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The MEG Collection of the Precursors of African Pictorial Art.pdf

in LECLAIR Madeleine, MORIN Floriane, TAMAROZZI Federica (eds). 2014. The Collections in Focus. Musée d'ethnographie de Genève. Exhibition catalogue. Genève: MEG / Morges: Glénat, 256 pages.

departMent oF aFriCa The MEG Collection of the “Precursors of African Pictorial Art” Professor Eugène Pittard ( 1867 – 1962 ) employed a variety of adjectives — “indigenous”, “popular”, “spontaneous”, and “naive” — to describe the African pictorial art that he discovered, exhibited, and published in the Floriane Morin Genevan press and integrated into the collections of his art Historian Musée d’ethnographie, which was still developing circa and Curator oF 1930. The Genevan museum was an avant-garde institutHe departMent oF aFriCa tion because, although the works entered the collections of ethnographic museums such as the Musée du Congo Belge in Tervuren (now known as the Musée Royal de l’Afrique Centrale or MRAC in Belgium ), the pictorial art from colonial Africa remained limited, as it was pejoratively labelled as “Métis art” and distinct from “traditional” art ( Vellut, 2002, p. 162). In the Archives suisses d’anthropologie générale ( Volume V, 1928 – 1931 ), Eugène Pittard raised the question of a modern chapter in the history of African art when he published two essays under the title “Arts populaires en Afrique” ( “Popular Arts in Africa” ) : one on “Abyssinian Paintings” and another on “Congolese Indigenous Paintings”. These initial essays on contemporary African art led ten years later to the launch of the permanent exhibition of the “collection of indigenous paintings” in the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève. Figure 1 Equestrian portrait of Ras Tafari Makonnen ( the future negus Haile selassie ) the work of the tigrayan artist, Bähaylu Gäbrä Maryam. ethiopia, addis ababa. Circa 1920. paint on cotton canvas. donated by Émile William Molly in 1926 ; acquired from the artist in addis ababa. etHaF 010699 This essay describes the various historical stages in the compilation of the collection of the “precursors of African pictorial art” ; the artists and some of their works feature in the “Africa” itinerary of the permanent exhibition at the MEG. The word “precursor” has been borrowed from Brother JosephAurélien Cornet (1919–2004), the great specialist on Central Africa, who used it more speciically in the context of the emergence of modern Congolese painting ( 1992, pp. 71 – 85 ). 173 Certain terms that were commonly employed during the colonial period — and which are no longer part of the vocabulary of the human sciences — reappear in this essay in the various extracts of correspondence, press articles, and referenced works. africa in the Musée d’ethnographie circa 1930 “As ethnographers, we wish to preserve the Earth’s diverse physiognomy, and would like to ask those invested with the necessary authority to ensure that the timeless traditions of indigenous art do not disappear as a result of some of our most mediocre and narrowest academic conceptions [ … ]. It is our duty to preserve the souls of our ‘di≠erent’ brothers ; they must be 1. preserved like precious jewels that belong to the whole of mankind.” 1 Eugène Pittard made this statement during the 1931 Exposition Coloniale de Vincennes, which celebrated—rather paradoxically—both the “indigenous arts” and the aptitude of the colonised Africans to adapt to entirely Western notions of “modernity”. The anthropologist’s speech — Eugène Pittard had been curator of the Musée d’ethnographie since 1910 ( he became the Museum’s director in 1935 ) — , which was delivered before and during the event, advocated the preservation of cultural diversity ; the historian Benoît de l’Estoile ( in Le Débat, 2007, p. 94 ) interprets this as a rejection of “assimilationist universalism” and the promotion of “pluralist universalism”. In other words, Eugène Pittard was one of the “promoters of ethnology, the most recent human science”, who — during the apogee of French colonial history — allied themselves with “colonial reformers” who “advocated an ‘indigenous policy’ based on the ‘recognition of cultural di≠erences’ ”. ( de l’Estoile, Le goût des Autres, 2007, pp. 71 – 72 ). Eugène Pittard’s words were translated into action. Between 1928 and 1935, a succession of exhibitions on Africa—which alternated between or boldly combined ethnography and art history —were held at the Musée d’ethnographie. The Genevan general public, who locked