A quick, confident sweep of ink and color turns a sheet of paper into a personal set of road instructions, the kind meant for a friend rather than for a filing cabinet. Labeled route numbers—R. 47, R. 6, R. 25, R. 59—thread through handwritten place names like Washington, Newtown, Stepney, and Easton, while arrows and short distance notes (“1½” and “3½ mi”) guide the eye along the path. At the lower right, a small sketch of an “Exit 46” sign adds a wry, everyday detail that feels lifted straight from the roadside.
Calder’s hand is visible not only in the words but in the drawing itself: a bold red line hugs the route as if tracing motion, with yellow halos and a circled target-like mark anchoring the destination. The page includes a typed return address reading “CALDER, Painter Hill Road, R.F.D. Roxbury, Conn., U.S.A.” alongside an old-style telephone note, grounding the artwork in ordinary correspondence. Rather than a polished map, it reads as a lived experience—directions remembered, simplified, and made legible through gesture.
Dated in the title as 1949 and addressed from Alexander Calder to Ben Shahn, this piece sits at the intersection of art and communication, where a practical message becomes an expressive document. It offers a glimpse into the networks and travel routines of mid-century American artists, conveyed through an object as ephemeral as mail. For readers searching for Alexander Calder letters, Ben Shahn correspondence, or 1940s artist ephemera, this hand-drawn map stands as both artifact and artwork—intimate, functional, and unmistakably personal.