Readers of this journal are well-versed in the challenges of presenting African art in a long-term museum exhibition with collections spanning many geographies and periods. We Write to You About Africa at the University of Michigan Museum of Art (UMMA) addressed these challenges by acknowledging the limitations of museum exhibitions, while still presenting an impressive collection and diverse visual experiences. A short-term exhibition, entitled Wish You Were Here: African Art and Restitution, provided a deep dive into the topics of restitution, repatriation, and provenance. The thematic approaches of both installations engaged with multidisciplinary university audiences to stimulate discussions about racism, violence, and activism.For the main exhibition, curators Laura De Becker and Ozi Uduma drew inspiration from Dawson Weber's Postcard from Algiers (2021), especially the artist's framing of postcards as portals into other worlds (Fig. 1). The introductory text compared postcards and art collections, which the curators suggest are bothThe exhibition presented a series of “snapshots” of artworks from Africa, with material drawn primarily from UMMA's collections and complemented by loans from other University of Michigan collections.Separated into two spaces, one room addressed objects’ provenance and colonial histories (Fig. 2). For example, a pwo mask illustrated a familiar provenance case of an object removed from its place of use by a European ethnologist—without record of who made the work—and its subsequent movement through Euro-American collections. Nearby, a sejen (bird) sculpture from Côte d'Ivoire collected by a Peace Corps volunteer and a tabwa nfukula chest drum commissioned by a United States-based scholar exemplified how artists navigated changing markets. A map accompanied each label, indicating the works’ known movements.This first room also examined the ongoing legacies of colonial collecting in museum practice. Many of the works would now be considered among the “canon” of African art: headrests, chief's staffs, and an imposing nkisi (Fig. 3). The labels interrogated how authenticity has been determined in Euro-American museums—from collectors’ preference for wooden objects, a penchant for sacred objects, the separation of Egypt from the rest of Africa, and the rejection of anything representing European influence. William Adjete Wilson's No. 8, Colonization (2009) addresses the long history of the exploitation of African people, while echoing historical appliquéd textiles. Conspicuously absent from this section were discussions of looted works and the ongoing debates about restitution—which were located in a separate (temporary) exhibition in the museum, and discussed below.The exhibition's second part, “I Write to You from Africa,” quoted the artists themselves in the labels (Fig. 4). With collections from both studio and workshop artists, drawn from across campus and including a selection of works from the diaspora, this section provided a local view of the University of Michigan's many research and educational initiatives. Jon Onye Lockard's analyses of Black urban environments, Mary Sibande and Shani Peters's reimaginations of history, and William Kentridge's commentary on humor connected to themes from across the university's curriculum. In this long-term exhibition, De Becker and Uduma harnessed the possibilities of a university museum to its strongest potential. The objects and labels introduced viewers to the many challenges of researching and collecting African art. They prioritized the viewpoints of artists as they approached these histories and realities from all angles, both thematic and visual. Almost any course or public audience could find something of interest in this section.While the main galleries presented material from a broad thematic range, Wish You Were Here: African Art and Restitution focused specifically on the processes of researching provenance and facilitating possible repatriations (Fig. 6). The curators and design team constructed this small gallery space with such visual impact that the viewer could not help but appreciate the complexity of these issues. A timeline stretched from the opening text and wrapped around the gallery walls. It began in 1868 with the British troops’ plundering of material from Abyssinia (present-day Ethiopia) and continued until 2021. It included major raids and looting of African objects, groundbreaking exhibitions of this material in Europe and the United States, the history of past calls for objects’ returns, significant policy regulating returns, and recognizable cultural shifts (such as a clip from the film Black Panther [2018] and a segment from The Daily Show with Trevor Noah [2018]). The interspersal of images, ephemera, and multimedia helped to vary the learning experience as one moved through the timeline. A second timeline then described UMMA's ongoing research concerning the provenance of the exhibition's eleven works (Fig. 7). On display in the center of the room, the objects were grouped into four thematic areas: objects looted from Benin Kingdom, southeastern Nigerian shrine figures possibly removed during the 1967–1970 Biafran War, minkisi power figures from Central Africa, and a muzidi figure from the Democratic Republic of the Congo that may have once contained human remains.The research timeline began September 8, 2021. In the first step, curators reviewed object files. Often, these files included a rough estimate of a date of creation, a country of origin, and some information about the donor. By December 2021 and my second visit to the exhibition, the timeline had grown to include further information on provenance, notes on style (helpful for attribution), correspondence with specialists, acknowledgement of archival dead ends, and comparisons with similar objects. The short descriptive cards left me hungry for more information, but accurately illustrated the many ways that research proceeds—including the frustrating moments when you must stop and consider new directions. UMMA has also created an online portion of this exhibition that follows the in-progress research.While I was first drawn to the text and timelines, the objects themselves were the stars of this exhibition (Fig. 8). Viewers could see all sides of the objects: a special mount allowed viewers to see previous collection numbers on the back of a fragmentary figure of an Oba (king) from the Benin Kingdom. In this small but dense exhibition, labels encouraged visitors to take in all of the visual information, from text to physical properties. Some may criticize this exhibition for its lack of clear directives regarding the objects’ eventual return. Yet even talking about these issues in the gallery is progress, and as previewed in the opening text, this is only just a beginning of a process: “We hope that by beginning to address the injustices of colonialism, we can strengthen existing relationships and create new ones, with partners in Africa.” The long-term exhibition would be strengthened by the inclusion of some of this material, once Wish You Were Here: African Art and Restitution has closed. Together, these pendant exhibitions used resources and opportunities specific to a university museum to create innovative experiences that boldly challenged museum standards and offered opportunities for cross-disciplinary discourse. The exhibitions highlighted themes that are at the forefront of much research today, but not always emphasized in museum display: provenance, restitution, collecting histories, and racial justice. Rather than offering concrete solutions, the curators presented research as an ongoing process. Much like a great university course, the exhibitions functioned as a starting point for further learning and action. I look forward to future updates from UMMA about the results of this project.