to the Mon-Repos villa and were 2. awed at the sight of a collection of Congolese “nail fetishes” 2 ( 1931 ) , also discovered other interesting items : throwing knives from central Africa ( 1929 ), Ethiopian painting ( 1928 and 1935 ) ( ig. 1 ), Madagascan religious practices associated with the works of the Merina painter Rajonah ( 1930 ) ( ig. 2 ), and watercolours by the Congolese artists Albert Lubaki ( 1929 ) ( ig. 3 ) and Djilatendo ( whose real name was Tshyela Ntendu, or Tshelantendu ) in 1932. Eugène Pittard and his close collaborator Marguerite Dellenbach worked on all fronts to promote the Museum’s exhibitions and regularly published reviews of the temporary exhibitions in the Genevan press, “attesting to a genuine concern about the transmission of the latest knowledge” ( Buyssens, 2013, pp. 14 – 15 ). Indeed, Eugène Pittard made skilful use of the press. He used this channel of communication in particular to disseminate “ethnographic propaganda” and urge explorers who had travelled to distant countries to o≠er the Museum the fruit of their discoveries. During the exhibition “Peintures d’Abyssinie” ( “Abyssinian Paintings” ), for instance, the following appeal appeared in the 174 MEG – The Collections in Focus eugène pittard’s speech given at the exposition Coloniale de Vincennes in 1931, in Comptes rendus du XV e Congrès International d’Anthropologie et d’Archéologie Préhistoriques ( international Congress of anthropology and prehistoric archaeology ), 5th session of the institut international d’anthropologie, librairie nourry, paris, 1933, pp. 82 – 83. danielle Buyssens, historian and honorary curator at the MeG, recounts this keen interest in her essay “eugène pittard et la face barnum des musées”, Totem 65, pp. 14 – 15, MeG, october 2013 – March 2014. Journal de Genève, published on 28 April 1928: “We would like to warmly thank our fellow citizen Mr Molly for bringing back such a remarkable collection from his sojourn in Abyssinia. We hope that his example will be followed—in all the ethnographic research areas—by those fellow citizens, travellers, missionaries, prospectors, doctors, topographers, and so on, who, having discovered various civilizations around the world and understood their importance, sense that less fortunate people who are unable to travel to these destinations would also like to discover them. Moreover, what could be a more social and peaceful endeavour than informing people about other cultures and civilizations ? From this perspective, ethnography should be the principal educational concern of our generation, which claims to be concerned about social justice. If white men had had greater ethnographic knowledge, they probably would have made less mistakes and committed less atrocities.” the Compilation of a Collection of african pictorial art the “abyssinian paintings” Figure 2 Seated man imploring his ody mohara. Grisaille signed by the artist rajonah Madagascar, antananarivo. Merina ( Hova ). Beginning of 20th century. Raia, wood, and pigments. donated by pastor Henry rusillon, a missionary in Madagascar, in 1930. etHaF 012287 These Ethiopian paintings ( ig. 1 ) constituted the irst major step in the compilation of a collection of African pictorial art ; Eugène Pittard classiied them in his essay “Les arts populaires de l’Afrique : quelques peintures d’Abyssinie” ( Archives suisses d’anthropologie générale, Pittard, 1928 – 1929, pp. 87–103). They entered the Museum in 1926 thanks to a donation from one of Professor Pittard’s former students, Émile W. Molly, an engineer-geologist for the Compagnie Générale des Colonies ( Djibouti ). The package contained thirty-eight ethnographic objects, including nine paintings on cotton fabric by a Tigrayan artist from Addis Ababa. The paintings are of various sizes and represent various subjects. The largest paintings depict scenes of battle, hunting, and royal festivities. The correspondence between Eugène 3. Pittard and Émile Molly 3 indicates that the latter did not consider it important to provide the artist’s name and the titles of the works. Eugène Pittard complained about this when he received the canvases in 1926, and again in 1927, a◊er he had received no response to his initial request. He eventually obtained some extremely useful clariications for his essay on “Les arts populaires” ( ibid. ). It contains the artist’s name ( incomplete and placed in brackets ) : “Bähaylu”, an “indigenous” painter whom Émile Molly “knew personally and had seen at work, and who had spoken to him about his art” ( ibid., p. 87 ). The