Talking with Boureima during his short stay, I became conscious of the inherent contradictions that African museums represent. Contemporary African museums inherited their collections from the European colonial governments that established them. Colonial museums in Africa were originally created for the enjoyment of white visitors; black Africans were not admitted.

Their collections consisted primarily of traditional objects – masks, sculptures, and other artifacts – that were often displayed to demonstrate the inferiority of the African cultures represented. In many cases objects were acquired by reprehensible means – deceit, theft and violence. So now we come to the place where the contradiction gets really complicated: The collecting practices were shameful, but some of those objects represent traditions that have almost disappeared. If they had not been “collected” they might have disappeared, along with memories of the understandings they represent. Another complication: according to Boureima, few ordinary Africans today are interested in visiting a museum to view such objects. Whether because they feel disgust at the colonial repression such collections represent, or because they would rather experience traditional material culture within the context of events and practices that have survived in the villages, many Africans consider the museums in their countries to be irrelevant to the lives they live today.

What a conundrum! Collections that represent traditional knowledge and worldviews in danger of being lost, held by museums that have bad karma, are under-funded and run by staffs with little opportunity to develop their professional skills, and are unsupported by the public. Why should Africans or Americans care about the potential loss of these objects and traditions as African museums crumble or are destroyed in the violence of civil war? Aren’t phones and the Internet, banks and commercial development, and, most of all, effective education and health care the most urgent concerns for all of us? Of course all of these are vitally important.

Here’s where I started to think about an analogy that might be found in environmental studies: biodiversity. We know that when species are lost, the healthy diversity of the gene pool and of life forms in the ecosystem is weakened. More homogeneity equals heightened vulnerability to disease, climate change and other threats Diversity is nature’s insurance policy. It allows life forms to adapt and respond to challenges. The earth is itself a complex, healthy system when diversity is maintained. Is it reasonable to think in a similar way about culture? As we lose languages and ways of understanding the world, is human potential somehow diminished? As mass communication and a global economy prevail, is it possible we lose ways of thinking, distinguishing and valuing that could make human life more creative, compassionate and resilient?

I don’t know the answers, but I’m asking – thanks in great part to two days spent with Boureima Diamitani – a man who has dedicated his life to these questions. I hope this is the start of an on-going conversation between the IMA and WAMP.

It’s been a good year so far. I celebrated my “golden birthday” this year when I turned 28 on March 28th, which supposedly brings luck (I can’t complain.) Many of my girlfriends’ male counterparts have turned 30 this year (mine included) which means lots of parties and duh, birthday cake. Another highlight of 2008? Obviously the release of the Sex and the City movie. I have inadvertently begun asking myself questions a’ la Carrie Bradshaw. What does it all mean? When it comes to time, is it really on our side? (Gazing out my imaginary NYC apartment window with my tank top and “Amber” necklace…)

Henry David Thoreau said, “It’s not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is, what are we busy about?” Well here at the IMA there is plenty to be busy about. Anniversaries, openings, and celebrations abound in 2008 and well into the figurative afterlife.

First, the Alliance is celebrating her 50th Anniversary. When Dwight asked Jim if he’d like to form an Alliance, Jim said “Absolutely, I do.”

Let me tell you about the IMA’s Alliance, which is a little different. The IMA is greatly supported by five Affiliate organizations and the volunteers. The Affiliates are support groups and collectors clubs that have varied interests ranging from Contemporary, Asian, Design, and Horticulture.

Then there is the Alliance, a group of over 300 women who have dedicated themselves to the museum for half a century. As with all of the affiliate groups, I’m their liaison to the museum – any and all things they need go through me. I love my job, primarily because I meet and work with literally hundreds of people who love and support the museum as much as I do. Perhaps none are more passionate than the ladies of the Alliance.

Jane Graham, Senior Editor, is writing a complete history of the Alliance that will be published in September. She has discovered all kinds of interesting facts in looking back over time. “I really have enjoyed the research—the Alliance kept such good records over the years. They were very meticulous about everything. I was able to finds lots of information that I thought would be interesting to the members.” Early day scrapbooking at it’s finest.

Beginning with the founder Jo Jameson, the story will be told about the Alliance’s successes and how they have always helped the museum through money, members and ever-changing images, and have served as ambassadors of the museum throughout the city and beyond.

The IMA is celebrating her 125th year this year, from its beginnings as the Art Association of Indianapolis in 1883. Another publication is being written called Every Way Possible: 125 Years of the Indianapolis Museum of Art and highlights the founders, donors, collectors, directors, curators and others who were key to its development over 125 years. Major art acquisitions and collections are also featured. On October 11th there will be a grand soiree fundraiser under a clear top tent that is sure to be talk of the town for years to come.

