The Fifth Desk · Evaluation

Act I · The Map

Visual art · Oil on canvas · 20th c. · a schoolroom outline map of the United States painted to every edge in loose primaries, the names of the states stencilled in capitals among the strokes

Map

Jasper Johns · oil on canvas, wall-sized · one object: the single canvas of 1961 as it now stands, the flags, targets and numbers before it weighed only as context · the outline map of the contiguous United States run to every edge, its borders painted over in loose strokes and the names of the states stencilled in capitals · 1961 · The Museum of Modern Art, New York · nothing known to be lost, replaced or added by another hand

The Plate · the canvas as a scheme, not drawn to measure: a field of compartments run to every edge, long straight borders at the left for the West and small knotted ones at the right for the Northeast, rows of small blocks for the stencilled names, some clear and some under hatching, and heavy loose strokes with drips crossing the lines; beside it, the layers, the canvas, the given line, the given name and the paint above

Mode

A given sign made a painting; a schoolroom outline map coloured in by the gesture of the decade before

Mythos

The land made a country by its naming, line and letter laid on territory; evoked more than built

Phase

Painted in 1961, between the flags, targets and numbers of the 1950s and the grey canvases of objects and words that followed

Presentation

Oil on canvas, wall-sized; the contiguous United States run to every edge, the borders painted over, the names stencilled in capitals

Register

Cool and ironic; energy at the first sight from the room, delight in the handling up close

Scale

A country seen whole on one wall; dozens of compartments, dozens of words, three primaries

Governing Proposition

The contiguous United States, as an outline map of the kind printed for the schoolroom, fills a wall-sized canvas to every edge; its borders are painted over in loose, dragged and dripped strokes of red, yellow and blue with white and grey, and the names of the states are stencilled in capitals among them, some clear and some half buried. The wager of the painting is that a diagram learned in school can bear the full weight of painting, that the gesture of the decade before is as given a form as the map it colours in, and that a nation known as borders and names can be shown as a convention laid over a ground that does not respect it.

The Line and the Name

7.9 / 10
Tier III · Major

Act II · The Essay

Movement I

Map

Map is dated 1961. It is oil on canvas, a painting the size of a wall, and it hangs in The Museum of Modern Art in New York. What it shows is the outline map of the contiguous United States, the kind printed for the schoolroom, run to every edge of the canvas: the states as compartments, their borders painted over in loose, dragged and dripped strokes, chiefly red, yellow and blue, with white and grey.

Over the borders and among the strokes, the names of the states are stencilled in capitals, some whole and some abbreviated, some left in the clear and some half buried or painted over. The canvas is made of three layers that cannot be separated in the looking: the given line, the given name, and the paint, which colours the line in and runs across it.

The work is this one canvas as it now stands. The flags, targets and numbers that came before it are the tradition it inherits, not part of it, and any other treatment of the map by the painter is context. Which names stand in which colour, how many appear more than once and which are missing are not counted here, and the argument does not rest on them. It rests on the meeting of line, name and stroke, which is everywhere on the surface.

Movement II

Things the Mind Already Knows

Jasper Johns, born in 1930, had made his name with paintings of given flat signs: flags, targets, numbers. He spoke of these as “things the mind already knows”. A sign of that kind needs no invention, and because it is already flat it coincides with the flat canvas, so that the painting and the thing it shows become one object. The decisive move had been made in the flag of 1954 to 1955.

Map takes the same method to a new kind of sign. It is not one emblem but a whole territory, dozens of compartments and dozens of words. The medium changes too, from the slow encaustic of the flags, in which each stroke sets as it cools, to fast oil, wetter and freer. And the gesture of New York painting in the 1950s, the drip and the dragged stroke that the sign paintings had been read as refusing, comes back at full strength.

That return is the turn of the canvas. The gesture is not refused but put to use: it colours in a schoolroom outline. The painting stands in Johns’s work between the sign paintings of the 1950s and the grey canvases of the early 1960s, crowded with objects and words, and it can be read as closing the one or opening the other. Either way it is a large new move on a path the flag had already proved.

Movement III

Oil on Canvas

The border is kept and lost by the brush. In one passage it is drawn as an edge; in the next a crossing stroke erases it, and a stencilled name restores what the stroke took away. That is the canvas’s whole argument in one place, and it happens across the surface: the map is always legible from the room and never secure up close.

In the West the borders are long straight lines and the paint is loosest; it crosses them freely, in wide passages of colour indifferent to the states they cover. In the crowded Northeast, small states, abbreviations and repainting knot together, and the names are pressed into the paint at varied pressure, some crisp, some dragged through wet colour, some overpainted. Where they fall reads as found rather than designed.