artist learnt to paint in the province of Gondar, in an Orthodox monastic community enriched by Byzantine inluences, and his works, which he continued to produce while there was a strong demand, decorated the houses of his fellow citizens. the MeG archives, no. CH-aVG 350.B.1/16; letters from eugène pittard to Émile W. Molly between 1926 and 1927. The long exposition by Eugène Pittard, which was printed in many newspapers, relects his enthusiasm for this new artistic narrative form, and also the di∞culty of contextualizing this form of creative expression, which originated from a region in eastern Africa and which seemed familiar to him but which did not correspond with his ethnographic references. His analysis descended into speculation : “In respect of certain African populations who have produced great art ( the sculptors in certain Congolese tribes, the lost-wax casters of Benin, and so on ), the Abyssinians are not and have never been considered artists” ; the sentence is echoed by another a◊er several department of africa 175 paragraphs: “this art is no di≠erent from our own; it does not have the unpalatable exoticism of Negro art, which is very fashionable at the moment” ( ibid., p. 103 ). Several years later, when the Ethiopian paintings were exhibited again during the Italo-Ethiopian conlict, Eugène Pittard wrote in the Journal de Genève ( 12 October 1935 ) : “In contemporary non-Europeanised Africa, Ethiopia is the only country that has produced extensive pictorial art ; elsewhere, the art has only been sporadic. It could therefore be said that the small public exhibition at Mon-Repos contains ethnographic material of great importance. The exhibition is particularly interesting against the backdrop of current events.” the Madagascan paintings by an “indigenous Hova” A close look at the lower edge of each of the nine ra∞a canvases by the Hova (meaning “freeman”) painter, deposited in the Musée d’ethnographie in 1931, reveals the name Rajonah written diagonally; the artist’s signature has until recently remained undeciphered. It was not identiied by the collector, the 4. missionary pastor Henry Rusillon4—who, it seems, never in fact met the Merina artist — , nor was it identiied by the Museum’s sta≠, or the journalist William MattheyClaudet,5 who published three of his works in the Tribune de Genève, illustrating an extremely detailed article on the painter. The main thrust of the article is that he is an “indigenous artist”. In a letter sent to Eugène Pittard, dated 9 December 1929, Rusillon announces his donation to the Musée d’ethnographie and underlines the urgent need to assemble his collection : 6 “There is also a series 5. of small and large fetish necklaces, and a series of indigenous drawings on ra∞a fabric, which can no longer be found today. Their art has changed very quickly. None of it has any commercial value, but it does have very real value from the point of view of ideas and religious history, which has evolved very quickly. And all that, as a pagan once told me, ‘is the cost of life’ for undeveloped 6. indigenous populations.” Between 1930 and 1931, the Mon-Repos villa temporarily housed the exhibition of Madagascan magico-religious objects and the grisaille canvases by Rajonah ( ig. 2 ), which had been collected by the pastor and ethnographer. In the “Comments” section of the Journal de Genève ( 29 November 1930 ), Eugène Pittard commented on “Magic and Art in Madagascar” : “The Madagascans are born artists. They draw, paint, sculpt, model in clay [ … ] On ra∞a fabric placed on the ground, over which artists crouch in order to work, an indigenous Hova, who has never learnt to paint or draw, represented various scenes of daily life in his country. This is an example — and there are other occasional examples in the work of the primitives — of the development of a spontaneous art. Aesthetes will identify any links with and di≠erences between this Madagascan art and the other spontaneous arts exhibited in the Museum : Negro art and Ethiopian art.” In this piece of writing, the Museum’s curator introduces the concept of “spontaneous art”, a term that was subsequently used to describe the collection of African pictorial art, which he wished to enrich. 