Spatializing Differences

Mapping of “ethnic” or “racial” groups in the Philippines was an enterprise that was taken up through the direct interventions of the two colonial polities in Filipino history—Spain and the United States. The objective of mapping race or ethnicity in the Philippines was to identify the location of native racial groups for ethnological and administrative purposes. This article intends to explore the relationship between mapping and the scientific conceptualization of race during the changeover in colonial rule by examining two ethnographic maps, specifically the “Blumentritt Map” (1890) and the Atlas de Filipinas (1899). Maps are complex artefacts that can be read on various levels. Thus, the spatializing effects of mapping can extend well beyond the documentation of a geographic reality and capable of altering historical narratives and sociopolitical experiences.

Corners, Tables, Lines

The modern concept of race is usually traced back to proponents of a “natural history of mankind” in the European Enlightenment. Starting from allegorical representations of the four continents in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and the eighteenth-century visual genre of castas paintings, I suggest that modern conceptions of race were significantly shaped by diagrammatic representations of human diversity that allowed for tabulation of data, combinatorial analysis, and quantification, and hence functioned as “tools to think with.” Accounting for racial ancestry in terms of “proportions of blood” not only became a preoccupation of scholars as a consequence, but also came to underwrite administrative practices and popular discourses. To contribute to a better understanding of the history of race relations, historians of the race concept need to pay more attention to these diagrammatic aspects of the concept.

Putting the Suenjel Sámi on the Map

This article examines the early publications and correspondence of Karl Nickul, a Finnish geodesist and amateur ethnographer/anthropologist. In his publications and correspondence, Nickul studied and discussed the Skolt Sámi of the village of Suenjel in the Finnish province of Petsamo. Nickul was a polyglot and an internationally-minded pacifist who framed the Suenjel Sámi among other “primitive” peoples worldwide, instead of among the neighbouring Finno-Ugric-speaking peoples in Soviet Karelia just across the Finnish-Soviet border. In the Suenjel Sámi, Nickul saw a chance to preserve an instance of the “original” Sámi way of life, which he viewed as being closely conditioned by nature. Nickul wanted to carry out this preservation for the sake of the Sámi themselves as well as for scholarly purposes. As he sought international recognition for the Suenjel Sámi and parallel cases of cultural preservation, Nickul simultaneously developed a scholarly persona as the foremost expert on this population without following the conventional academic route.

The Logic of Skull Writing

In this essay I discuss the significance of theories and classifications that appear in the material and graphic form of race and place name inscriptions on human skulls. I argue that human skulls themselves provided a site for the inscription of raciological thought, a privileged location for abbreviating broader conceptions of differences and distributions of ‘human races’. I will draw on the history of race science in 19th-century Europe to explore how and why certain race and place names were inscribed onto skulls, and the effect of this form of inscription on the shaping of theories in the racial sciences during this period. The article especially considers the work of the French anthropologists Armand de Quatrefages and Ernest-Théodore Hamy, who systematically wrote inscriptions on the skulls they were studying in the context of Crania Ethnica, arguably the most ambitious project of global racial craniology undertaken in the late 19th century.

A Tricky Start

The earliest encounters between cinema and anthropology occurred while the former was taking its first steps and the latter was trying to better define its disciplinary profile. Among the first to be involved was the Frenchman Félix Regnault, an investigator of many topics and a lifelong supporter of the importance of ethnographic cinema. Racial differences were at the center of his interests, although attempts to highlight them yielded contradictory results. Some years later, the Britain Alfred C. Haddon brought a camera with him on the legendary Cambridge expedition to the Torres Strait (1898) and recorded a few films. The third example discussed here is that of Baldwin Spencer, who, together with Francis Gillen, included the filming of native ceremonies in his studies on the indigenous populations of Central Australia. Not only did technical and logistical problems trouble the start of ethnographic cinema. The theoretical framework of social evolutionism was weakening and anthropology was turning more and more to the study of language, kinship and belief systems. Here the contribution that cinema could make seemed temporarily to be in question.

Lidio Cipriani (1892–1962), the Photographs in His Popular Science Literature

The case of Lidio Cipriani (1892–1962) is symptomatic of a time when sciences like anthropology and ethnology supported the fascist ideology and gave it scientific approval in a crucial political moment for Benito Mussolini’s regime (1930–1940), which enacted racist laws and institutionalized the establishment of racial segregation in the colonies as well as within the boundaries of the motherland. Over the past thirty years historiography has focused some attention on the issue, but in this contribution I would like to highlight a point that has only been mentioned in passing in studies dedicated to the Florentine anthropologist, namely the questions surrounding the use of his massive photographic corpus. Since the use of imagery to nourish a collective imagination had become crucial for the fascist regime, an analysis of these images and their circulation may allow us to better explore the interrelationship between a totalitarian political power, the social body impregnated with propaganda, and the physical anthropology practiced by Cipriani, who produced a colossal visual corpus that suited the fascist theoretical apparatus.

Giulio Camillo’s Theatre of Knowledge Revisited

In the Sixteenth Century, the Italian humanist Giulio Camillo built a ‘Theatre of Knowledge’ for the French King Francis I. Previous scholarship has debated whether this theatre was a physical place, a mental (mnemonic) space, or both. New archival evidence that has been overlooked in previous scholarship on Camillo, and his theatre, unequivocally proves for the first time that Camillo’s theatre had in fact been built in Paris. This invites a reconsideration of past reconstructions of the theatre and allows for the formulation of a new one. In this article, I have explored the hypothesis that Camillo’s theatre resembled an anatomy theatre. I have used 3D modelling and virtual reality in order to reconstruct some of the spatial features of Camillo’s theatre and explore how these insights further our understanding of his theatre in terms of historical and current practices surrounding the presentation of information and the invention of new knowledge.

Constructing the “Jewish Type”

With the emergence of new photographic technologies and processes during the second half of the nineteenth century, it became increasingly easier to pursue anthropometric research in anthropology. One group to receive particular attention was the Jewish community. This interest was due to several factors including the influx of Jewish immigrants to Britain as a result of the pogroms in the Russian Empire, easy access to subjects for the purpose of photographing and measuring them, and longstanding attempts to classify and racialize Jewish people within the human sciences. This paper will examine the construction of the supposed “Jewish type” during the late Victorian period by looking at the work of the Victorian polymath Francis Galton (1822–1911), and the Jewish folklorist and anthropologist Joseph Jacobs (1854–1916). Using the composite portraits of Jewish schoolboys that appeared in The Photographic News in 1885, the paper will explore both Galton’s and Jacobs’ visual epistemologies for constructing and representing this racial category, and the social and political factors underpinning their interpretations.