The work demands movement, and the mirrored, circular walls of the exhibition space mean Locke is reflected at you many times over. The installation also includes several of Barthe’s sculptures as well as works by American artist Matthew Angelo Harrison and African sculptures on loan from the Australian Museum. The immersive effect makes you both voyeur and witness to the theft of what Barnes called “primitive” art; you’re implicated in a colonial history you can do nothing to stop.

In the final scene, Locke stands still, eyes closed. Snow starts to fall and then rise, a surreal and dreamlike reversal of nature. As the snow falls upward, Locke reads from the words of bell hooks, the late feminist scholar, writer, activist and Julien’s close friend. Hooks’ words capture what is at the heart of Once Again... In the dream world of art, there is freedom. As an artist, I know first-hand that we can exist in art and the imagination without the burden of race, class, or nationality. That life is not something outside of us but something we absorb and carry within. Colonialism splits the individual, forcing them to internalise its standards without fully accepting them. In the film, Locke holds this tension in himself – he speaks to Barnes about the value of African art and how the West consumes it. He is a man formed by the very structures he questions.

In many ways, Locke is a mirror of Julien, who has been knighted by the British Empire and recognised for his contributions to art. This knighthood places Julien within the very structures of the power he interrogates. As with Locke’s position as a Black intellectual in a white academic world, Julien is both inside and outside. He cannot be easily categorised, and neither can his work. Once Again... gives us a way to think about art, race, and colonialism that isn’t either/or, but layered and overlapping.

Julien’s artistic gift is a queer impulse toward the reparative. Knowing the damage is done, not turning away or smoothing it over, but using art to dig through the wreck, searching for hope. Julien doesn’t use art to try to fix what’s broken. Instead, he works with what’s left, gathering fragments of stories. He makes something new from these fragments – a quiet restoration, stitching art and life together from the effects of colonialism.

Julien describes this work as “poetic restitution”, meaning Once Again… is far more than just a critique of British theft. I saw the exhibition twice. Even going alone, I couldn’t absorb all its silent details and cultural weight in one visit. Julien draws you in with visuals and sounds of tremendous beauty, and it’s within that beauty that he allows pain to slowly emerge. The film doesn’t resolve the pain so much as let it simmer quietly. It will challenge you to think about the relationship between art, history, race and sexuality in refreshing and elegant ways. It’s a must-see exhibition.

Cherine Fahd is an artist and associate professor at the University of Technology Sydney.

Once Again… (Statues Never Die) is at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney, until February 16.