• The Din of Pasts CollidingLatin American Histories Urbane, Archival, and Sacral
• Dana Leibsohn (bio)

To say that scholarship on material and visual culture is under pressure can surprise no one. Institutions holding artworks and Indigenous belongings from colonial settings worldwide face calls for redress, with increasing frequency and at times hostility. For Latin Americanists, repatriation catches the most frequent headlines. Yet ownership is only one trip hazard in this rocky terrain. Expertise developed through long hours of study—the once (seemingly) indisputable foundation for knowledge-creation—stills hold sway. Not for everyone, though. Not anymore. Writing about the Global South from intellectual and physical settings in the Global North rarely gets the pass it once did. Moreover, in Chile and Ecuador, Guatemala and Mexico, national governments and local communities vie as often as they agree over ancestral heirlooms (not to mention land and sovereignty). When détente is forged, as it sometimes is, claims [End Page 137] to autonomy in Indigenous and Black communities pull into clearer view, but so, too, do the thirsty, sprawling roots of mestizaje. Things are messy, indeed. No less so because, as Avexnim Cojti Ren (Maya K'iche') reminds us, scholarship can have political and legal consequences in Latin America that extend well beyond any expressed academic, institutional, or museological intentions.¹

For readers of this journal, many of whom are well versed in Indigenous studies, this topography may appear unfamiliar, perhaps even belated. I can imagine a similar point voiced by archaeologists of Latin America, many of whom have become veterans at negotiating ethical and political debates. In art and architectural history, the disciplines featured in this review, the situation seems muddier. Among those who write about materials that predate Latin American nationhood—materials typically called (in English) ancient and colonial visual culture—there is wary recognition of shifting landscapes. For instance, many scholars now know that not every artwork or architectural space that sparks interest (or that "matters for their research") is as available for their interpretation as in times past. And collaborative work with Black and Indigenous scholars and elders is becoming more norm than exception in exhibition- and excavation-based work. The perspectives of contemporary Latin American, Latinx, Black, and Indigenous artists and their artworks also have a new and resonant presence, opening possibilities for bridging past with present.

It is tempting to call this work decolonial. Yet I hesitate. Art and architectural historians who study Latin America's colonial and ancient cultures rarely embrace decolonization explicitly—either in discourse or published practice.² While some scholars believe that decolonization means land back or nothing and have turned to anticolonial thinking instead, we should be honest: old disciplinary habits die hard. For good or for ill, many in the field are still taught to privilege objects over activism. And as it turns out, codependent relationships—of the kind that bind academics, museums, archives, and private collections (if not also archaeological sites)—are proving harder to unwind than most of us ever imagined. Moreover, Latin American national commitments to mestizaje constitute Indigeneity in ways that have yet to receive their due in most decolonial writing about the arts. How conditions in Bolivia might align with or model other decolonial projects—in Canada, Australia, or India—that jury is still out.³ It may run against the grain of contemporary politics to say this, but for Latin [End Page 138] Americanists, the term decolonial and its connotative forcefields can foreclose as much as they enable.

The books reviewed here by Michael Schreffler, Byron Ellsworth Hamann, and Lisa Trever respond to this mottled and riven terrain in varied ways, and knowingly so. The three share an interest in architecture—or perhaps, more accurately, architecturally articulated environments. All also challenge familiar disciplinary tropes. Notably, each performs its intellectual commitments, holding back on declarative assertion. Some...

• 过去的喧嚣与拉丁美洲历史的文雅、档案和神圣历史相碰撞
• 达纳·莱布松 (简介)

说物质和视觉文化方面的学术面临压力，这一点没有人会感到惊讶。世界各地收藏艺术品和土著财产的机构面临着要求赔偿的呼声，这种呼声越来越频繁，有时甚至充满敌意。对于拉丁美洲主义者来说，遣返是最常见的头条新闻。然而，在这片岩石地形上，拥有所有权只是旅行中的一种危险。通过长时间的学习积累的专业知识——曾经（看似）无可争议的知识创造基础——仍然占据着主导地位。但并不适合所有人。不再。从北半球的智力和物质环境来描写南半球很少能像以前那样获得通过。此外，在智利、厄瓜多尔、危地马拉和墨西哥，国家政府和地方社区经常就祖传遗产（更不用说土地和主权）达成一致。当缓和关系得以实现时（有时确实如此），原住民和黑人社区的自治主张[结束第 137 页]就会变得更加清晰，但混血儿的渴求、蔓延的根源也是如此。事情确实很混乱。同样重要的是，正如 Avexnim Cojti Ren (Maya K'iche') 提醒我们的那样，学术在拉丁美洲可以产生政治和法律后果，其范围远远超出任何明确的学术、机构或博物馆学意图。¹

对于本杂志的读者来说，其中许多人精通土著研究，这种地形可能显得陌生，甚至可能是迟来的。我可以想象拉丁美洲的考古学家也表达了类似的观点，他们中的许多人已经成为道德和政治辩论的老手。在本次评论中重点介绍的艺术和建筑史学科中，情况似乎更加混乱。在那些撰写拉丁美洲国家之前的材料的人中，这些材料通常被称为（英语）古代和殖民视觉文化，他们对不断变化的景观持谨慎的态度。例如，许多学者现在知道，并不是所有激发兴趣（或“对他们的研究很重要”）的艺术品或建筑空间都像过去那样可供他们解释。在基于展览和发掘的工作中，与黑人和土著学者和长辈的合作正变得越来越常态，而不是例外。当代拉丁美洲、拉丁裔、黑人和土著艺术家及其艺术品的观点也具有新的、引起共鸣的存在，为连接过去与现在提供了可能性。

人们很容易将这项工作称为非殖民性的。但我还是犹豫了。研究拉丁美洲殖民和古代文化的艺术和建筑历史学家很少明确地接受非殖民化——无论是在话语中还是在出版的实践中。²虽然一些学者认为去殖民化意味着夺回土地或一无所获，并转而转向反殖民思维，但我们应该说实话：旧的纪律习惯很难改掉。无论好坏，该领域的许多人仍然被教导要优先考虑对象而不是行动主义。事实证明，学术界、博物馆、档案馆和私人收藏（如果不是考古遗址）之间的相互依存关系比我们大多数人想象的更难解除。此外，拉丁美洲国家对混血的承诺构成了土著性，但在大多数非殖民性的艺术著作中尚未得到应有的重视。玻利维亚的情况如何与加拿大、澳大利亚或印度的其他非殖民项目相一致或效仿，目前尚无定论。³这样说可能与当代政治的本质相悖，但对于拉丁裔美国主义者来说， “去殖民”一词及其隐含的力场可以尽可能地排除一切。

迈克尔·施雷弗勒 (Michael Schreffler)、拜伦·埃尔斯沃斯·哈曼 (Byron Ellsworth Hamann) 和丽莎·特雷弗 (Lisa Trever) 在此评论的书籍以不同的方式回应了这片斑驳且撕裂的地形，而且是有意为之。三人对建筑都有共同的兴趣，或者更准确地说，对建筑铰接的环境感兴趣。所有这些都挑战了熟悉的纪律比喻。值得注意的是，每个人都履行了自己的智力承诺，而没有做出声明性的断言。一些...