The three primaries, with white and grey, are kept at full strength and managed so that no region dominates. From across the room the whole country is one turbulent field, the strongest moment the canvas has; some have read a weather in it, storms crossing the states. Up close it becomes paint and letters. The vocabulary of strokes is borrowed, by design, and narrow; some passages read as filled rather than worked; and the encaustic of the flags shows a finer hand. The command lies in keeping a map legible through so much free painting.

Movement IV

Borders and Names

The nation, as most people know it, is a diagram learned in school: a set of borders and names. The canvas shows that knowledge as a convention laid over a ground that does not respect it. The paint crosses the lines the stencils name, and the lines survive where the names insist on them.

It shows a second convention inside the first. The expressive brushstroke of the decade before had been taken for the trace of a self; here it fills in a schoolroom outline, and the gesture and the diagram turn out to be the same kind of thing, inherited forms. And it shows, as the flags had, that seeing and knowing part company before a known thing: a name is read, and the looking stops. Those last two disclosures were first made in the flags and targets; this canvas restates them on a larger sign.

Under them lies an old pattern, the land made a country by being named, and the canvas is built from exactly the two acts that make a nation’s image, drawing a line and writing a name, with the turbulence that unmakes both. But the pattern is evoked more than raised, and the myth of the nation arrives with the viewer. The canvas holds the state as a schema, the land as an outline, language as shape, the history of painting in its gesture, and the gap between knowing and seeing. No person is in it, no family, no labour, no city, no history of the country it maps, and nothing sacred.

Movement V

Sixty-Five Years

Sixty-five years after it was painted, the canvas is whole: no cut, loss, replacement or later intervention is known, and no condition problem is charged beyond the general risk of thick, dripped oil. It belongs to The Museum of Modern Art and is widely shown and reproduced, steady in accounts of postwar American painting, though the flags stand ahead of it in fame. The political map of 1961 has not changed, and the schoolroom outline has not dated.

The questions it raises are still open: whether it is about America or about painting, and whether that is a difference; whether the returning gesture is homage to Abstract Expressionism, parody or exhaustion; whether it closes the sign paintings or begins what followed; how the given and the made are to be told apart where the names are sometimes the only drawing. Most of them are asked of the sign paintings as a group, and this canvas is seldom their first instance.

Its reach is real and shared. The map became a type in later art, though how far any later map descends from this canvas is not shown, and the pairing of stencilled word and painted field ran on into the word paintings of the decade that followed. The reorganisation that moved the field belongs to the flags. What belongs to Map is the showing that the given sign could hold the gesture it had been thought to refuse, and a country seen whole on one wall.

Act III · The Twelve

1The Inevitable (Ananke)

Judged on the layers the canvas is made of, then on its passages. The given line cannot go: without the borders there is no map and no nation, only a field of primaries, and the wager is that a schoolroom diagram can bear the full weight of painting. The stencilled names cannot go: they are the second given, words as things, and without them the shapes of the states lose the labels by which anyone knows them. The paint cannot go, or the canvas is an enlarged printed outline. What yields is the passage: within a state a red could be a blue, a drip could fall elsewhere, a name could be buried or left clear, and the canvas would know the same thing. The scale is chosen, not compelled. Necessity holds in the design and loosens in the surface.

Score: 7.8 / 10

2The Unconcealment (Aletheia)

Credited through image as fully as through words, and what the canvas shows can be stated. The nation as most people know it is a diagram learned in school, borders and names, and here that knowledge appears as a convention laid over a ground that does not respect it: the paint crosses the lines the stencils name. The expressive brushstroke of the decade before is a convention too, as given as a map, since it is set here to colour in a schoolroom outline. And seeing and knowing part company before a thing the mind already knows: a name is read and the looking stops. These are meanings, not moods. Held below the gate because the second and third were first disclosed in the flags and targets, and are restated here on a new sign at a larger size.

Score: 8.0 / 10

3The Sublime (Hypsos)

There is elevation of one kind, and it is not often high. It is energy: a continent set moving by paint, the borders dissolving and reforming as the eye crosses the canvas, the primaries at full strength at a scale that fills the field of view. The strongest moment is the first sight from across the room, when the whole country is one turbulent surface; some have read a weather in it, storms crossing the states. What holds the axis down is the register. The irony is cool, the source is a school diagram, and the picture refuses grandeur even as it borrows the scale and gesture of a painting that had sought the sublime. There is no terror and little transport: one summit, the whole seen at once, and a level plain of pleasure in the detail.

