Whether you love it or hate it, the divisive architectural style taking over the Bolivian city of El Alto is certainly a departure from the norm, injecting bold shapes and colors into an otherwise average cityscape. Local architect Freddy Mamani, who has spent the last 18 years developing the signature style he calls “Nuevo Andino” (“New Andean”), felt that El Alto was too “monochrome.” Each of his buildings is like a unique sculptural work of art aiming to enliven the city and pay homage to ancient indigenous motifs of the area.

To understand and appreciate Mamani’s daring design decisions, it helps to know a little about the area’s history. El Alto is a the second-largest city in Bolivia outside the capital city of La Paz, and one of its fastest-growing urban centers. As millions of people have moved in from rural areas, El Alto has rapidly developed architecture and infrastructure to accommodate them. Most of the city’s residents are Amerindian, identifying as Aymara, an indigenous nation in the Andes and Altiplano regions whose ancestors lived in the area long before becoming subjects of the Inca in the 15th century and later the Spanish in the 16th century.

Centuries of colonization can wreak havoc on indigenous cultures, suppressing them (often violently) in the name of assimilation. The colors and forms of the Aymara spring back to life in a way that simply can’t be ignored through Mamani’s work. Locally, the buildings he has erected – as well as those inspired by his work – are referred to as “cholets,” reclaiming a derisive word combining “chalet” and “cholo” often used to dismiss the indigenous population in Latin American countries.

Each of these “cholets” has commercial space on the ground floor for shops, restaurants and services, while the second floor hosts a gathering space, the third offers apartments and the fourth contains the residence of the building’s owner. They all feature exaggerated geometries, asymmetrical proportions and the lines and motifs found in the ruins of the ancient Aymara city of Tiwanaku, a UNESCO World Heritage Site located about 37 miles away. Mamani has completed about 70 of these buildings in El Alto and 100 more across Bolivia.

While observers from around the world have sometimes derided the buildings with words like “ugly,” “rotten” and “gruel,” Mamani’s cholets simply weren’t made for them and don’t require their approval. Brash design choices may not be for everyone, but as many cities continue to homogenize and lose their cultural identities, some fight back against bland one-size-fits-all trends. And in El Alto, that has meant drawing in travelers who come just to take in the uniqueness of the city.

Dezeen has more information on this fascinating architectural style, including an interview with Freddy Mamani.

Photography by Yuri Segalerba

Robert Fielding’s Oz-some art cars once lit up desert highways; now they’re being painted, illuminated and photographed in their final resting places.

One does not simply drive across the Australian Outback (even in a Subaru) without being prepared for the worst. Those who took the oft-inhospitable, mostly desert region that makes up most of the Australian continent lightly have left cautionary reminders, in the form of dozens of rusting abandoned vehicles, scattered across the parched red wastelands.

Many of these junked cars, trucks, and even the odd ute (yes, we said “ute”) or two can be found in the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY for short): a 39,633.4 square mile Aboriginal local government area that occupies the remote north-west corner of South Australia state. A mere 2,276 people (as of 2016) reside in the APY lands; one of whom is artist, painter and photographer Robert Fielding (above).

Fielding is of mainly Aboriginal heritage and his home base is Mimili, a small community of under-300 situated in the rocky, drought-stricken Everard Ranges. It’s no surprise desperate travelers abandoned their vehicles in the scrubby desert just off the Stuart Highway (“The Track” through The Outback). No doubt their forlorn presence struck a chord in young Fielding, who was born in Lilla Creek just north of the APY lands.

“I’m salvaging what belonged to the elders of our communities throughout the APY Lands and from Indulkana and Mimili, and bringing these cars to life,” explains Fielding. The artist’s use of these abandoned relics of modern life as media for expressing traditional indigenous art offers a novel method of interpreting the Aboriginal experience through the prism of recent history. In other (and much less) words, it’s cool!

Fielding’s long-exposure night photographs are the result of a labor-intensive process involving the application of reflective paint and the strategic placement of natural light. “I’m lighting them up with tealight candles and giving it another feeling and another ghostly effect with what’s going on,” according to Fielding. “There’s a light within this vehicle that’s hidden in crevices throughout.” Unpredictable weather conditions and the chaotic flickering of the candles try Fielding’s patience and test his stamina as he waits to capture the perfect shot.

Fielding has no issues when it comes to redefining prehistoric art traditions for the modern age, and he’s eager to apply the latest digital technology to assist his photography. “The reason I like new media is the camera is a tool that indigenous people are very strong and proud to be in front and behind the lens,” he explains.

Fielding has stayed close to home and close to his subjects while working out of the Mimili Maku Arts center in the APY Lands. Recognition has come from afar, however, since he was awarded top prize in the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards twice in the past three years. He has also left the APY to host solo exhibitions of his work in Adelaide and Melbourne, while several of his photographs have been acquired by the National Gallery of Australia. It seems that even in The Outback, a short drive can take you a long way.