Author’s note: I
would like to express my gratitude to Professor Charles Burnett (The Warburg
This essay aims to examine Aby Warburg’s Mnemosyne Atlas
according to two conceptual perspectives that
seem deeply interwoven, Deleuze and Guattari’s notion of rhizome and Michel
Serres’s metaphor on Hermes. Both theoretical approaches cast light on the
epistemological implications of the Mnemosyne Atlas and explore its
intriguing composition from an innovative point of view. Specifically, this
paper excavates the disrupted nature of the Warburgian Atlas, paying particular attention to the schizophrenic
proliferation of unexpected connections. In this scenario, it will be necessary to elucidate the
terminological opposition between ‘atlas’ and ‘archive,’ as studied by Boris Groys, Foucault, and Derrida, without leaving aside
Didi-Huberman’s pioneering research on Warburg.
archive; cartography; Gilles
Deleuze; Félix Guattari; Hermes; Mnemosyne
Atlas; rhizome; schizophrenia; Michel Serres; Aby Warburg
1. Warburg’s rhizomatic anti-method
“Comment organiser l’interdisciplinarité?”
When Aby Warburg was twenty years old, he traded
his birthright as the firstborn son in exchange for his
brother’s promise to
buy him books for the compiling of a library. The result of such an exchange
was the world famous
KWB Warburg Library of Hamburg. Its founder articulated the collection
following an apparently random order that
did not fit a uniform pattern. The books were displayed on the shelves with no
regard to any homogeneous model; Warburg
himself constantly changed the location of the books. In doing so, Warburg
intended to invite visitors to make inspiring connections between diverse
topics and generate new ideas when going
through the corridors full of books.
In fact, the library
did not work according to any standard cataloguing system. To a certain extent, it could be said that the library took on a life of its own.
“In brief, Warburg orders the Library in such a way that it ‘wants not only to
speak, but also to listen attentively’….”
By the same token, from 1924 to his death in 1929, Warburg devoted his efforts
to a specific project that went in tandem
with the library,
the Mnemosyne Atlas. Composed of sixty-three mobile panels, the Bilderatlas,
as it is also called, put hundreds of photographs related to several research
by side. The purpose of such an apparatus was to ultimately
build up a transversal history of the survival of psychological expression in
What is interesting about the Atlas
is that Warburg frequently changed the position of these pictures, removing and
detaching them according to the development of his own scientific work.
“He repeatedly rearranged these images, just as he repeatedly rearranged the
books in his library and even the order of words and phrases in his written
As can be seen, the Mnemosyne Atlas is not properly a book or
atlas in the traditional sense. It is rather a deconstructive space, a milieu
for contrast and dialogue, and a
battleground of images and mutable concepts that
proceeds according to connections and disjunctions. As is well known, Warburg
called such mechanism the "law
of the good neighbor."
For his part, Georges Didi-Huberman, who has carried out exhaustive research
into the Atlas of Aby Warburg,
alludes to a dialectical montage aimed at dealing with discontinuities and
partial knowledge. In Didi-Huberman’s view, Warburg shows a destructive
paradoxically makes room for the appearance of creative relations. Thus, thanks
to this anti-method,
Warburg promotes the arousal of unpredictable events within the epistemological
realm. In this context, it is highly significant that Warburg’s disorganized
procedure bears a strong resemblance to Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari’s
As it is put by those authors, a rhizome is not a root and neither a tree, both of which grow vertically. On
the contrary, the rhizome grows horizontally, connecting and disconnecting
In this respect, Deleuze and Guattari distinguish some rhizomatic
principles: the principle of connection and heterogeneity, the principle of
multiplicity, and the principle of asignifying rupture. As they say, the
rhizome works by means of productive sequences and connective discontinuities
(‘and… and… and…’). In the words of Simon O’Sullivan:
A rhizome is a system, or anti-system, without centre
or indeed any central organising motif. It is flat system in which the
individual nodal points can, and are, connected to one another in a
non-hierarchical manner. A rhizome then fosters transversal connections and
communications between heterogeneous locations and events.
Thus, it is possible to state
certain similarities between the Bilderatlas and the rhizome, inasmuch
as they share the same fragmentary connectivity. Put bluntly, the law of the
good neighbor works mostly the same as the rhizome. To quote Deleuze and
Guattari, “any point of a rhizome can be connected to anything other, and must be.
This is very different from the tree or root, which plots a point, fixes an
This is also the case of Warburg’s methodology, which disrupts hierarchical
structures in favor of nondefined assemblages. The Atlas of Aby Warburg is produced in an unorganized manner, so the
result is not an organism but,
above all, a vague entity, a diffuse
body of knowledge. As Peter Krieger has remarked, this is not inconvenient for
epistemological purposes, in the sense that the law of the good neighbor opens
a wide range of promising paths.
