New York Public Library's Map Division Reopens to Magnificent Splendor

NEW YORK CITY

:The stately bronze arched windows had been darkened with black paint during World War II and remained so. The ornate 20-foot high plaster ceiling in the main reading room bore scars of abuse, dirt and age. Equally ornate black walnut wall panels had been covered with industrial shelving and map cases. The bronze chandeliers deteriorated. Table lamps impeded the opening of large books and maps. In short, just less than a year ago, the map division of the esteemed New York Public Library was a public disgrace.

On Wednesday, December 14, all that changed when the Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division of the New York Public Library re-opened, renewed, restored and retrofitted with the latest in mapping technology.

The renovation is the latest in a decades long project to restore grandeur to the Carrére and Hastings Beaux Arts building that dominates Fifth Avenue from 39th Street to 42nd.

Over the years, while the Map Division excelled in the cataloging of antique and contemporary maps, the facility itself fell into disrepair, for a variety of reasons. Still, nearly 5,000 architects, archeologists, students and movie makers made do, enduring the discomforts while sorting through the Map Division's vast collection of more that 420,000 maps to uncover the topographical, nautical or geologic information they required. When the North East corner suite of three rooms was closed nearly nine months ago, many readers, according to Alice C. Hudson, Chief of the Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division, did not make the move with the staff across the hall to temporary quarters.

"We're thrilled to be back," Hudson said. "The renovation allows us to provide a new level of service to the public."

The re-done facilities incorporate the best of the past with the needs of the present, and foresee even more technological advancements. The architectural firm of Davis, Brody, Bond LLC - responsible for the stunning 1998 recovery of the two block long Rose Reading Room - used every technique available, from spectral analysis to hidden high speed wiring, to make the marriage of architecture and technology work.

Lou Davis, now in his 80s but very much involved in the restoration process, stated, "I consider these rooms mine. They're intimate. Beautiful."

Entering the main reading room from the Library's cavernous stone corridors, one is immediately imbued with a sense of quiet harmony. Reglazed windows capture winter's light, making the room a haven of comfort. Beneath a 20-foot high plaster ceiling that is matched to the original color palette of green and vermillion with Dutch metal and copper leaf accents, and finished with sculptural details of fruit and vegetable forms, seashells, dragons and cherubs, are tables fitted with flat screen computers. Readers can not only access a wealth of information from digitized antiquities to current day satellite images but also use the geospatial mapping software to create maps and manipulate datasets to yield geographic, economic and social information.

Descending from the ceiling, bronze Carrére and Hastings chandeliers shed light. Pin-point beams from recessed fixtures render obsolete the need for table lamps. Restored Welsh quarry tiles hide the electric lines and high-speed cables embedded below. On the wall, digitized images of antique maps complete the ambience.

Adjacent, through a broken pediment arched doorway, is the reference room, to which entrance is limited to credentialed scholars, authors and students. Residing on one of the long map tables is the earliest known pair of English library globes. Overhanging the rectangular room is a balcony with ornamental railings that recall the Golden Age in which they were designed. Reinforced structural support makes it possible for this balcony to float in space, unsupported from below, while bearing the weight of flat files designed for only one purpose - holding books of maps. Everywhere the eye fixes, original details, like the highly carved black walnut panels, recently stripped of paint and refurbished, speak of the glory that was and the pride of place that is.

The re-done rooms are a stunning gateway to the remarkable map collection that dates from the Library's inception, with holdings from the Astor and Lenox libraries. It was named a division in 1947.

During the press preview preceding the ribbon cutting, Hudson showed viewers a 1664 Bleau atlas, one volume of nine that demonstrated just how far the cartographer's craft has advanced. "We think a Times atlas set is a big thing," Hudson mused, "but it took nine of these to cover the world." Open to England, the side panels depict the per-Arthurian kings. The landscapes, however, are Dutch, because the mapmaker was Dutch. "It just depends on who was creating the map," Hudson concluded.

For those who love architecture at its best, the Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division is a "must see." For collectors whose passion encompasses cartography, the New York Public Library offers holdings from important early European makers such as Jean Baptiste Bourguignon d'Anville, Jacques Nicolas Bellin, Willem Janszoon and Joan Bleau, Alexander Darlymple, Hendrick Mercator, Abraham Ortelius, and more.

Notable antiquarian items include a 1661 map by Andreas Cellarius depicting Ptolemy's theory of a geometric universe, in which planets revolve around the earth. There is also a 1705 directional map by Edmund Haley that was the first to use the arrow as a directional signal.

Of the modern world, The Map Division is particularly acclaimed for its New York City and tri-state maps. From the first use of house and building numbers in Nineteenth Century New York City to topographical identification of underground streams and wetlands, there is very little about the Big Apple that has not been charted or that does not reside in the NYPL Map Division.

Most items have been assembled through gifts, and government deposit. A notable addition was the 1997 gift of the Lawrence H. Slaughter collection of maps, atlases, and books about English colonial North America. Collecting, conserving and storing the mostly oversize and often fragile maps is the Division's preeminent challenge and responsibility.

Times change and with them, mapping. As consumers, we are now so position conscious that even cars have digitally voiced maps based on global positioning satellites. Yet the need for study continues. Sands shift. Ocean floors move. Space bends to measurement.

Cartographers work for oil companies, governments, developers - the list is endless. From one map can come multiple opinions about site location, how to proceed, how not to. As long as mankind advances, the need for detailed maps will continue. Now, there is place of splendor as well as substance in which to fuel the fervor for topographical research and nautical charting. It is the restored Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division.

And, in front of the New York Public Library, the lions that New Yorkers know as "Patience" and "Fortitude" appear to be smiling. It's good to know that one of the most recognizable landmark buildings in the world, housing an unparalleled collection, is being restored, room-by-room.