A male Lobi Puguli sculpture, Burkina Faso, according of Petra Schuetz and Detlev Linse "dürfte es sich um den Schnitzer Outtara Zoumou, (geb. 1968) handeln oder dessen Vater Outtara Kounkoro.", Kunst & Kontextr, 22, S. 40, - 42. The sculptural traditions of the Lobi cultural region in southwestern Burkina Faso and the adjacent border areas of Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana occupy a distinctive position within the study of West African religious art. Among the groups inhabiting this region, the Lobi and the closely related Puguli communities have developed a corpus of wooden figures that are at once materially modest and conceptually complex. These sculptures are not primarily aesthetic objects produced for external appreciation but rather ritual instruments embedded in a living system of belief and practice. Their meaning derives from their relationship to spiritual forces, social structures, and the architectural spaces of the household shrine. In this sense, the study of Lobi and Puguli sculpture demands an approach that integrates formal analysis with ethnographic observation. Within Lobi cosmology, carved figures commonly referred to as bateba function as mediators between humans and the invisible spiritual entities known as thila. These spirits are believed to regulate the moral and social order of the community and to intervene in matters of illness, protection, fertility, and fortune. The commissioning of a figure generally occurs through divination. A diviner interprets the will of the thila and instructs the family to obtain a particular type of sculpture. Once carved, the figure is installed on a shrine or altar within the family compound, where it becomes an active participant in ritual life. Offerings, libations, and periodic consultations reaffirm the relationship between the household and the spirit world. The sculpture therefore functions less as a representation of a spirit than as a locus through which spiritual power can be stabilized and addressed. The formal appearance of Lobi and Puguli figures reflects both the ritual requirements of this context and the conventions transmitted within local carving traditions. Sculptures are typically carved from dense hardwood and present a frontal, upright stance with simplified anatomical forms. Limbs are often rendered as cylindrical extensions, while the head may appear disproportionately large, emphasizing the locus of perception and spiritual agency. Surface treatment is usually minimal, and traces of ritual use—such as sacrificial residues or accumulations of clay and oils—often transform the appearance of the object over time. Although the visual language of these figures may appear abstract or severe from a Western art-historical perspective, the forms are understood locally through a network of symbolic associations and ritual prescriptions. The Puguli, a smaller group within the broader Lobi cultural sphere, share many cosmological and ritual practices with their neighbors while maintaining certain distinctive sculptural tendencies. Puguli figures are often characterized by a particularly elongated or slender proportion and a pronounced geometric reduction of the body. As with Lobi sculpture, these works are commissioned for shrine contexts and produced by local carvers who operate within familial or regional traditions. The circulation of sculptural ideas across neighboring communities complicates strict stylistic classifications and challenges earlier museum taxonomies that attempted to attribute figures to rigid ethnic categories. The research conducted by Petra Schütz and Detlef Linse represents a significant contribution to the understanding of this sculptural tradition. Beginning in the late 1990s, they undertook sustained fieldwork in the Lobi region with the aim of documenting sculptures in their original cultural environment. Their approach responds to a long-standing problem within the historiography of African art: the majority of objects in European and North American collections were acquired during the twentieth century without detailed information regarding their makers, owners, or ritual functions. As a result, many works were classified according to generalized stylistic labels, often detached from the specific communities and individuals responsible for their creation. Schütz and Linse’s work seeks to restore this missing context through careful documentation of shrines, sculptors, and local histories of production. By visiting villages, interviewing carvers and shrine owners, and photographing sculptures in situ, they have been able to identify individual artists and reconstruct networks of apprenticeship and transmission. This methodology challenges the persistent notion that African ritual sculpture is fundamentally anonymous. Instead, it reveals a dynamic field of artistic practice in which identifiable individuals develop recognizable styles while responding to the ritual demands of their communities. A central aspect of their research involves the correlation of sculptural form with specific carvers and workshops. Through comparative visual analysis and ethnographic inquiry, they have documented families of sculptors whose works share particular structural features, such as the treatment of limbs, the shaping of the head, or the articulation of the torso. In some cases, living sculptors have been able to identify works produced by their teachers or relatives, allowing for a rare continuity between historical objects and contemporary knowledge. This process demonstrates that stylistic variation within the Lobi region is not simply the result of abstract “tribal style” but reflects the creative agency of individual makers operating within shared conventions. Equally important is the attention Schütz and Linse give to the spatial and ritual setting of the sculptures. Rather than isolating the figure as an art object, their photographic and textual documentation situates it within the architecture of the household shrine, surrounded by other ritual elements such as sacrificial stones, clay vessels, and accumulations of offerings. These contexts reveal how sculptures interact with a broader assemblage of materials and practices that together constitute the shrine’s spiritual efficacy. The meaning of a figure is therefore inseparable from its placement, its history of ritual activation, and the ongoing relationship between the household and the spirits it addresses. Their research also engages critically with the international art market and the history of museum collecting. Many Lobi and Puguli sculptures entered collections during periods when little effort was made to record provenance or maker information. As a consequence, objects have frequently been attributed to broad stylistic categories or even misidentified in terms of cultural origin. By providing detailed field documentation and establishing connections between individual sculptors and specific works, Schütz and Linse contribute to a more nuanced understanding of these objects and challenge earlier interpretive frameworks. In this perspective, Lobi and Puguli sculpture emerges not merely as an aesthetic tradition but as a complex cultural practice shaped by religious belief, social relations, and individual artistic skill. The figures embody a dialogue between human communities and the invisible forces that structure their world. At the same time, they bear the imprint of particular hands and local histories of carving. The work of Schütz and Linse demonstrates that the careful integration of art-historical analysis with long-term ethnographic research can illuminate both dimensions, allowing the sculptures to be understood simultaneously as ritual agents and as products of identifiable artistic traditions. Inv. No. CAB38209