176 MEG – The Collections in Focus Henry rusillon, a missionary pastor from the société des Missions Évangéliques de paris, was practising in Madagascar from 1897 to 1907. the documented collection he gave to the museum between 1929 and 1931 is mentioned on pp. 187 – 189 in this work. William MattheyClaudet, “au Musée ethnographique — l’exposition de peintures et d’objets malgaches”, in the Tribune de Genève, from 18 and 19 January 1931. the MeG archives, no. CH-aVG 350.a. 1.1.2.1/5; letter from Henry rusillon to eugène pittard, 09.12.1929. the indigenous painting of the Belgian Congo ( now known as the drC ) Figure 3 Watercolour by albert lubaki the drC, east Kasai, Kabinda. 1939 Mixed technique ( watercolour and pastels ). Commissioned by eugène pittard in 1939, via e. Verhegge, sankuru’s ( the Belgian Congo ) district commissioner. etHaF 017955 There are several chapters in the story behind the watercolours by Albert Lubaki ( ig. 3 ) in the Musée d’ethnographie. The story began in 1929, with a temporary exhibition of a selection of his works in Geneva, Brussels, Paris, and Rome. With the help of Gaston-Denys Périer, a senior o∞cial in the Belgian Ministry of Colonies and a promoter of Africanism (Halen 2000: pp. 139–150), Eugène Pittard obtained from Georges Thiry—a territorial agent whose role as a “patron” will be discussed later —a set of watercolours that aroused his interest. He devoted the second part of his “Arts populaires en Afrique” to them in the Archives suisses d’anthropologie générale ( Vol. V, 1928 – 1931 : pp. 231 – 243 ), and ensured that the exhibition was widely advertised in the press. In the Journal de Genève of 30 November 1929 he wrote : “This is the irst time that this popular art, which has emerged spontaneously in the Congolese culture, will have been seen in Switzerland. It is an interesting and important stage in the history of art in Africa”. Indeed, the imaginative and enchanting nature of Albert Lubaki’s paintings, his talents as an ivory carver and a “mural painter”, and his Congolese origins, a country with a veritable tradition of “Negro art”, provided Eugène Pittard with a discursive weapon to shatter the preconceptions of his time : “To date, the Blacks in Africa seem to have produced very little in the way of painting. A few rare attempts at painting have been reported, but these have only been conducted under the inluence of the Europeans. However, the Blacks — quite apart from any form of Europeanization — are remarkable sculptors, weavers, metalworkers, and clay modellers, with a very good general sense of style. [ … ] However, those who are familiar with these art forms never imagined that the Negros could also—and this is what is so important about this discovery—suddenly become painters without any formal training : real painters, not slapdash painters. As a consequence, we need to alter our perception of African art.” In 1932, the works of another Congolese watercolour painter — Djilatendo ( whose real name was Tshyela Ntendu, or Tshelantendu ), who was also “discovered” by Georges Thiry — were showcased in a temporary exhibition at the Musée d’ethnographie, which was mounted with the help of the correspondents who had helped Eugène Pittard to acquire works by Albert Lubaki. Unfortunately, none of Djilatendo’s works were purchased by the museum during the exhibition. The second chapter in Albert Lubaki’s connection with Geneva involved a commission ten years later for a set of watercolours by the painter, when there were plans to relocate the museum from the Mon-Repos villa to the Boulevard Carl-Vogt. Eugène Pittard resumed con7. tact with Gaston-Denys Périer, who in 1939 was working at the Commission pour la Protection des Arts et Métiers Indigènes at the Belgian Ministry of Colonies : 7 “Madame Dellenbach and I plan to mount a permanent exhibition of indigenous paintings in our new premises. department of africa the MeG archives, no. CH-aVG 350.a. 1.1.2.2/11; letter from eugène pittard to Gaston-denys périer, 16.01.1939. 177 Would it be possible to acquire several examples of paintings by Lubaki ?” Gaston-Denys Périer immediately put him in contact with an intermediary, E. Verhegge ( his irst name is not known ), who was a commissioner in the district of Sankuru, in Kabinda ( Belgian Congo ). Eugène Pittard sent his 8. the MeG archives, request in February 1939 8 and received a positive response no. CH-aVG 350.a. a month later : “[ … ] I am happy that you have given me 1.1.2.2/11; letter from eugène pittard an opportunity to help Lubaki, who is living in dire povto e. Verhegge, 9 erty”. He emphasized the fact that the materials, draw18.02.1939. ing paper, colours, drawing pins, and brushes were almost 9. the MeG archives, no. CH-aVG 350.a. impossible to ind in Africa. The painter was therefore 1.1.2.3/13; letter unable to work until he received a package containing the from