More than 60 years after the end of World War II, Terezín still looks like a shuttered fortress town. Though people have moved in and out through the various changes of regime, many of the buildings in the town remain locked. As one walks through the city by day or night, there is still little evidence of the Terezín community.

This ghost town, however, is not entirely without life.

"What speaks for the community, what seems to be liveliest there, are these 1960s, '70s and '80s Škodas," said Rosie Potter, a UK photographer. "They're everywhere. It's the color within this monochromatic landscape."

Potter and fellow photographer Patricia Ayre were so fascinated by the visual impact of colorful Škodas on the bleak Terezín streets that they turned it into one of their "visual sociology" exhibitions, which deal mostly with communities on the edge. "The Škodas are the signifiers of the regenerating community of Terezín," Potter said.

"Škodaville," by Potter and Ayre, went on display Sept. 8 in the Škoda Museum in Mladá Boleslav, and will be up for a month. Along with real-life examples of classic cars, the exhibit celebrates two anniversaries currently being observed by the museum: the 10th anniversary of the opening of the Škoda Museum and 100 years of Škoda automotive production.

"Considering the theme of the photographs, and due to the fact that they are related to our company, we didn't have any objections," said museum spokeswoman Hana Palátová. "The artists wanted to combine the exhibition with the anniversaries of Škoda, so together we made it happen."

The idea of Škodaville was born serendipitously, when Potter and Ayre were working on another project called "Für das Kind." This touring exhibition is part of a wider memorial to the individuals involved in the rescue of 10,000 mostly Jewish children escaping Nazi persecution just before the outbreak of World War II. While installing it at the Ghetto Museum in Terezín in 2003, Potter and Ayre were struck by a sense of a community very slowly trying to rebuild itself in the midst of haunting memorials.

"We walked around the town at all times of the day and night, often encountering no other inhabitants," said Potter. "Terezín seemed to lay largely petrified, veiled from the modern world." The photographers found something else, however, that in their eyes gave evidence of life in Terezín. "The Škodas, all patchworked in different colors, with their owners polishing them, were a kind of heartbeat," said Potter. "So we came back to photograph them."

In talking to the artists about their work, it's clear that a project such as this could only be accomplished with the viewpoint of an outsider. For a person from the Czech or Slovak Republic, Škodas might not seem especially significant or spectacular; the cars are part of their daily lives. But to Potter and Ayre, the cars signify a particular moment in the changing history of Terezín.

"We want to bring these moments of social history out of their wintriness, out of the glass museum cases, and let the continually changing audience re-examine them, interpret them and review them," said Potter. "These are moments of change that might otherwise be lost."

Potter and Ayre's images of Škodas in the streets of Terezín seem almost unreal, with ramshackle houses and destroyed facades in the background. The cars are parked in rows of two or three, sometimes in the light of the rising sun or under starry skies. Through the lenses of Potter and Ayre, the Škodas seem almost mystical, like living, breathing creatures from another world.

"One can document a community in many different ways — through architecture, through objects," said Potter. "The Škodas are our portrait of the community of Terezín."