So Warburg breaks with fixed structures in his Atlas,
as he already did in his library, being aware that every pre-established order entails a predetermined
criteria. Rather, he goes about producing knowledge through connectivity and
transversality, the principles of the
rhizome, or, as Deleuze and Guattari
would say, through resonance, proximity and neighborhood.
2. Nomadic maps
“L’atlas ne dessine plus les mêmes cartes.”
If, according to the above, the Mnemosyne
Atlas proceeds rhizomatically, then such a device
necessarily moves away from traditional epistemology, since it is not a
vertical or hierarchical one-sided system, like the tree, but multiple,
horizontal, and transversal, like the
rhizome. This procedure is
against fixed cognitive models, usually grasped through the metaphor of the
genealogical tree, which is effectively vertical and hierarchical.
This is the dictatorship of the arborescent structure. As has been said before,
the epistemological mode of Aby Warburg has nothing to do with the tree; the rhizome is an anti-genealogy.
In other words, the rhizome is free from the subjection to the tree that continuously repeats the
same trajectory, what Deleuze and Guattari
call tracing or decalcomania. Rhizomatic knowledge, on the contrary, is not
fixed. The rhizome does not produce decalcomanias. It produces maps, instead. Not for nothing, as Deleuze and
Guattari remark, among the principles of the rhizome we also find the principle
of cartography. So, rather than drawing tracings, that is, reproducing the same
model to infinity, the rhizome composes maps. That said, these maps are not
fixed images but concern
They vary constantly, insofar as the map is rhizomatic by definition. According
to Deleuze and Guattari:
the graphic arts, drawing, or photography, unlike tracings, the rhizome
pertains to a map that must be produced, constructed, a map that is always
detachable, connectable, reversible, modifiable, and has multiple entryways and
exits and its own lines of flight.
Here it is possible to maintain that the Mnemosyne Atlas functions
like a rhizomatic map. In the same way that the Warburgian Atlas connects diverse images, maps as conceived by Deleuze and
Guattari outline changing routes between different points, intensive zones, or, put more simply, plateaus. “We call a ‘plateau’
any multiplicity connected to other multiplicities by superficial underground
stems in such a way as to form or extend a rhizome.”
That is because the rhizome is an open and de-centered system of multilateral
connections. In fact, the role of the plateaus is to be in between.
Undoubtedly, the Bilderatlas exhibits this productive model, thus
becoming the perfect framework where plateaus take place, that is, the vibrant space where
the rhizomatic connections occur, just
like in the KWB
Warburg Library, which has a life of its own. Hence
it is no coincidence that Didi-Huberman has accurately noticed the close
relationship between Mnemosyne’s project and the notion of rhizome taken
from Deleuze and Guattari.
Finally, the plateaus are what Deleuze and Guattari also call smooth
space, in opposition to the arborescent striated space. The smooth space is the
habitat of the nomad,
who becomes responsible for connecting and disconnecting the polyvocal flows
traversing through the plateaus. So the nomad is in constant movement; he never takes root. “The life of the nomad is
His labor is to plug in a multiplicity of coexisting possibilities, an endless
variety of plateaus. Consequently, it is thanks to him that the rhizome
successfully works. In this context, Aby Warburg seems to undertake the same
role. He is also a nomad, in
between the panels of Mnemosyne, forging continuously changing networks
between its images. It
is important not to lose sight of the striking similarities between Warburg and
the nomad. Both of them take a similar stance: Warburg puts together and also
divides different plateaus through the cohabitation of images. By means of this
method, Warburg makes possible a
nomadic circuit in which he himself takes part. In fact, “during his work
sessions, Warburg was constantly in motion, handling books, comparing
photographs, and writing and classifying reports.”
Thus, it can be stated that the nomad completely disturbs the given order, the
institutional settings. Warburg is clear about this: “It is a matter of perpetual ‘migrations’ (Wanderungen),
as he liked to say.”
3. Hermes and the Black Box
“Warburg décomposait, déconstruisait subrepticement tous les
modèles épistémiques en usage….”
Going further still, the nomad is clearly illustrated by the
reflections of Michel Serres upon Hermes, the nomadic god par excellence. As is
well known, Hermes’s fundamental task consists of delivering messages between
and among gods and mortals, thus connecting and disconnecting networks of
fluxes. So, he is the god of communication, transport, commerce, travelers, and sailors, the
god whose statue was placed at the crossroads in ancient times. His life, then,
is also the intermezzo. Not in vain, as Serres points out, Hermes is
precisely the god of migration. Therefore, Hermes works “as an échangeur, a
point and instrument of transmission, of communication, a facilitator of
Indeed, Hermes’s mission is to facilitate connections. For this reason, he
always stands at the intersections, "crossroads," to quote the Serresian
term. This concept refers to a point of junction where things come together, a
sort of maze of connections or simply a multiplicity of crossings. As a result, it could be argued that, like the nomad, Hermes
connects plateaus and produces rhizomatic maps, quite similar to the Atlas
of Aby Warburg. Also worth
mentioning is the fact that if Serres speaks about Hermes,
Warburg mentions the Nympha, the divinity who moves forward, Gradiva, who lives in motion.