e. Verhegge to eugène pittard, much-needed materials. In May 1939, the materials were 21.03.1939. sent, accompanied by a new letter from Eugène Pittard, 10. the MeG archives, in which he expressed his concern about the need for the no. CH-aVG 350.a. 10 1.1.2.2/11; letter painter to maintain his “authentic” style : “And now that from eugène pittard Lubaki has got these colours and brushes, let us hope that to e. Verhegge, 10.05.1939. he produces some really remarkable work ! But for God’s sake, he must not attempt to imitate European works, or allow himself to be inluenced by any works of art he may have seen. The most important thing about these paintings is that they should be indigenous. If they are similar in style to the works that Monsieur Gaston-Denys Périer exhibited and which he lent us in Geneva, then everything will be ine. Allow me to insist on this important point : we need works that are completely indigenous.” In June 1939, Verhegge sent twelve watercolours. He was not happy 11. the MeG archives, with the works because he believed that Albert Lubaki no. CH-aVG 350.a. had “done a poor job of them”.11 But, since all work must 1.1.2.3/13; letter from e. Verhegge be remunerated — something which had not been a conto eugène pittard, cern of Eugène Pittard’s until this point — the commis29.06.1939. sioner suggested that, if he “feels he should remunerate him [ the artist ]”, then he should do so with raw materials, meaning drawing paper. On 12 July 1941, in the main hall of the newly built museum at 65 – 67, Boulevard Carl-Vogt, Eugène Pittard delivered an inauguration speech to an audience surrounded by the works in the permanent collection of indigenous paintings ( ig. 4 ). eugène pittard’s intuition and the precursors of the african pictorial Movement When he assembled his “contemporary” collection of indigenous paintings, the Director of the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève was sending a clear message to the museum’s visitors and to posterity that colonial Africa was not necessarily synonymous with the disappearance of all creative work ; however, as a “discoverer”, he necessarily lacked the beneit of hindsight, so he was unable to fully appreciate the momentum for change that inspired these pioneering artists, before they themselves became an inspiration for others. We will take a brief look at our institution’s ( now the MEG ) collection of pictorial art, through the creative contexts of the artists who featured in the museum in 1941 and the work of Ibrahim Njoya, the great Bamum draughtsman, whose work entered the collection in 1966. 178 MEG – The Collections in Focus Bähaylu Gäbrä Maryam is one of the representatives of the popular art of Ethiopia that lourished in the irst decades of the 20th century. This period began with the State’s struggle against the brutal establishment of an Italian protectorate and the need to ensure that the national symbols of the only Christian kingdom in Africa were visible to the foreign powers. The establishment of foreign embassies and the inlux of visitors to Addis Ababa and Gondar stimulated a new form of secular — called “popular” — pictorial art. The painters, who were mostly men of the Church, had, until that point, worked in the ield of Orthodox sacred art ; their sons, who were already employing modern mediums for pictorial creation and signed their works, developed this new art form “for travellers”, with “Ethiopian themes” ( ig. 1). Figure 4 the inauguration of the Musée d’ethnographie on Boulevard Carl-Vogt, on 12 July 1941. professor eugène pittard is giving his speech in the main hall. His close collaborator, Marguerite Dellenbach, is in the foreground. Two watercolours by Albert Lubaki and a canvas painted by Bähaylu Gäbrä Maryam can be seen on the wall in the background. Rajonah ( active before 1907 ) followed a pictorial tradition that began in Madagascar when the monarchy was established and developed during the 12. this information has colonial era.12 Unfortunately, there appears to be no inforbeen taken from mation available about the life and career of the “Hova” the research on the artist rajonah painter ( Hova, meaning “freeman”, is one of the Merina carried out by casts ). At the beginning of the 20th century, Rajonah was Victoria Mann, intern in the MeG in 2012, part of the new generation of painters, who mostly came and based on her essay “l’art pictural from the Merina elite and attended the missionary art malgache du début schools to study Western techniques. Photography played du 20 siècle exposé au MeG”, Totem 