The kusillo is one of the most enigmatic figures in Bolivian folklore and dance. Most often seen as a buffoon or jester-like character, this animated clown can be found in a wide variety of traditional dances from the Aymara communities in and around the city of La Paz, always leaping and creeping in and out of packs of dancers, teasing his way through amused crowds.
The acrobatic and comic dances of the kusillo are unmistakable, but the most striking thing about him is his appearance. Tall and lanky, this long-nosed clown has clothes that are often sewn together with a variety of fabrics, including solid colors, pinstripes, and elaborate rainbow patterns. Even his mask is often stitched together from one or more patterns, to comic effect.
Characters in folklore everywhere are always changing, and the kusillo is no different. In today’s festivals, including La Paz’s Gran Poder and Oruro’s massive annual Carnaval celebrations, kusillos of all colors can be found dancing in costumes that are becoming more and more elaborate and gilded. Kusillo costumes of the past, however, were more humbler affairs, piecing together dirty and plain fabric in a patchwork of patterns. And in some ways, such a patchwork of patterns is fitting of this character of unclear origin.
One of the most popular beliefs surrounding the kusillo is that the character is in fact a mono, or monkey; others equate him with a tricky fox, relating his history to local Aymara folktales. Some even believe the kusillo is an adulterous adventurer, wandering the streets of towns and cities in search of women to seduce. Perhaps tied to this idea of ‘fertility’, in rural settings our jokester friend is often associated with successful harvests and agricultural abundance.
Bolivia is a lot like a kusillo: what you see is a patchwork of history, tradition, and modern expectations, presented as a beautiful and complete whole. And the end results are important cultural markings of unclear origins. This month we wanted to celebrate the ways in which historic and cultural diversity in Bolivia converge before our eyes to make up the wonders that make this country what it is today. With the idea of ‘patchworks’ in mind, we took the spirit of our loveable kusillo, and his unknown origin and rag-tag appearance, to look at Bolivia in rich new ways.
In this issue of Bolivian Express, we spend time with Lucia Campero at her store, Mistura, where she and the team have created a boutique shopping experience bringing together artisanal traditions and modern style. We sit down and have a beer with Panchi Maldonado, who for more than 20 years has been mixing musical styles with his wildly successful band, Atajo, which he is retiring – hopefully for the first but not last time – in April. We learn from amateur paleontologists trying to solve the mysteries behind the aquatic fossils littering the rocky slopes where the 18,000-year-old glacier at Chacaltaya once rested before completely disappearing ten years ago. We explore how a web of ‘fake news’ and ‘alternative facts’ have woven together Bolivia’s current political climate, and wander the streets and galleries of Cochabamba to uncover the city’s state of modern art through its many contributors.
Bolivia is much like a kusillo: it is full of life and energy, can always make you laugh, and is at times provocative and flirtatious. And akin to a kusillo, both Bolivia’s tradition and modern appearance is the result of a patchwork of ideas and origins. Because of his rich yet unclear history and pieced-together appearance, the kusillo is very memorable, something that can stick with you for a very long time. Hopefully with this issue of Bolivian Express, you will find Bolivia to be the same.
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Photo: Sophie Hogan
Cochabamba's Struggle to put Art Back on the Map
The dawn has bloomed just enough for a beautiful orange sky as I step off the bus. Walking through the streets, which are bathed in soft light, I notice people appear gradually as the minutes tick by. I find myself eager to begin my search for what I have come for: the contemporary art scene that this sprawling city in central Bolivia has to offer.
Cochabamba is no stranger to art. It has been a centre for some of Bolivia’s most interesting and mesmerising pieces, dating back to the nineteenth century. During the battle for independence, religious art quickly became popular and depictions of Jesus appeared more frequently within the city and its surrounding towns and villages. Traditional art, although still popular in Cochabamba, isn’t the focus any longer. These days, it’s more common to see modern and contemporary art adorning the galleries here.
There are some galleries scattered around the city, but many of them are hidden and difficult to find. The gems that one can come across in such places, however, are hardly taxing to behold. The problem lies in the amount of local art that can truly be found here. Increasingly, it’s become more of a rarity to see the work of actual cochabambino artists in their own city.
Alejandra Dorado is a contemporary performance artist who knows all too well about the industry, which seems to be suffering under the surface. ‘I think Cochabamba is suffering a crisis in art,’ she frowns. ‘A very, very strong division exists here between traditional art and modern art.'
We are sitting in her ultramodern studio, her own contemporary pieces thrown into the mix around the room. In one corner lies a t-shirt rack covered with intricate modern designs, while in another is a beautiful selection of small tapestries she has created. Next to the tapestries there are books she features in and has written. Furthermore, from her full-length window there is a view of the green mountains in front and the bustling city running smoothly below.