By extension, by emulating Hermes’s nomadism
we will be able to achieve the “law
of the good neighbor,"
particularly bearing in mind that, according to Didi-Huberman, this Warburgian
procedure is meant to stay at the crossroads (‘croisée des chemins’):
pensée tranche, disloque, surprend, mais elle ne prend aucun parti définitif
dans la mesure même de sa nature expérimentale et provisoire, dans la mesure
où, née d’une pure transformation topique, elle se sait recombinable, elle-même
modifiable, toujours en mouvement et en chemin, “toujours à la croisée des
This is the sense of topology in Serres: a new cartography traced by
Hermes, who thus becomes the author of infinite maps. It is therefore a new
form of mapping knowledge closely linked to the rhizome. Small wonder then that
Serres spells out the specificity of this phenomenon when talking about the
atlas. In his book,
entitled precisely Atlas, Serres outlines a new cognitive methodology
and explains the significant changes we have experienced in relation to the
contemporary production of knowledge. He holds
that epistemology has undergone a profound transformation: Now we live in the virtual; as a consequence,
we have abandoned traditional forms of fixed knowledge. In his words, there has
been a metamorphosis from the hard to the soft. The
hard is energy and materiality, and it is associated with words such as matter,
finite, and local. The soft is intelligible, indefinite, and global, and it is
frequently described as information and meaning, concepts and signs. Simply
put, knowledge that was once plainly
delineated is now imprecise and diffuse. What once was
local is now global. Such a process takes place within a
conceptual dispositif that Serres calls Black Box, a term coined to refer to an obscure device that works
in between the hard and the soft, transforming the former into the latter
through unknowable fluctuations and interchanges.
Note that this fundamental transformation also happens
within the changing frames of the Bilderatlas,
which somewhat becomes a Black Box in itself. The Atlas of Aby Warburg
dilutes and intermingles knowledge in search for the twinning with an abstract
and mutable mosaic of kaleidoscopic voices. The Mnemosyne
Atlas is actually a polyvocal Black Box or, better said, a unlimited set of Black Boxes, in
whose interior the hard is transformed into the soft. Hence, it might be said
that the Warburgian Atlas is composed by many Black Boxes, one box inside
another, to infinity, as if they were an endless chain of Russian dolls. Each
image, each panel, constitutes a plateau ready to be connected, or, in other
words, a hard element ready to be transformed into the soft.
Furthermore, this makes sense,
since Warburg’s main interest was to unveil through the analysis of images the
subtle links lying in the heart of the psychohistory of the socius. So, his objective was as though to study the hard in
order to achieve the soft. This explains Warburg’s effort of looking for
the universal (global) in the particular (local), because, as he used to say, “The Dear Lord nestles in detail." Not
surprisingly, Serres shares a similar insight: “Behind the thickness of things,
the one called God is almost infinitely hidden.”
In this regard, we could finally say that Warburg is
not only a nomadic Hermes but also an angel.
Following Serres, the angel is the person who enables the transformative
connection between the hard and the soft. So, like the nomad, the angel works
on the permanent conjunction and disjunction of the rhizomatic maps: “This person thus fluctuates between the
collective and the individual.”
Not for nothing, angels are also divine messengers. As Serres says, they carry
messages all throughout the Black Box, that is, a sort of Jacob’s Ladder, an endless row of angels going up and down a
ladder that connects earth and heaven, turning the hard into the soft. This is
precisely the way in which the Bilderatlas maps knowledge. Ultimately,
reading Serres’s work, one tends to merge this idea of constant mobility with
the immobility of the mythological titan Atlas, condemned to carry the world
globe, that is, the
traditional atlas, the atlas made a tree. In contrast with this, we found
restless angels and,
leading them, their predecessor, the winged god Hermes. It is thanks to him
that the cartographic rhizome is possible, inasmuch as he works in the
intersections; remember that Hermes
inhabits crossroads. Because of this, if Warburg’s philosophy was the “law of the good neighbor,” Hermes develops the philosophy of prepositions:
are you?” “What place are you talking about?” I don’t know, since Hermes is
continually moving on. Rather, ask him, “What roadmap are you in the process of
drawing up, what networks are you weaving together?” No single word, neither
substantive nor verb, no domain or specialty alone characterizes, at least for
the moment, the nature of my work. I only describe relationships. For the
moment, let’s be content with saying it’s “a general theory of relations.” Or
“a philosophy of prepositions."
