Although Redstone Studios has received good press (including a TV spot on
Martha Stewart Living), most clients learn of them by word-of-mouth. Others hear of them and wonder what it is they do. "When we go to parties people want to speak to us, not the brokers, not the bankers," exclaims Brown.
Perhaps it's because their profession is unique. They don't know of anybody else making similar kinds of maps. "People say, 'I'd love to do what you do!' and want to know how to make a map, you know, in three easy steps," says Brown. "I tell them that time -- lots and lots of it -- and curiosity are the magic ingredients. There's some artistic dash and lots of fun in this, but we're scholarly drones who spend hours alone working at a snail's pace, and I don't know how much fun our admirers would find that!"
People are especially curious and intrigued by the idea of biographical mapping. If everybody has a story, everybody's story can be mapped." All significant experiences take place somewhere geographically," Brown says. A more critical view might be that such personal maps are symptomatic of a solipsistic age. Be that as it may, biographical maps are rich terrain, and no one can be like any other.
Recently, for example, Brown did a diaspora map. It mainly depicted Germany and Poland, from whence the family had come, but also included inset maps of Israel, Seattle, France, and the New York skyline. All had personal significance for the family members, especially the individual recipient. Brown calls it an example of a "This Is Your Life!" map.
Most of Redstone's maps are commissioned for men by women. Brown thinks that's because maps are a form of art with which men feel comfortable. Usually, clients have a general notion of what they want. Many of the maps commemorate anniversaries, birthdays, or other significant life events. Ruff and Brown encourage participation, and usually there's lots of it.
"We're almost like biographers," explains Ruff. "It's alchemy for the clients, making their journeys through life hallowed somehow, transfiguring geography," adds Brown. Both point out that there's often a strong psychological component to the process as clients reflect upon their pasts. They send Ruff and Brown personal letters, photographs, and even other maps. They've suggested poems and offered reams of prose.
"We try to hone it down, because we don't want them to look like Liberace maps," explains Brown with a chuckle. The biggest map they've made, of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, was seven feet by ten feet, but most run considerable smaller, averaging three feet by four feet. Prices start at $4,000.
Many maps recount journeys, which isn't surprising, and some clients are hesitant to map beyond the exploration-discovery-travel box. "People think that if they haven't been to the Himalayas," Brown says, "their story isn't exotic enough."