Score: 7.2 / 10

4The Archetypal Deep (Mythos)

The archetypes are present and largely evoked. The land and its naming: a continent made a country by writing names on it, the old pattern of possession by naming, made literal by letters laid on territory. America as an image of itself: the classroom map every citizen carries, as the flag is the emblem every citizen salutes. Some of this is built, since the canvas is made from exactly the two acts that make a nation’s image, drawing a line and writing a name, and from the turbulence that unmakes both. But the particular stays particular: this map, this decade’s painting, this joke on the classroom. It does not become an image of the earth, of origin or of a people’s story, and the myth of the nation arrives with the viewer rather than being raised by the work.

Score: 7.3 / 10

5The Swerve (Parekklisis)

The inheritance is twofold: the gestural painting of New York in the 1950s, its drips and dragged strokes at full scale; and Johns’s own departure from it in the flags and targets, where a flat given sign coincides with the flat canvas. The turn here is real. The sign is now a whole territory of compartments and words, not one emblem; the medium turns from slow encaustic to fast oil; and the brushwork is let loose, wetter and freer than anywhere in the sign paintings, so that the gesture he had been held to oppose comes back in full and is set to colour in an outline. It was taken at a cost to how his position was read. But the decisive wager, a given flat sign as the whole of a painting, was placed in 1954 to 1955; this is a large new move on a path already proved.

Score: 7.8 / 10

6The Living Form (Entelecheia)

Would another form change what the work knows? Largely. The map is already flat, so the canvas does not picture it: it is a map, painted, as the flag paintings are flags. Paint a picture of a map instead, a sheet lying on a table in space, and the coincidence of sign and support is gone, and with it the claim that the painting and the given thing are one object. The free brushwork against the fixed borders is itself the knowledge: in a form where the lines held, nothing would show how thin the convention is. The stencils are the knowledge too, printed capitals made by hand, the given lettering of the shop and the school. Held below the top because much of what the form knows was known by the form of the flags, and because the size serves the work without being required by it.

Score: 8.5 / 10

7The Bottomless Well (Apeiron)

Evidence over promise: sixty-five years of return, in one of the most visited collections in the world and in a large literature on Johns. The questions stay open. Is the painting about America or about painting, and is that a difference? Is the returning gesture homage to Abstract Expressionism, parody of it, or its exhaustion? Does the canvas close the sign paintings or open the next phase, the canvases of objects, words and greys? How are the given and the made to be told apart in a surface where the names are sometimes the only drawing? It yields at two distances, the map from the room and the paint up close. Held below the top because most of these questions are asked of the sign paintings as a group, and this canvas is seldom their first instance.

Score: 8.1 / 10

8Pressure on Tradition (Agon)

Field: American painting around 1960, at the turn from Abstract Expressionism to Pop and the art of the sign. Intrinsic force: the given-sign method enlarged from an emblem to a territory full of words, and the gesture of the previous generation absorbed into it rather than refused, a move that showed the two could be held in one canvas. The discount is large: the reorganisation that moved the field, the given flat sign, belongs to the flags of the mid-1950s, and much of this canvas’s reach is the reach of that earlier move carried on. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: the map became a type in later art, though how far any later map descends from this canvas is not shown; and its pairing of stencilled word and painted field runs on into the word paintings of the decade that followed.

Score: 8.0 / 10

9The Imperishable (Aphtharsia)

Weighed on form, then presence, then fabric. Form: one canvas, whole after sixty-five years; no cut, loss, replacement or later intervention is known. Presence: in The Museum of Modern Art, widely shown and reproduced, and steady in accounts of postwar American painting; wide, but not the widest, for the painter’s flags stand ahead of it in fame. Fabric: oil on canvas, thick in places and dripped; no condition problem is known, and none is charged beyond the general risk of the medium. The surface is tied to its moment in one respect only, the political map of 1961, which has not changed, and the schoolroom outline it borrows has not dated. The figure sits near the top of what its span allows and is held a step below the widest for presence.

Score: 8.8 / 10

10The Made (Techne)

Judged as command of oil on canvas at wall scale, to the same anchors as any medium. The making is load-bearing. The border is kept and lost by the brush, drawn as an edge in one passage and erased by a crossing stroke in the next, so that the map is always legible from the room and never secure up close. The three primaries, with white and grey, are managed across the whole width so that no region dominates. The stencilled names are set into the paint at varied pressure, some crisp, some dragged through wet colour, some overpainted, and where they fall reads as found rather than designed. The costs: the gestural vocabulary is borrowed by design and narrow by the painter’s own standard, some passages read as filled rather than worked, and the encaustic of the flags shows a finer hand.

