Twentysix Gasoline Stations was self-published by Ed Ruscha through the National Excelsior Press in 1963, in an edition of 400 numbered copies. The book contains exactly what its title promises: twenty-six black-and-white photographs of gas stations along Route 66, from Los Angeles to Oklahoma City, each captioned with the station’s brand name and location. There is no text beyond the captions, no introduction, no explanation. The photographs are deadpan, uninflected, taken from the road — the kind of pictures a driver might take if he stopped at every gas station between two cities.
The book was a provocation, and it was received as one. The Artforum critic Philip Leider reportedly returned his review copy with the comment that it was “not a book.” The Library of Congress initially declined to catalog it. But Ruscha’s seemingly trivial object was, in fact, a radical reimagining of what art could be. By presenting banal subjects in a banal format — a cheap paperback, small enough to fit in a pocket, priced at $3.50 — Ruscha challenged every assumption about the art object: that it should be unique, precious, and displayed in a gallery. His book was multiple, disposable, and available by mail order.
The conceptual framework was as important as the images. Ruscha was not interested in the gas stations as architecture, as social commentary, or as aesthetic objects. He was interested in the idea of a system — twenty-six stations, photographed according to a predetermined plan — that produced an artwork through its own logic rather than through the artist’s expression. This approach connected Ruscha to the emerging Conceptual art movement (Sol LeWitt, Joseph Kosuth, Lawrence Weiner) while remaining rooted in the specific landscape of the American West.
The influence has been incalculable. Ruscha’s artist books — he would produce sixteen between 1963 and 1978 — established the artist book as a legitimate art form, distinct from both the livre d’artiste (expensive, limited-edition art books) and the photography monograph. His deadpan aesthetic influenced the Düsseldorf school of photography (the Bechers, Andreas Gursky, Thomas Struth), the New Topographics movement, and every artist who has used the book form as a primary medium.
Collecting Twentysix Gasoline Stations
First edition (National Excelsior Press, 1963): 400 numbered copies, perfect-bound paperback, white cover.
Second edition (1967): 500 copies.
Third edition (1969): 3,000 copies.
Market values:
- First edition, numbered, fine: $15,000–$50,000
- Second edition: $3,000–$8,000
- Third edition: $1,500–$4,000
- Later reprints and facsimiles: $20–$100
One of the most important and valuable artist books of the twentieth century. The first edition is a major collectible; even later editions command significant prices. Condition is critical — the books were printed cheaply and were not designed for preservation.