65 : a major role in this creative e≠ervescence, and in only 18 – 19, MeG, oct. 2013 – March 2014. i◊y years a fully developed Madagascan academicism emerged. Even though his technique and composition were inluenced by European artistic norms, Rajonah’s style was unique in its genre. He was, in fact, the only Madagascan artist known to practise grisaille painting directly on unprepared canvas, which allows the natural colour of the ra∞a to show through. The iconography of his subject matter is of great documentary importance as it illustrates the daily lives and religious practices of the Merina people on the Great Island at the time ( ig. 2 ). e Albert Lubaki is presented as one of the Congolese “image makers”. The term refers to the “small image-making market”, which involved transferring iconographic images — which until that time took the form of painted frescoes or carvings — onto drawing paper or canvas. Jean-Luc Vellut ( Premiers mouvements au Congo belge, 2001, pp. 160 – 162 ) explained that this new, more transportable pictorial world, targeted several Congolese and European collectors in the semi-urban contexts of the Leopoldian Congo, where Western photography, reproductions, techniques, and materials were accessible. The discovery of Albert Lubaki’s watercolours and their discreet success were due to the intervention of the colonial agent Georges Thiry, his patron and supplier of materials, from 1926 to the turn of the 1930s. It was Thiry who encouraged the thirty-ive year old cra◊sman, decorator, and minor trader in “indigenous curiosities” to develop his watercolour, ink, and crayon skills to convey his poetic universe, which was peopled with men, plants, and animals, and conveyed his vision of modernity ( ig. 3 ). In the years leading up to the Second World War, art schools lourished in the Congo ( now the Democratic Republic of the Congo ), and the “image makers” were forgotten. department of africa 179 Drawings from the Bamum Kingdom ( the Grassields, West Cameroon ) constitute a significant group within the MEG’s corpus of pictorial art. This collection, which has been assembled in several stages, brings together the works of several anonymous artists ( ig. 6 ) and the works — nine sheets — ( fig. 5 ) of the famous Ibrahim Njoya ( c. 1887 – 1966 ). Produced around 1930, all these drawings attest at various levels, to the political, cultural, and artistic upheavals that shook the kingdom, which was under the yoke of the French colonial administration. Alexandra Loumpet-Galitzine, a specialist in the history of Bamum arts, portrays Ibrahim Njoya as follows : “With his princely lineage, this artist was the relative and homonym of King Ibrahim Njoya ( who reigned from 1887 to 1933 ) and one of his closest collaborators. He participated in most of the royal inventions, including that of a Bamum script, and he instigated the development of drawings and wood engravings, which rapidly became famous in the Grassields kingdoms. Hence, he represented the ideal of a modern Bamum artist, who found a balance between traditional know-how and artistic renewal. His work explored several thematic and technical registers—free drawings and portraits of the Bamum kings, for whom he established the canons : maps, decorative motifs, carved panels, furniture, and so on. In the 1920s, these drawings were essentially political, as they were executed during the conlicts between King Njoya and the French colonial administration. A◊er the king’s death in exile, Ibrahim Njoya worked for a range of foreign clients, including missionaries and visitors. The drawings’ aesthetic attributes then prevailed over their immense 13. this extract historical value.” 13 Nine large sheets of drawings from the artist’s first period ( ig. 5 ) were added to the MEG’s African collections in 1966, thanks to the donation by the missionary pastor Jean Rusillon, who, following in the footsteps of his father, Henry, in Africa ( Madagascar ), settled in Cameroon. Claude Savary, who was the curator of the Department of Africa at the time, published an essay on this fabulous acquisition in the Museum’s annual Bulletin ( 1977 ). In the essay, we learn, in particular, that these drawings were executed between 1929 and 1932, the years when Jean Rusillon acquired them. The pastor managed to obtain precise commentaries on each of the works — written in the Bamum language, and then translated — from one of the sons of King Njoya ( in exile at the time in Yaoundé ). During this time, Eugène Pittard closely followed the news of the declining