4. The schizophrenic trace
“All mankind is eternally and at all times schizophrenic.”
It clearly follows that the
law of the good neighbor is Hermes’s main task. “He produces, alone, a relation
among an incongruous mixture of subjects and practices and an incongruous set
of objects… .”
This melange produces, in effect, a continuous connection between unexpected
elements. As far as Warburg is concerned, such a procedure is carried to the
extreme, as can be seen in the Bilderatlas, which creates an endless
circuit pushing the envelope of connectivity and embracing cognitive production
in a paroxysm of infinite possibilities. Let us say that the Atlas of Aby Warburg takes the form of a
hyperbolic bunch of rhizomes. At first glance, it looks like a piecemeal
labyrinth, responsible for the unleashing of incessant enchainments. This
suggests that the Mnemosyne Atlas not only fulfills the law of the good neighbor but also the
eel-soup style (Aalsuppenstil). This is another expression used by
Warburg to refer to his extremely associative-rhizomatic way of thinking. In
this sense, the eel-soup style indicates the kaleidoscopic nature of the
Warburgian system that
is intrinsically related to the obsessive image of the Laocoon and the
Hopi snake dance, widely studied by Warburg.
It therefore appears that the nomadic principles of the rhizome are actualized
in the Mnemosyne Atlas whereby a patchwork of meandering “snakes”
takes place. So it is impossible to find a rational order within such an
intricate mass of confusing directions. In these circumstances, Serres
could not have overlooked the fact that Hermes’s stick is
decorated with a double coiled serpent: “Look at the caduceus of Hermes.
Two snakes cross repetitively on it.”
Namely, the eel-soup style of the Warburgian Atlas is reflected in the dramatic saturation of images displayed
in illogical order throughout the numerous panels of photographs. The resulting
horror vacui has a connotation of excessive disarticulation, altered
thinking, mental impairment,
madness,” according to Didi-Huberman.
It also inspires certain intellectual anguish; Warburg’s
mind seems to be as strangled by the images of the Atlas as Laocoon’s body by the snakes. Indeed, the Mnemosyne
Atlas is composed by what Didi-Huberman has named a “manic enchainment of
thoughts.” Not in vain, the
constitutive system of the Bilderatlas shows a slightly pathological
nature. In this respect,
too, it is related to the rhizomatic dynamics
that Deleuze and Guattari also call schizophrenic or
Basically, the rhizome is schizophrenic because its core features meet those of
the illness, that is to say, a
multidimensional phenomenon of disruption, disorganization, and fragmentation that
makes unexpected connections between disparate elements. From a clinical
perspective, schizophrenics constantly merge hallucinatory ideas driven by
dreamlike experiences, delusions of persecution,
and paranoid fears. In this process schizophrenics feel like their ideas are melting and disappearing as they constantly
migrate and metamorphose. What is more, schizophrenics are unable to grasp and
fix their own thoughts because of an increasing flight of ideas; their thoughts become, as it were, liquid
and filter through a sieve.
It is worth recalling that for five years Warburg himself
suffered from these schizophrenic symptoms. Due to a severe mental crisis, Aby Warburg was committed first to several
asylums in Hamburg and Jena and finally hospitalized in the psychiatric clinic
Bellevue, in Kreuzlingen, under the care of Doctor Ludwig Binswanger.
Initially, Warburg was treated for acute schizophrenia, although the final
diagnosis changed into a manic depression disorder with possibilities
for improvement, which was indeed the case. Fortunately, the patient
overcame the illness, thus putting an end to long years of terrible mental
However, it is certain
that Warburg had always showed a remarkably schizoid constitution, and he had suffered from hypochondria and
obsessive neurosis from early childhood. Interestingly enough, he even
considered himself a "schizo." In his notes for the
conference The Serpent Ritual that
Warburg gave at the time when he was recovering from his paranoia, he wrote: “They are the confessions of an
(incurable) schizoid, deposited in the archives of mental healers.”
In fact, Warburg himself was fully aware of the palpable consequences of his
schizophrenic tendency: “My illness consists in losing my capacity to link
things according to their simple causal relations, which is reflected in the
spiritual domain as well as the real.”
In this sense, Warburg declared having experienced racing thoughts and flights of ideas, that is, completely disconnected
thoughts, whose result can be appreciated in the profusion of multiple images
of his Atlas, a
phenomenon that has been defined by Didi-Huberman as a "migration of images.”