'I’ve put together a piece with a friend for the only performance art festival there is here in Cochabamba,’ Dorado says. ‘It only happens once every three years, because there simply aren't enough artists to fill the festival. There is an extremely small number of contemporary artists here in Cochabamba; we are talking about those who work with concept, with context, about the times now. Here, there just aren’t enough for the scene to flourish.’
It is clear to me that Dorado takes her work extremely seriously. She believes it impacts others and helps people understand issues through a type of art that is uncommon in a city such as this. Her pieces are usually based on gender issues, and she has recently worked on projects with a more political stance to try and give her view and promote that of those who inspire her art. However, according to Dorado, the issue is that there just isn’t an audience.
Alba Balderrama is the Cultural Coordinator of the Palacio Portales, an art museum in the heart of the cultural centre of the city. She agrees that, despite her museum’s continuing popularity, the scene is definitely having its problems. ‘We invite both contemporary and traditional artists to our gallery, and our popularity remains mostly 50/50 when it comes to preference between the two. Our most popular international artists come from Argentina, and in recent years the amount of artists, especially Bolivian, that we have had featured has decreased.’
Elsewhere, Cochabamba’s Casa de La Cultura, a local house for artists and different types of recreational activities, is hosting an exhibition for the artist Mario Unzueta. The majority of his pieces are paintings that focus on people and animals with varying flares of colour. His work seems tame compared with Alejandra Dorado’s studio. In particular it is not as exciting, although outrightly Bolivian, but it is clear that such art draws people in the city. It seems they prefer to hold on to tradition instead of exploring new forms in the art they choose to pay attention to.
In Cochabamba, both traditional and contemporary art seem to be trumped by another emerging type: the beautiful, bustling world of street art. Over the last three years, Cochabamba’s Proyecto mARTadero, which is a street art project in the city, has gained huge popularity worldwide and attracted hundreds of different street artists. During my morning exploring the streets, I saw beautiful, free-spirited art that was clearly less tied to any sort of convention than their traditional and contemporary counterparts. Not only the time frame makes them modern, as the murals tackle political, gender, and succinctly Bolivian issues. One notable example is a cholita who looks to the side with a quote written underneath: ‘All that I had and all that I was, without testament, is lost to the wind'. It is a rather apt quote for the plight of people like Dorado, who continue to fight to have their art recognised here.
Proyecto mARTadero does not only deal in street art. The organisation has a website dedicated to providing a platform for art – whether it be contemporary, musical, traditional, or literary. For those who believe the art scene here is failing, it is a welcome tool to bolster cochabambino art. After the recent years of struggle, perhaps Cochabamba's art scene may flourish sooner than one can predict. The immediate future looks difficult, but the long-term could be much brighter.
Alejandra Dorado's studio can be found in Cala Cala, Cochabamba. The Palacio Portales Museum is located on Calle Potosi, just off Avenida América. Find out more about Proyecto mARTadero at www.martadero.org.
Photos: Nick Somers and Sophie Hogan
A Concept Store for Bolivia's Best and Brightest
Mistura’s name comes from the word ‘mixture’. When one walks in the door of the store on Calle Sagarnaga, La Paz’s most touristy street, it is clear why. Luisa Campero, the young and ambitious leader of this concept boutique takes Bolivia’s unique and impressive blend of cultures and amalgamates them into a gorgeous array of products. Although the items scream modernity and innovation, they still highlight the most beautiful aspects of traditional Bolivian culture. From designer alpaca garments, to books, to Bolivian-style hats and beautiful bath products, this place has everything necessary for a supreme artisan shopping experience.
Luisa has a strong, business-like manner, but not enough to deem her unapproachable. She looks like a successful young woman who has worked hard to get to the floor she stands upon now – and so she has.
'It was 2013, and we started the shop as four women,’ Campero says. ‘I was the one who was mostly in charge of the creation, but I was always in contact with them and keeping them updated.’ We are sitting in the neighbouring Café Banais which, along with the Hostal Naira upstairs, is linked to the store. Customers drinking their coffee can take a sneak peek at the wonderful products on display at Mistura through a large window.
Mistura opened in September of 2013, featuring the work of 14 designers. Now, as the shop has developed its relationship with other artists, it is working with small firms and people who are just coming out of university, as well as with larger companies. 'These days, we work with over 80 designers from all over Bolivia, and only Bolivia,’ Louisa says. ‘We are constantly renovating, constantly innovating.'