fortunes of the Bamum Kingdom. His curiosity was awakened by the accounts he received from his friend Josette Debarge, a missionary who had been practising medicine since 1926 at Foumban, the kingdom’s capital. This exceptional woman had become the friend of Mose Yeyap, the cousin of King Njoya and proud dissident of the regime, who was a writer and interpreter for 180 MEG – The Collections in Focus Figure 5 Planche des Rois ( “sheet depicting the Kings” ) portraits of seventeen Bamum kings, from nshare Yen to njoya. drawing by ibrahim njoya. Foumban, Grassields, Cameroon. Bamum Kingdom. Circa 1930. drawing paper, China ink, and coloured crayons. Donated by the missionary pastor Jean Rusillon in 1966. etHaF 033559 is borrowed from expanded entries written by the historian and anthropologist alexandra loumpet-Galitzine in 2013 during the documentation of the works by ibrahim njoya displayed in the MeG’s permanent exhibition. Figure 6 Musiciens d’une société secrète ( “Musicians in a secret society” ) drawing by ibrahim njoya or by an artist in his circle ( Mose Yeyap ? ). Cameroon, Grassields, Foumban. The Bamum Kingdom. Circa 1930. drawing paper, China ink, and coloured crayons. Donated in 1950 by May Frommel, a missionary and nurse in Bamum country. etHaF 023027 the French colonial administration ( for further insight on this, see : Morin’s essay, “Mose Yeyap ( 1895-1941 ), cet ‘éminent révolutionnaire’ ”, 2012 ). His political struggle against the king also had a dimension related to “heritage”. As director of the Mutuelle de l’Artisanat de Foumban, he founded a museum ( the future Musée des Arts et Traditions Bamoun ), inaugurated in 1926, with pieces from his private collection, including certain objects that were royal and symbolically infused with power, which he had managed to acquire thanks to his noble rank. It was in connection with this that Eugène Pittard initiated correspondence with Yeyap in 1930, and asked him to collect ancient objects and to send him draw14. the MeG archives, ings.14 Hence the MEG’s archives and collections comno. CH-aVG 350.a. prise sheets executed in ink and in crayon that were 1.1.2.2.2/2; letter from eugène pittard donated by Mose Yeyap, Josette Debarge, and the nurse to Mose Yeyap, May Frommel, another missionary based at Foumban in 22.02.1930. the 1930s : there are sketches of ornamental motifs, drawings of traditional architecture, and rustic and processional scenes ( ig. 6 ) ; and it is now di∞cult to ascertain whether the masters or the apprentices created them, so similar were the styles of Ibrahim Njoya and Mose Yeyap before the fall of the regime of King Njoya, who died in exile in 1933. This overview of a part of the history of the Musée d’ethnographie in the mid 1930s puts into perspective the paradoxes of the “cultural” inner workings of the great colonial machine ; it also shows how the intellectuals of the era developed a greater understanding and awareness of the creative potential of these “Others”, who were initially seen as Savages, and were now viewed as Artists. Various heritage initiatives, which were contemporary to those conducted by our institution, attempted to legitimize the place of the irst “individual African artists” in the history of art written by and for the North Atlantic world. However, as the art historian Audrey Coudre observes in her essay, “Modernité(s) africaine(s)” (2013, p. 175): “These works, which were mainly created for Europeans, were no longer connected with traditional customs and impossible to assimilate with the artistic forms of international modernity ; and they have generally been forgotten and discredited”. Oscillating between ethnography and art history, and early on in its institutional history, the MEG succeeded in integrating the precursors of a major pictorial movement that eventually saw the development of modern Africa’s accession to independence. André Magnin, an expert in contemporary African art and former director of the Pigozzi Collection, stated in the Fondation Cartier’s exhibition catalogue, Histoires de Voir (2003, p. 26): “Today, Africa is enriching the ield of contemporary art and has been contributing to world art history since the end of the 20th century. However, even today, although we live in an era of global art, it is as though — from the thousandyear-old secular masterpieces acknowledged by our greatest modern artists until the contemporary paintings of this continent—nothing had previously existed.” translated from the French by david and Jonathan Michaelson department of africa 181