The imaginary world of a mind explorer.
Jorge Macchi

Argentine artist Jorge Macchi certainly likes playing with maps. In his
works we find imaginary maps of the Buenos Aires metro, road maps where all
the buildings have been removed, cities made only of cemeteries.

His large work "Lilliput" is an accidental map of the world. The artist cut
out all the countries in the world, scattered them randomly on a big white
sheet and stuck them into the precise place they fell. Many countries ended
up upside down, thus being harder to spot. Others appear fallen casually as
if they were leaves bobbing in a puddle. It is not the result of an
uncoodinated break-up of continents but rather the result of an unexpected
"big bang". But the randomness of the geographical distribution is balanced
by the millimetric precision of the scale of distances between the various
cities printed in the bottom left-hand corner. And the term millimetre is
particularly apt, since the numbers indicate the precise number of
millimeters that separate various cities on the map. But if, for example,
the 882 millimetres on the scale of distances is what really divides Chicago
from Kabul, then that would mean that what looks like a map is in reality
not a map but a life-sized place. That is why the work is called "Lilliput"
like the legendary island in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels. Because it
is not a world to scale, it is simply a very small world. This implies that
only the limits of our sight and the extremely reduced dimensions of what
now does not appear like a map but like a sort of aquarium, prevents us from
distinguishing within each nation the inhabitants, cars, aeroplanes and
indeed any form of life too microscopic to be seen with the naked eye.
Peering closer at the glass protecting the work we cast a brief shadow over
the surface, darkening four or five countries. Perhaps this gesture of ours
is mistaken by the inhabitants of this miniature world for an enormous cloud
or even an eclipse which darkens part of the earth's surface for a few
seconds.

by Giorgio Guglielmino