It is the 100th anniversary of the birth of war photographer Robert Capa and what seems particularly poignant, is a shift in the attitude of the photography establishment to acknowledge the controversy surrounding his work as part of the
commemoration. Up until this point the reaction to the increasing evidence against the authenticity of Capa's most famous image has been more of a ‘head in the sand’ mentality, that has infected any decent
debate about ‘Falling
Soldier’.
This new pragmatism acknowledges the
discrepancies in his career that challenge his journalistic authenticity, whilst
celebrating his skill as a great photographer; re-branding him as a ‘war artist’.
Rather brilliant yes but…
To truly appreciate why the photography
world might be so twitchy about challenging this photographer’s legacy, let us
imagine for a moment the consequences of the complete destruction of Capa’s
reputation as a photojournalist. What if we accept that Falling Soldier was
in fact NOT shot in an area of conflict during the Spanish Civil war but on
exercises miles away from any action but then presented as the former?
"The truth is the best picture..." - Robert Capa
I remember being deeply shocked by the evidence presented against 'Falling Soldier', it shook my foundations of trust in photojournalism but I was more disappointed by the complete lack of acknowledgement of its importance across all sections of the photographic community. I am not challenging the quality of Capa’s
work and I agree with the vested interests, that he is one of the great photographers, what
is at stake is a larger issue of documentary truth. We must accept that the entire emotional reaction to ‘Falling
Soldier’ is dependent on its veracity; its strength is
not in its composition but purely in the belief that this is a terrible moment
in time, captured by a photographer caught in the heat of action. If the
circumstances are called into question, the images power is diminished. To recognise this ambiguity and attempt to re-catagorise Capa under the contemporary label of 'artist' is in danger of weakening confidence in photojournalism.
Under these circumstances, to continue to celebrate Capa as a poster boy
of the photojournalistic genre may be a dog whistle to all future generations that
look up to the amazing organisations like Magnum (co-founded
by Capa himself), The International Centre of Photography (founded by his brother Cornell Capa) and the Ian Parry Scholarship that nurtures a new generation, that ‘anything goes’ in
the pursuit of an image to illustrate an event that traditionally requires some
objective self-awareness.
"If you call yourself an artist, you won't get anything published. Call yourself a photojournalist, and then you can do whatever you want. "- Robert Capa
But if we start to accept the ambiguity
surrounding this one image and debate Capa’s legacy openly, there is a chance
to learn from it in a constructive way. What are the pressures on the
photographer to capture the definitive moment for their hungry editors at home?
The last great days of objective
documentary photography seem to have passed with the changing face of modern newspapers
and magazines that feel they must appease their advertisers. Don McCullin articulated
these issues in a great documentary film about his life. The media no longer
want images that show the stark reality of humanity, the advertisers feel it
sits too uncomfortably with their finely crafted portrayals of consumerism;
they don’t want a starving baby or mangled corpse opposite their 2 for 1 offer
for a chocolate bar or a shiny car.
The contemporary war photographer doesn’t
have the same access afforded to the great photojournalists of the past. PR agencies control access to the situations that may reflect badly on our countries’
actions. Photographers can be ‘over-looked’
for trips if they are deemed unsuitable and of course wars are fought
differently now with a stronger emphasis on virtual warfare to limit the casualties
brought home. My photographer brain tells me that this has led inevitably to
photographers like Tim Hetherington being forced to revert to a fine art
practice, creating personal and interpretive projects from what is available. See
Hetherington’s tender, homoerotic sleeping soldiers. These projects are heavily loaded with the personal views of the photographer and are
less about an irrefutable defining and 'truthful' moment. Mari Bastashevski records the banality of modern warfare and the actual lack of access to the photographer within her work.
At this point, where the photographic
community is marking the 100th anniversary of Capa’s birth, (he was killed by a landmine whilst covering the ending years of the first
Indochina war in 1954) celebrating the hard work both he and
his brother did in the advancement and promotion of photography, setting
up enduring and extremely influential institutions, we should take the
opportunity to re-evaluate our definitions of 'photojournalism' and 'art' and think
carefully about what message we are sending out to a new generation.
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| Loyalist Militiaman at the Moment of Death, Cerro Muriano, 1936 © Robert Capa Estate |
Alcantara, Korengal Valley, Kunar Province, Afghanistan, 2008 Digital C-print © Tim Hetherington Estate
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Head office of a major arms industry outlet.
Permission to photograph inside was declined. State Business, Chapter II. From
the series "State Business" © Mari Bastashevski
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