I spent a probably inordinate amount of time poring over ‘600 Years of Maps of Seoul’ – a hefty compilation of colour plates discovered by Victoria in the KNUA library.
I wanted to get a sense of how the city had evolved; I hoped to uncover traces of its iterations as; the royal seat of an ‘hermit kingdom’, an unwilling protectorate, an ideological battleground, a modern metropolis. The earliest map in the book dates from 1750.
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Map from the Capital Wall to Han River (Cha-Tosŏng Chi-Samgang-do), 1750 overlaid with a satellite image of the city, 2010 |
Perhaps it was because I had just been to Gyeoungbokgung, but the most arresting markings seemed the timeless cataract of mountains that ring the city; Seoul is literally contained by the landscape. I was reminded of Kevin Lynch and his assertion in 'The Image of the City' that:
'A striking landscape is the skeleton upon which many primitive races erect their socially important myths’
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The city is contained by the mountains |
The city’s relationship with its geographic limit is accentuated in pre-colonial maps of the city, which retain a pictorial quality even up to 1900 and lack accurate scale or precision.
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Map of Seoul, 1900, an illustrated landscape... |
Japanese maps obliterate this emphasis early on; by 1910 the landscape is no longer an illustration, the mountains are expressed through meticulous contours. The map is precise, just as it should be.
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Map of Seoul and Yongsan 1910, a measured landscape |
It is a clue about the complexity of the era in question; one that attempted to sever a nation from its traditions but also installed the infrastructure that enabled modernisation.
1 comment:
Fantastic, succinct words, I love how expedient you are with them. . Empty cities, have you been to Belfast?
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