So we meet migration and nomadism once again. Precisely, Deleuze and Guattari
stress this ability of migration when talking about the fluidity of
associations within the schizophrenic thinking: “It might be said that the
schizophrenic passes from one code to the other, that he deliberately scrambles
all the codes, by quickly shifting from one to another, according to the
questions asked him, never giving the same explanation from one day to the
next, never invoking the same genealogy, never recording the same event in the
Consequently, in this pathological phenomenon we can easily find the seeds of
the polymorphous eel-soup style. Thus it could be sustained that the Bilderatlas,
with its convoluted and short-circuited network of images, is partly a
consequence of Warburg’s propensity to schizophrenia.
In the opinion of Didi-Huberman, it is impossible to separate Warburg from his
illness, often considered an embarrassing biographical fact. So it is of greatest
importance to bear this in mind in order to undertake an in-depth analysis of
his work inasmuch as it plays a key role in the production of Warburg’s main
project, the Mnemosyne Atlas. Nonetheless, Didi-Huberman cautiously remarks
that we should not fall into the trap of thinking that Warburg’s work is simply
the result of a hidden sickness or an inner decay but of an acute intelligence.
5. Atlas or archive?
“There would of course be no atlas possible without the archive
that precedes it… .”
Thus, there is no doubt about the schizophrenic
implications of the Warburgian endeavor. Moreover, the Mnemosyne Atlas
is undertaken at the precise moment when Warburg was just about emerging from
his psychosis. The saturation and juxtaposition of images derives, then,
from a kind of pathological compulsion of compilation, as the consequence of a
sort of disorganized schizophrenic thinking, or,
more accurately, a particular way of rhizomatic organization. By means of the
excessive gathering of images, Warburg exhibited signs of an obsessive
connectivity that almost bordered on
madness. Such profusion of elements is closely akin to collecting
purposes and echoes the principles of the archive.
It is in this sense that we understand Didi-Huberman’s definition of atlas: “An atlas is neither a dictionary nor a
scientific manual nor a systematic catalogue. It is a collection of singular
things, often extremely heterogeneous, whose affinity produces a infinite
(never closed) and strange knowledge… .”
Hence, it could be argued that the
Warburgian Atlas becomes a sort of
dysfunctional collection, like the cabinets de curiosités, wonder
and studiolos, and other spaces for the
amalgamation of unusual elements. As Suely Rolnik has noted, this archival
compulsion continues nowadays, inextricably bound up with the idea of atlas, in
the work of many artists.
However, there is a fundamental difference in nature between the
atlas and the archive. The latter codifies the rhizomatic knowledge into a
fixed corpus whereas the former puts infinite fluxes into circulation. Briefly
said, the archive catalogues, lists,
and indexes every single element in its interior according to a previously
established discourse. The atlas, instead, promotes a heterogeneous polyphony.
Let us say that the archive is therefore a genealogical system, an arborescent tree, whereas the atlas constitutes a rhizomatic map.
In other words, the atlas is a crossroad open to the connection of plateaus. In contrast, the archive entails epistemological
coercion and domination. Boris Groys has thoroughly studied the
nature of this controlling system.
As he explains, the archive selects and guards systematically valuable cultural
things that thus
become separated from the rest of mundane objects, concepts, and ideas, and in so doing it not merely
conserves certain elements but also institutionalizes them. It does not
simply take them from the reality but more importantly produces reality thanks
to them. Thus, by means of the deliberate and intentional organization
of the collected items, the archive generates a biased view and spreads a univocal
discourse. As put by Michel Foucault: “The archive is first the law of what can
be said, the system that governs the appearance of statements as unique
In this same vein, Jacques Derrida refers to the archive as
origin and command (Arkhé), and highlights the archival system as the
site for consignation. In his words: “Consignation aims to coordinate a
single corpus, in a system or a synchrony in which all the elements articulate
the unity of an ideal configuration.”
Put it in a different way, the archive is also what Giorgio Agamben calls an oikomanía:
“a set of practices, bodies of knowledge, measures, and institutions that aim
to manage, govern, control, and orient - in a way that purports to be useful - the behaviors, gestures, and thoughts of human
For its part, the atlas adopts a completely different method that is open and disfunctional
by definition and does not conform to any kind of mandatory structure. It does
not codify inasmuch as it works according to constant connections and
juxtapositions, so it never produces a corpus of normative knowledge. It never
fixes, it never takes root. Warburg said it clearly: the Bilderatlas is
not simply a treasure chamber where to stack and classify different
The atlas is dynamic in itself. That is why the Mnemosyne Atlas is
ungraspable; it rhizomatically escapes
from codification. It works in motion, in a way,
since it is guided by the dancing nymph or the nomadic Hermes. In this sense
Warburg realized that the images should not be fixed; consequently he never imposed a specific
structure on them. On the contrary, he let the images hold fascinating
6. Conclusion: The new atlas
“Le nouvel atlas dessine cette mappemonde.”
In sum, the Atlas composed by Aby Warburg blurs the
hierarchical archive and delineates a new one based on nomadic and abstract
principles: the soft, as Serres would say.
