European accounts have long depicted the Amazon as an untouched, timeless wilderness — a “virgin” backdrop where Indigenous life belongs to a distant past. That flattening of a complex, varied region is what the new exhibition “Amazônia. Indigenous Worlds” in Bonn seeks to undo.
Co‑curated by anthropologist Leandro Varison and Brazilian Indigenous artist and activist Denilson Baniwa, the show reframes Amazônia as a cultural region shaped by dense networks of exchange, social complexity and entangled relationships between humans and other‑than‑human beings. Rather than following a standard museum chronology, the curators arrange works to reflect Indigenous understandings of history and time, presenting culture as living and changing.
“Amazônia” here refers to a broad cultural and historical area across Brazil, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, Guyana, Suriname and French Guiana — roughly the Amazon Basin — and remains one of the world’s most linguistically diverse regions. Before European invasions, scholars estimate more than 1,000 languages existed across the area; today more than 300 Indigenous languages survive, alongside signed, whistled and drummed forms of communication. Varison notes this stands in striking contrast to the European Union’s 24 official languages and underscores the region’s ongoing cultural vitality.
The exhibition explores creation stories, community relations and Indigenous visions for the future, emphasizing continuity rather than isolation. Several artworks directly confront how Indigenous peoples have been represented and erased in European accounts. Jaider Esbell’s Carta ao Velho Mundo (Letter to the Old World, 2018–2019) is a pointed example: Esbell found a 1972 encyclopedia that presented Western painting as “universal” and painted, wrote and drew over its reproductions, inserting Indigenous cosmologies and environmental urgencies to decolonize the book’s claim to universality.
Denilson Baniwa’s Caçadores de Ficções Coloniais (Hunters of Colonial Fiction, 2021) reworks early anthropological photographs used to classify or exoticize Indigenous peoples by inserting global pop‑culture icons — a DeLorean from Back to the Future, King Kong, Godzilla — to ironically expose how such images and collections shaped stereotypes.
Varison rejects the stereotype that Indigenous peoples “belong to the past.” He points out that the use of mobile phones and social media does not signal cultural loss but adaptation: “If we Western people have the right to change, why shouldn’t they?”
The exhibition also raises the question of discovery. Archaeology and ecological studies show that several million people lived in Amazônia before colonization, cultivating forest gardens and creating “terra preta,” a fertile, carbon‑rich soil built through centuries of adding charcoal and organic matter. Many iconic species — including Brazil nut, cacao and açaí — were domesticated and tended by Indigenous communities long before Europeans arrived. These findings challenge the myth of an untouched wilderness and highlight long histories of human stewardship.
A different sense of time is central to the show: many Indigenous communities view history as active in the present, carried through relationships with ancestors, places and non‑human beings. These relationships inform how events are remembered and how responsibilities are understood today. The exhibition also notes that “white people” can be categorized within Indigenous worldviews as relatively recent “Others,” defined by different ways of seeing rather than by fixed physical traits.
Varison also emphasizes that some communities choose to live in isolation now; they are contemporary people making different choices, not relics of the past. By foregrounding Indigenous knowledge, practices and worldviews as present and evolving, “Amazônia. Indigenous Worlds” reframes the region away from timelessness and toward lived, historical complexity.
The exhibition runs through August 9, 2026.
Edited by: Elizabeth Grenier