailed, he learned more, eventually assembling the talents and formulations necessary to create a handmade globe.
Informationally, reading The Globemakers steps you through Bellerby’s journey of discovery. It educates you along the way in how to make a globe, neatly loading you with appreciation for the work that goes into each of their beautiful works of art. (My inner-engineer salivated at all of the custom machine work.) The book also divulges the marketing talents of Jade, who can be credited for bringing the world’s attention to Peter’s globes. By the book’s end you will consider adding your deposit to their months-long waiting list.
Emotionally, my read had an even more surprising effect on me. It resonated with the same feeling that begins Charlie Chaplin’s call for technological humanism. “We have developed speed, but have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. . . . We think too much, and feel too little.”
Bellerby’s globes prove that our knowledge and understanding can be beautiful, delightful, and enriching. In fact, this is how it used to be: art and science strode hand-in-hand. In contrast, the starkness of today's digital age invokes the outbursts of Charlton Heston. “You maniacs. You blew it up. Damn you! Damn you all to hell!”
Bellerby’s achievement shows not only that tools and objects of information can be glorious, it suggests that perhaps they should be.
There is something quite magical in spinning a globe . . . the truth is, it still gives me a thrill. . . . Without exception, all visitors to the studio treat every globe like a delicate object, first requesting permission to touch it before asking, ‘May I spin it?’ The look of delight on their faces when they do so, very gently, is one of the greatest perks of my job. At that point, it often feels a connection is formed.
Thanks to Peter Bellerby, an extinct art is reborn. Reading The Globemakers left me yearning for a world with more treasures that evoke the same sense of wonder as his globes.
Onward!—RJ
About
Data storyteller RJ Andrews helps organizations solve high-stakes problems by using visual metaphors and information graphics: charts, diagrams, and maps. His passion is studying the history of information graphics to discover design insights. See more at infoWeTrust.com.
RJ’s recently published series, Information Graphic Visionaries, a new book series celebrating three spectacular data visualization creators. With new writing, complete visual catalogs, and discoveries never seen by the public. His first book Info We Trust, How to Inspire the World with Data—will be published in a remastered edition in 2024.