Therefore, the new
atlas looks like a map of limitless boundaries, a "world map" or "knot of intersections," in Serres’s (2008) view, or, differently put,
a fluid topography traced by Hermes. Finally, such a map strongly resembles the
schizoanalytic cartographies that Deleuze and Guattari define as a “schizo stroll.”
Basically, these are intensive maps resulting from the connection and rupture
of different plateaus, like the smooth space of the nomad, the territory of the
flâneur, or the Situationist
psychogeographies. It might be of interest to add that
Warburg himself used to draw these kinds of migratory maps, as can be
appreciated in the Schemes of Personal Geographies that he outlined in
his diaries between 1895 and 1928. This is not strange since it is well known
that Aby Warburg had a strong preference for the term bewegtes Leben (“life in motion" or “animated
life"). So, in opposition to the arborescent archive,
Warburg seems to repeat the Serresian saying: “Comment capter, sur
les pages de cet atlas, trop solides, ces jolies
Warburg’s erratic dynamics answer this question. As stated earlier, the
rhizomatic tendency developed by Warburg gives form to a specific
epistemological foundation that
works according to the law of the good neighbor or the eel-soup style,
designated by Serres as a philosophy of prepositions. Not casually, Warburg has
also described the result of his methodology as the iconology of the intervals:
“An iconology founded on ‘conaturality, the natural coalescence of the word and
the image’… .”
In this context, as far as Michel Serres is concerned, he supports the idea of
of chaos that attacks traditional
methods consisting of reducing multiplicities to hierarchical structures. All
considered, it is according to these criteria that one can figure out the
nature of the new atlas, the new way of producing knowledge, that can be found in the Warburgian Atlas. “It deliberately ignores any
definitive axioms. For it has to do with a theory of knowledge devoted to the
risk of the sensible and of an aesthetic devoted to the risk of disparity.”
For this reason, Giorgio Agamben has referred to Warburg’s iconology as "the nameless science,” inasmuch as it entails a unprecedented strategy
for approaching cognitive production.
In this sense, the Bilderatlas calls into question the generative
procedure of knowledge and makes a fundamental contribution to an
epistemological mutation. Thus, the Mnemosyne Atlas builds a new
machinery for the production of what will be called knowledge, and we find
Hermes at the control of this new machine.
María del Carmen Molina Barea
María del Carmen Molina Barea is Assistant Professor in the Department
of Social Sciences and Humanities at the University of Córdoba, Spain. She
holds an International Ph.D. in aesthetics
and art theory, an MA in contemporary
from Goldsmiths College University of London, and
a BA in art history. Her research focuses on avant-garde
aesthetics, postmodern ontology, gender
theory, film philosophy,
and visual culture studies.
Published on January 1, 2018.
I would like to thank the anonymous reviewers for Contemporary
Aesthetics, who provided
encouraging and helpful comments that improved the essay at key points.
 “How to organize interdisciplinarity?,” Georges Didi-Huberman, L’Image
survivante: Histoire de l’art et temps des fantômes selon Aby Warburg (Paris:
Les Éditions de Minuit, 2002), p. 42, my
 See José Francisco Yvars, Imágenes cifradas. La biblioteca magnética de Aby
Warburg (Barcelona: Elba, 2010).
 Christopher D. Johnson, Memory, Metaphor, and Aby Warburg’s Atlas of Images (New
York: Signale, Cornell University Library Ithaca, 2012), p. 67.
 See Aby Warburg, Der Bilderatlas Mnemosyne (Berlin: Akademie Verlag,
 “It is unlikely that the atlas of images was thought of -and must be thought of - in strict relation to the collection of books
organized, as we know, along principles that were as disconcerting for a
standard librarian as Menmosyne is for a standard iconographer.” Georges
Didi-Huberman, Atlas. How to Carry the
World on One’s Back? (Madrid: Museo Nacional
Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, 2011), p. 166.
 Philippe-Alain Michaud, Aby Warburg and the Image in Motion (New York: Zone
Books, 2004), p. 277.
 See Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A
Thousand Plateaus. Capitalism and
Schizophrenia, 2 (Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1987).
 Simon O’Sullivan, Art encounters Deleuze and Guattari. Thought beyond
representation (Hampshire, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), p. 12.
 Deleuze and Guattari, (1987), p. 7.
 Peter Krieger, “El ritual de la serpiente. Reflexiones sobre la actualidad de
Aby Warburg, en torno a la traducción al español de su libro Schlangenritual.
Ein Reisebericht," Anales del Instituto de Investigaciones
Estéticas, 88 (2006), 239-250; ref. on 241.
 See Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, What is Philosophy?
(London: Verso, 1994).
