The legacies of the Universal Exhibition or the World’s Fairs are visible in any museum display in which materials are organized and grouped along national lines. The Musée du Quai Branly, recently renamed Quai Branly - Jacques Chirac, in Paris, is a good example, I think, of the survival or the legacy of the Universal Exhibition in an ethnographic museum today. What you’ll find—alongside the display of objects in glass cabinets or on platforms that represent a particular people or society and the objects that they make for ritual purposes or for pragmatic purposes—alongside those objects are videos of individuals talking about their customs. We might think of those videos as self-representation, but only if we remove from consideration the structures that enabled the various French ethnographers to travel to those distant lands on what they called “scientific missions” over the decades. It was a vast structure that allowed people to go across the oceans and the seas, travel with technical equipment, find local people who were willing to discuss their social practices, and then film them as they spoke into the camera.
By speaking in this way, the locals or the Indigenous performed for an audience via the medium of film and video, rather than standing in a pavilion or on a stage in the Universal Exhibition in the 19th century. But the logic, I would say, is the same. And the function is very similar. They’re in some ways performing, discussing, telling, narrating their social practices in the same way earlier in the 19th century so-called Javanese dancers were on stage doing their wonderful dances to a live audience. They might look like they’re representing themselves through gesture or demonstration, but, behind it, if you peel back the layers, there’s still a puppet master. And that puppet master is always the Westerner who puts them on the stage or puts them in front of the camera in whatever way, whatever the framework is