I remember the first time I sat with a displaced family clutching their phones and a printout from a neighbourhood app called MemoryMap. The map markers, timestamps and user notes seemed to hold the kind of granular, contemporaneous information that could prove where people had lived, what was...
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Heritage
When I first heard about a cooperative in Lagos wanting to surface its textile...
Heritage
When I first started spending time in Accra, it was the small, peer-run repair...
Heritage
I remember first hearing about archivebridge at a small gathering of curators...
Arts
Technology is reshaping education across the world, and France is no exception....
I remember first hearing about archivebridge at a small gathering of curators and community archivists in Lisbon. Someone passed a phone around and pulled up an interface that looked deceptively simple: photos, place names, oral notes, and a...
Technology is reshaping education across the world, and France is no exception. From interactive whiteboards to digital homework platforms, the modern classroom in France is evolving quickly. What was once a system known for chalkboards, notebooks,...
When I first started working with diasporic makers—artists and craft practitioners who had migrated or whose families had moved across borders—I was eager, idealistic and, frankly, inexperienced. I believed that connecting their work to new...
When a museum agrees to display living sacred regalia on loan, it is taking on a responsibility that extends far beyond transport logistics and label copy. These objects are not inert artifacts; they are embedded in ongoing practices, relationships...
I remember the first time I held an ase thread in my hand — a slender, hand-twined cord whose colours and knots carried meanings that were whispered more than written. In Lagos markets I watched makers stitch small orders for tourists and priests...
I’ve watched, too many times, an object with a fraught past slip through the formal checks of an auction house and reappear decades later under a new catalogue number and a glossy photograph. It’s painful because the path that led that object...
I remember the first time I sat in a cramped apartment in London listening to field recordings made half a world away. The songs carried weather and kinship and the scent of ceremony; the recordings themselves were brittle, their provenance scrawled...
When museums or galleries ask to borrow wearable sacred regalia from living ritual specialists, I always feel a mix of exhilaration and responsibility. These objects are not just artifacts; they are active participants in belief systems, embodiments...
I have been thinking a lot about the ways neighbourhood apps can move beyond local listings and event calendars to become instruments of cultural restitution—practical, forensic tools that help displaced families prove ownership of cultural...
I remember the first time I stood in front of a ritual mask that had been returned to its community after decades in a European museum. The moment was thick with relief, gratitude and a fragility I hadn’t expected. That object—a carved face,...