 “The atlas does not design the same maps anymore.” Michel Serres, Atlas (Paris:
Éditions Julliard, 1994), p. 207, my
 “Deleuze and Guattari compared the dominant Western
model of thinking to the tree. This image refers not only to the literal shape
of a tree (the seed is the cause, the tree the effect), but also -for instance-
to the genealogical lineage attributed to ancestry in the family tree. …Thus
the image of the tree expresses how the dominant model of Western thinking
creates a single version of the truth… .” David Martin-Jones and Damian Sutton, Contemporary Thinkers Reframed: Deleuze Reframed (London: Tauris, 2008), pp. 3-4.
 The foundations of this anti-genealogy can be found in Michel Foucault’s text, “Nietzsche, Genealogy, History” (1971).
 “The map is open and connectable in all of its
dimensions; it is detachable, reversible, susceptible to constant modification.
It can be torn, reversed, adapted to any kind of mounting, reworked by an
individual, group, or social formation. …A map has multiple entryways, as
opposed to the tracing, which always comes back ‘to the same.'” Deleuze and Guattari 1987, pp. 12-13.
continuously refers to the rhizome in his book,
L’Image survivante, in
which he explicitly connects the Mnemosyne Atlas with rhizomatic
processes. See, for example: “Dialectique
du temps qui n’a besoin ni du bien ni du mal, ni des debuts ni des fins pour
exprimer sa impureté: faite de rhizomes, répétitions, symptômes.”
(“Dialectics of time which do not require neither the good nor the bad, neither
the beggining nor the end, to express their own impurity: make rhizomes,
repetitions, symptoms.”) 2002, p. 112, (my translation). He expands this idea
in Atlas. How to Carry the
World on One’s Back?: “The atlas is
guided only by changing and provisional principles, the ones that can make new
relations appear inexhaustibly - far more numerous than the things themselves -
between things and words that nothing seemed to have brought together before.”
2011, p. 16.
 Deleuze and Guattari (1987), p. 380.
 Michaud (2004), p. 235.
 Didi-Huberman (2011), p. 20.
 “Warburg broke down, deconstructed
surreptitiously all epistemological modes in use… .” Didi-Huberman
(2002), p. 24, (my translation).
 Abbas Niran (ed.), Mapping Michel Serres
(Michigan: The University of Michigan Press, 2008), pp. 86-87.
 See Aby Warburg, The Renewal of Pagan Antiquity: Contributions to the
Cultural History of the European Renaissance (Los Angeles: Getty Research
Institute for the History of Art and the Humanities, 1999).
 “This way of thinking slices, dislocates, surprises,
but it does not take a firm stand because of its experimental and provisional
nature, because it emerged from a pure topical transformation so it considers
itself recombinant, modifiable, always in movement, always on the way, always
‘at a crossroads.” Didi-Huberman (2011),
p. 122, (my translation).
 Michel Serres describes the Black Box as follows:
“Take a black box. To its left, or before it, there is the world. To its right,
or after it, travelling along certain circuits, there is what we call
information. The energy of things goes in: disturbances of the air, shocks and
vibrations, heat, alcohol or ether salts, photons… . Information comes out, and
even meaning. We do not always know where this box is located, nor how it
alters what flows through it, nor which Sirens, Muses or Bacchantes are at work
inside; it remains closed to us. …Before the box, the hard; after it, the
soft.” Michel Serres, The Five Senses. A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies
(London and New York: Continuum, 2008), p. 129.
 “The originality of Warburg’s approach lay precisely
in the attempt to get through art at the mental image behind it, to question
not only paintings but also literature, festivals, anything that might reflect
the ideas these people had in their minds.” Ernst H.
Gombrich, “Warburg Centenary Lecture," in Art
History as Cultural History. Warburgs’ projects, ed. Richard Woodfield
(Amsterdam: G+B Arts, 2001), pp. 33-54; ref. on p. 40.
 Michel Serres, The Parasite (Baltimore and
London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982), p. 46.
 Michel Serres, Angels. A Modern Myth (Paris,
New York: Flammarion, 1995), p. 295.
 Michel Serres and Bruno Latour, Conversations on Science, Culture, and Time
(Michigan: The University of Michigan Press, 1995), p. 127.
 Aby Warburg quoted in Ernst H. Gombrich, Aby Warburg. An intellectual
biography, with a memoir on the history of the Library by F. Saxl (London:
The Warburg Institute, 1970), p. 223.
 Serres, (1982),
 See David Freedberg, Las máscaras de Aby Warburg (Spain: Sans Soleil,
 Serres, (1982), p. 42.
schizo in Deleuze and Guattari refers to the virtual undercurrent of desiring
production in each of us that is actualized in neurotic “machines,” which is
also the key of the central theory of the "body without organs." This
is directly opposed to the idea of desire as lack as it is formulated by the
Oedipus Complex. That is why Deleuze and Guattari propose schizo-analysis as a
means of counteracting Freudian psychoanalysis. For further clarification, see
Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus.