Egyptians believed that “death was an enemy that could be beaten through proper preparation.”

But I wonder, maybe the Egyptians thought there just wasn’t enough time in this life, which is why they continued the party on into the afterlife? And if the mummies of those times were anything like the mummies coming to rock the IMA on July 11th for the opening of To Live Forever, then maybe they were onto something.

Pink Floyd assures me “You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.” So eat the birthday cakes and toast the anniversaries, cause life is just to short and there’s just never enough time.

One of my favorite pieces in the IMA’s collection is a delicately textured work entitled Duvor, or ‘Communal Cloth,’ by Ghanian born artist El Anatsui. He lives and works in Nigeria as a sculptor and professor.

Duvor is a shimmery, undulating sculpture, made from thousands of collected bottle caps and copper wire, and reminiscent of fabric or chain mail. It hangs in the hallway of the second floor, between the African and Fashion Textile Galleries. Smart move, IMA. This work will stop you in your tracks.

Duvor is captivating, and it makes a strong statement about tradition, trash, beauty and modern Africa. Sustainability is a buzzword now popular in relation to global warming and going green, but not necessarily something I expected to find at IMA. He confronts the social problem of trash by transforming and repurposing it, sustainability at its most beautiful. The patterning is homage to the textiles of Western Africa, including Kente cloth, a woven textile which is known as nwentoma in Ghana.

Anatsui’s sculpture background is evident in the delicate forms created by the rippling and bunching of his ‘fabric,’ something I would guess is not easy to coax out of bits of metal. The installation process with the IMA team shows how he works with the metal until he gets it just right.

As I have thought about this work, fueled by recent readings, I have been thinking about how something like this is classified. Duvor is many things. It is inherently African. It was created in 2007, so it is contemporary. It is also technically a part of the Fashion and Textile collection here at the museum. I know that designating categories is how we find things; we sort by time, place, origin, material, color, size, etc. But I wonder if something like this can ever be all three, equally. Is it just our nature to want a primary category?

Ultimately, where does this object fit in? Who should decide where it goes? Ponder that, and discover some things you might not have already known.

• El Anatsui studied Sculpture and Art Education, and teaches at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka.

• Ghana and Nigeria are along the West coast of Africa.

• It is 5765 Miles from Indianapolis to Accra, Ghana.

• The word Kente comes from kenten, for basket.

• Kente cloth patterns are associated with stories and proverbs, which give the specific patterns their names.

• Recycling aluminum saves 95% of the energy cost of processing it new.

• One recycled aluminum can saves enough energy to run a T.V. for 3 hours.

Though we’re constantly doing projects that are engaging and important to the museum and to the community, not much about what we do is out there on the IMA’s web site (yet!). Well that is to say except for the two projects that have excellent companion web components: Sebastiano Mainardi: The Science of Art and Bellini: Creating & Re-creating. As an objects conservator I work on a wide variety of art: from ethnographic objects, to outdoor sculpture, to contemporary and time-based media, to the Lilly House Collections (and many things in between). I work with Hélène Gillette-Woodard, who is the senior conservator of objects and also works on the same variety of objects. Here’s a couple pictures of our lab as it is today. I would prefer if you didn’t call it “cluttered,” it’s just that we often have a lot of projects going on at once.

The two small angels you see are on Hélène’s table. She’s currently researching and cleaning them.

On my work table you’ll see a variety of objects I’m either actively working on or researching. The elaborately decorated African sculpture is a Songye power figure that I recently radiographed as part of an ongoing research project (there are two smaller ones in those boxes there, and you can see two others on view in the African galleries). There’s also an Igbira head piece in one of those storage boxes, and beyond that are two, 19^th century French opaline vases that will soon be on display at the Lilly House. In case you’re wondering, the blue tubes are not our tribute to Mr. Snuffleupagus , but are a type of vacuum hose that evacuates noxious chemicals that we occasionally work with while treating objects.

Here’s another picture of one of those opaline vases that I dissembled so that I could clean the glass vase and clean and polish the gilt coppery-alloy support structure. For this project, I documented the condition of the vases as they were before I began working. I took a number of pictures of them and then wrote a report that describes their structure and condition. In this report I then wrote a treatment proposal of how I planned to clean them and then discussed this report with the curator of that collection, Bradley Brooks. When I’m finished with the “treatment” of these objects I will write a report of how I did the work and then take more pictures of how they look after I’m done. And then they’ll be transported over to the Lilly House to be put on view in the Great Hall.