Mistura’s location on Calle Sagarnaga is ideal because nearly every tourist who visits La Paz visits the street to buy souvenirs, be it llama sweaters, silver earrings, or paintings. 'The only problem with being here is that we can't really expand,' she says. 'We have the creative minds and the ideas for design, but there is the issue of managing the business.’ The shop is rather small for the amount of amazing products hidden within, as I walk around I see the most odd mixture of things. In one corner sits a Cholita hat, fashioned to be a little smaller and a touch more modern. As I walk past it, a tourist excitedly bounds over to try it on. In the secluded back section, there lies artisan soaps, the most gorgeous collection of Bolivian-made jewellery and a wealth of books about Bolivia’s rich history and culture.
It isn’t only the shop itself that represents the idea of mixture. The logo that Campero and her associates eventually chose also expresses the store's vision. ‘We had a series of old, precious Bolivian photos,’ Campero says. ‘There was a special one of a boy from the country and a boy from the city standing side by side. The details of the two represent Bolivia perfectly. It's the idea that Bolivia has this air of diversity, the mix of cultures behind it, which is why we decided to use it as our logo.’ The full logo isn't often used, but it is an apt portrayal of the store's identity.
After more than three years of pouring her heart and soul into this concept store, it’s only fair for one to be curious about Luisa’s favourite selling point. ‘I think my favourite product would be the t-shirts we have by all the designers,’ she says. ’They are really creative. There's one with the Valle de La Luna that I really love, and another with the cholitas walking along the road. These designs are just incredible; the garments are made of Alpaca wool, and the sweaters we have in the store are wonderful. It's not just their designs that are great, but the quality is also super.’
Campero’s vision for the store has most certainly come to fruition. Although her mantra is ‘keep changing and moving forward’, what doesn’t seem to change is her desire to help the people of Bolivia through the sales in her store. ‘One of the things I've loved most about this shop is promoting the local talent, and we're always discovering something new to work with,’ she says. With exclusively Bolivian designer products adorning the shelves, that is exactly what she has achieved.
Mistura can be found on Calle Sagarnaga, no.123, La Paz.
Photos: Nick Somers
Piecing Together the Haphazard History of Bolivia’s Air Force
I’m speaking with Lt. Col. Heriberto Hermosa at the airfield of the Fuerza Aérea Boliviana, the Bolivian Air Force, just off Avenida Juan Pablo II in El Alto. ‘That is the runway from where the first plane took off in the entirety of Bolivia,’ he says. Without reacting to my intake of breath, he then points in the opposite direction. ‘There we saw seven deaths with the first aeroplane crash,’ he adds.
This month, El Alto will see the opening of its second public museum. The Museo Aeroespacial, situated within the Bolivian Air Force base itself, features 20 aeroplanes and three helicopters operated by the military between 1942 and 2007. The machines are housed within two sizeable hangars, constructed in 1920 and 1926 respectively, and outside on the airfield. The oldest plane on display is from 1920, a Boeing-Stearman PT-17 biplane. Originally painted a crimson red, it was changed to yellow and blue at some point during its career.
Also on display is a scale reconstruction of the Bolivia-Paraguay front-line during the Chaco War (1932–1935), in which the two countries fought for control of the northern Gran Chaco region, the scorched flatlands southwest of present-day Bolivia which were thought to be rich in oil (they weren’t). In the exhibit, mannequins hold authentic firearms from the time of the conflict.
Of the numerous photos and portraits of aviators which are displayed in the one hangar, Amalia Villa de la Tapia (1893–1994) is the only female. De la Tapia was the first Bolivian woman to obtain a pilot’s license, which she gained in 1922 after completing a year of aviation training. Despite her abilities, however, her gender and the country’s patriarchal attitudes towards the ‘weaker sex’ prevented her from participating in the Chaco War.
The museum shows in depth the different types of planes from the past and present of the Bolivian Air Force, which include reconnaissance aeroplanes equipped with cameras and various types of sensors, experimental vehicles designed to test out new aerodynamic and structural principles, and military transports for both troops and equipment.
There are also three flight simulators that visitors can use to test their flying abilities, one of which demonstrates the difficulty lifting off from El Alto’s altitudinally intense runway, battling against the unpredictable sheer force of the altiplano’s strong winds. ‘Our own pilots have used this particular simulator,’ says Lieutenant Colonel Hermosa, showing me what seems to be a simple painted wooden box.
Turning away from history and back to the present, the Bolivian Air Force currently has two reconnaissance planes in service, 11 planes primarily for transport, 21 working helicopters, and 42 trainer aircraft.