Capitalism and Schizophrenia. (London: Continuum, 2004).
 Warburg’s clinical case has been carefully studied in Davide Stimilli (ed.), La
curación infinita. Historia clínica de Aby Warburg (Buenos Aires: Adriana
Hidalgo Editora, 2007).
 Warburg quoted in Gombrich (1970), p. 227.
 Warburg quoted in Didi-Huberman (2011), p. 177.
 “Mnemosyne saved him from his madness,
from the 'fleeting ideas'
so well analyzed by his psychiatrist Ludwig Binswanger. But at the same time,
his ideas continued to 'stream out’ uselessly, like dialectical images, from the
shock of the assembling of particularities.” Ibid., p. 20.
 Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus. Capitalism
and Schizophrenia. (London: Continuum,
2004), p. 15.
 “The fact that the configuration of images can
always be changed around in the Mnemosyne Atlas is a sign in itself of
the heuristic fecundity and the intrinsic madness of such a project.”
Didi-Huberman (2011), p. 20.
 Warburg himself, neurotic from his early youth,
was keen on collecting things. As Gombrich recalls, throughout his life Warburg
obsessively kept copies of his paperwork and letters, he also collected stamps
and even made a gigantic archive where he accumulated articles, journals, and daily press.
 Didi-Huberman (2011), p. 284.
 Some of these artists have
been studied by Didi-Huberman, for example,
Marcel Broothaers, Gerhard Richter, Christian Boltanski, Sol LeWitt, Sophie
Calle, Hanne Darboven, Susan Hiller, On Kawara, Hanna Höch, André Malraux, and Hans Peter Feldmann. To these we could add
Ydessa Hendeles, Walid Raad, Taryn Simon, Simon Evans, Andreas Seltzer &
Dieter Hacker, Dora Maurer, Eva Koťátková, Fiona Tan, Hans Haacke, Juan del
Junco, Richard Hawkins, Robbert Flick, Olafur Eliasson, Roni Horn, Arman, Mark
Dion & Robert Williams, Damien Hirst, and Taryn Simon. See Suely Rolnik, “Furor de
archivo," Revista electrónica Estudios Visuales, 7 (2010), 115-129.
an insider account of this issue,
see Anna Maria Guasch, Arte y archivo 1920-2010. Genealogías, tipologías y
discontinuidades (Madrid: Akal, 2011) and Eivind Røssaak (ed.), The Archive in Motion:
New Conceptions of the Archive in Contemporary Thought and New
Media Practices (Oslo: Novus Press, 2010).
Michel Foucault, The archaeology of knowledge and The
discourse of language (New York: Pantheon Books, 1972).
 See Boris Groys, Art Power (Cambridge,
Massachusetts, London: The MIT Press, 2008), Boris Groys, On the New
(London and New York: Verso, 2014), and Boris Groys, Under suspicion: a phenomenology of the media (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012).
 Michel Foucault, (1972), p. 128. By archive, Foucault does not mean here a set of documents
which must be stored, kept and preserved
given their cultural importance, but more accurately the system of possibility
of discourses.The archive fixes the boundaries of what might be said, the form
according to which it can be said, the way in which it can be appropriated,
etc. It is the archive that owes such a power.
 Jacques Derrida, Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression (Chicago and
London: University of Chicago Press, 1996), p. 3.
 Giorgio Agamben, What is an apparatus? and other essays (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2009), p. 12.
 See Salvatore Settis, Fritz Saxl, and Eric M. Warburg, Warburg Continuatus.
Descripción de una biblioteca (Madrid: La Central, Museo Nacional Centro de
Arte Reina Sofía, 2010).
 This could be seen as the "anarchival
discourse" or "un-archival order" that
has been theorized by Wolfgang Ernst, Digital Memory and the Archive
(Minneapolis: The University of Minnesota Press, 2013).
 “The new atlas designs this world map,” Serres
(1994), p. 128, (My translation).
 In this regard, Warburg could even be considered the precedent of the “cultural software,"
in the terms of Jack M. Balkin (Cultural Software: A Theory of Ideology.
New Haven, Conn, London: Yale University Press, 1998), or the antecedent of the
"digital archive,” as has been suggested by Franco Speroni (“El
archivo post-textual: Aby Warburg y su Atlas de la memoria," Revista
de Occidente, 381 (2013), 53-65).
 “How to capture, in the pages of this atlas - which are too fixed - these wonderfully agile maps?” Serres (1994), p.
275, (my translation).
 Didi-Huberman (2011), pp. 17-18.
 See Giorgio Agamben, “Aby Warburg and the Nameless Science” in Potentialities:
collected essays in philosophy (Stanford: The Stanford University Press,