When Objects Return Through Words

Abstract

For us Indigenous peoples, objects are not only material things. Objects belong to a network of relationships that includes memory, territory, people, spirits, and techniques of production. These relationships give meaning to the object. Even when an object is absent from the community and stored in museums or collections, the relationships connected to it may continue to exist.

This perspective allows us to think about decay in different ways, and also about restoration and restitution. The return of an object does not occur only through physical restitution. Memory, conversation, and collective practice can also bring the object back into community life. In this sense, we shift our attention from the object’s decay to the relationships and practices that sustain it. Memory plays an important role in this process. In our communities, we keep objects through stories, songs, rituals, and everyday knowledge. Elders often describe how an object looked, how people used it, and what meanings it carried. Drawings made from memory and narrated descriptions can also help reactivate knowledge. These practices allow us to share and rebuild collective memory. The act of making also reconnects knowledge connected to objects. In our communities, the value of an object lies not only in the finished artifact but also in the process of production. We learn techniques, materials, and skills through practice. When we recreate an object, we reactivate these techniques and teach them to younger generations. This process strengthens the transmission of knowledge across generations. Objects also stimulate conversation. We gather to talk about their uses, their stories, and their meanings. These conversations take place within the community and also with museums, universities, and other Indigenous peoples. The object helps us exchange knowledge and experiences. We can also create living archives. We can record stories, draw objects from memory, collect photographs, and map the places connected to these objects. These archives remain under the control of the community. We decide how to store, interpret, and share this knowledge. These practices support cultural continuity. They help transmit techniques, stories, and cosmological knowledge. They strengthen our collective identity and reinforce our ability to tell our own history. Many objects also connect directly to specific places such as rivers, forests, plants, and animals. When we remember these objects, we also renew our relationship with the land. When objects return through words, memory, and practice, they continue to act in the present. We use them to transmit knowledge, strengthen identity, and imagine future paths for our cultural life. These reflections guide the research that I propose with a group of Baniwa objects collected by the German ethnographer Theodor Koch-Grünberg in the early twentieth century. Today these objects are dispersed across several ethnographic museums in Germany. Through negotiations with different institutions, I have assembled a preliminary list that identifies objects that remain distributed across these collections. This work reveals the scale of these holdings. German ethnographic museums today hold the largest collection of Baniwa objects in the world. My intention is to return to my community with this list of objects. I want to share this information and open a conversation with community members. The list will serve as a starting point for reflection. Together we can discuss the meaning of knowing that these objects still exist in distant museums. We can also reflect on the fact that these collections remain physically separated from the communities where the objects were originally produced and used. Many of the objects represented in these collections are still known in Baniwa communities. We recognize their forms, materials, and uses because similar objects continue to exist in our daily lives. Other objects have not been produced for a long time. Several of these are ritual objects. Historical processes interrupted their transmission. Forced relocations, the violence of the rubber economy, missionary catechization, and the system of boarding schools disrupted many forms of ritual practice and knowledge.

When I present this list to my community, I hope it will reactivate memory and discussion. Community members may identify objects that they still know, remember stories connected to them, and describe techniques that remain alive. Some people may choose to draw objects from memory or record narratives about them. In other cases, we may discuss whether we want to reactivate certain techniques or simply document the knowledge that still exists. In this way, objects that remain in distant museums can return through knowledge. The list of objects can become a tool for memory, conversation, and reflection. It can also contribute to the creation of community archives that document stories, drawings, techniques, and places connected to these objects. This process also raises broader questions about the future of these collections and the forms of world-making that they represent. Together we can reflect on how we want to relate to this knowledge and what role it can play in the present. Through memory, conversation, and collective practice, these objects can continue to participate in our cultural life even when they remain physically distant.