Score: 8.5 / 10

11The Inner Law (Cosmos)

Take the two most distant elements: a stencilled abbreviation set crisply in a small eastern state, and a wide passage of loose colour across the West, where the borders are long straight lines and the paint crosses them freely. They obey one law: a given schematic sign, its lines and its names, laid flat to the edges of the canvas, and a painted field that neither illustrates it nor ignores it, but colours it in and runs over it. Every element is that law at some scale; there is no depicted space, no second subject, no mark that is neither given nor gesture. The range is wider than in the single emblems before it: many compartments, many words, small states and large, coast and inland border. But narrowness is not coherence, and the territory is still one sign and one manner of painting it.

Score: 8.4 / 10

12The Encompassed (Megethos)

The orders held are five, and four of them are integrated. The state, as a political schema of borders and names, not as power or people. The land, as the natural order seen only through its coast and outline. Language, as names that are also shapes. Consciousness, in the gap between what the viewer knows and what the viewer sees, which is the work’s real medium. And the history of painting, in the borrowed gesture. These are held in one structure, the given sign and the paint that covers it. What holds the axis lowest is what is absent: no person, no family, no labour, no city, no history of the country the map shows, and nothing sacred. The figure describes the form, a single sign that holds a territory and not the lives within it.

Score: 6.6 / 10

Act IV · The Reckoning

7.9 / 10 · Final Average

Placement: Tier III · Major

Strongest Dimensions

The Imperishable at 8.8, then The Living Form and The Made at 8.5 and The Inner Law at 8.4. A canvas whole after sixty-five years, its political map unchanged and its schoolroom outline undated; a form in which the map is not pictured but painted, so that the free stroke against the fixed border is itself what the work knows; a border kept and lost by the brush across the whole surface, legible from the room and never secure up close; and one law, given sign and painted field, holding every compartment and every word.

Limiting Dimension

The Encompassed at 6.6: the state as a schema, the land as an outline, language as shape, the gap between knowing and seeing and the history of painting in its gesture are held in one structure; the person, the family, labour, the city, the country’s history and the sacred are absent, and the figure describes the form. Below the rest, The Sublime at 7.2 and The Archetypal Deep at 7.3: one summit, the whole seen at once, in a register cool by design; and the naming of the land evoked more than built, the myth of the nation brought by the viewer.

The Necessity Cap clears at 7.8 against a threshold of 7.5, by three tenths. The Coherence Floor clears: The Living Form at 8.5, The Made at 8.5, The Inner Law at 8.4, each against 7.0. The Epochal Gate is unmet on four of its five: The Imperishable at 8.8 clears the bar of 8.5, but The Unconcealment and Pressure on Tradition at 8.0 fall short by five tenths, The Swerve at 7.8 by seven and The Archetypal Deep at 7.3 by more than a point. The Universal Minimum is unmet at The Sublime, 7.2, and The Archetypal Deep, 7.3, both below 7.5; The Encompassed, which it exempts, clears its own floor of 6.0 at 6.6. Three of the five summit conditions are met. The twelve sum to 95.0, an average of 7.917 that displays as 7.9, in the band of Tier III, short of the 8.0 at which Tier IV begins and of the 9.0 that the summit requires; the work stands where its aggregate places it.

Basis · a reading from knowledge of the object as it hangs at The Museum of Modern Art, New York, in 2026 (oil on canvas, dated 1961), of how it was made and of its place in the painter’s work; not from standing before it, and no image or written source was consulted. The work scored is one object, this single canvas as it now stands: no part of it is known to have been lost, replaced or reworked by another hand, and nothing stands in place of an original. The flags, targets and numbers before it are the tradition it inherits, and bear on the work only as context and as the measure of its turn and its reach; the printed map it was taken from, and any other treatment of the map by the painter, are context and are not scored. The painter’s words are quoted once, in the phrase “things the mind already knows”, said of his flags, targets and numbers, which is documented; the title is his. Facts that could not be verified are not given, among them the dimensions, the credit line and the year the museum acquired it, the source of the printed map and how it came to the painter, any earlier or later maps by him and their dates, which states are named on the canvas, in which colours and how often, the exact palette and its mixtures, whether any later intervention has touched the surface, its condition and exhibition history, and which later artists’ maps descend from it.