Robert Capa: The definitive collection, by Richard Whelan
HANOI - It was 1954 and Robert Capa was on assignment in Indochina, then racked by war against the colonial power, France. "I will be on my good behaviour today," he told his friends. "I will not insult my colleagues, and I will not once mention the excellence of my work." That afternoon, he stepped on an anti-personnel mine. At the age of 40, Robert Capa was dead.
Capa was the greatest war photographer of his time, a storytelling bon vivant with vision and charm.
Robert Capa: The Definitive Collection is a record of Capa's photographic career. Its 937 images capture the raw intensity and fundamental humanity of his work, as well as giving us a glimpse into his personal life. It shows Gerda Taro, the great love of his life, killed in the Spanish Civil War; Ingrid Bergman, with whom Capa had an affair in the 1940s; and Capa's celebrity friends, including Ernest Hemingway, Picasso and John Steinbeck.
From Asia, there are images of Vietnam, Laos, Japan and China. Capa travelled to China in 1937, basing himself in Hankou (now part of Wuhan). Initially, he met with nothing but frustration. Trailed by spies of Madame Chiang, wife of Nationalist leader Gen. Chiang Kai-shek, he was forbidden to photograph anything that would portray China negatively. In other words, no pictures of poverty, corruption or communists--a tall order in 1930s China.
After many nights spent in Hankou's bars and White Russian cafes, he was able again to capture important images. Capa shot Chiang's War Council, photographed the Nationalist defeat of the Japanese at Tai'erzhuang, and the aftermath of Chiang's destruction of the Yellow River dykes--a vain attempt to halt the Japanese advance--which flooded 11 cities and left two million people homeless.
There are poignant photographs of Chinese civilians witnessing a Japanese bombing raid to commemorate Emperor Hirohito's birthday. In one strangely lyrical image, Capa catches shafts of sunlight illuminating a line of faces craning out of an office window as a Japanese bomber is shot down. Some are impassive, some joyous, but the face that stands out is that of the woman at the very end, her eyes bulging with horror at the death unfolding before her.
We see Zhou Enlai in front of a Karl Marx poster, a portrait of a mean-looking Madame Chiang and a widely published image of German military advisers returning to their homeland--with their railway carriage decked out in a giant swastika to warn off Japanese warplanes. Other famous images include Capa's sweeping shot of female Nationalist cadets, hands on their hips and chests puffed out.
Capa had made his reputation in 1936 in the Spanish Civil War. His controversial Falling Soldier picture, capturing a loyalist soldier at the moment of death, was widely heralded as the greatest war photograph ever taken, and remains an iconic image.
He had his first pictures published while living in Berlin--a series on Trotsky lecturing on the "Meaning of the Russian Revolution." When Hitler became German chancellor in 1933, Capa (who was Jewish-Hungarian) moved to Paris, where his career took off.
Capa left France for the United States in 1939, returning to Europe to cover the Allied march to victory against Germany in the mid-1940s. This collection of photographs includes images of Neapolitan mothers grieving for their dead children, his D-Day images of the landing on Omaha Beach, and one of a shaven-headed Frenchwoman clutching her German-fathered baby, jeered at by the surrounding mob--an image which is a searing judgment on the morality of war and the hypocrisy of victory.
At times Capa had his doubts about photography. "It's not a job for a grown man to click a camera," he said. As a result, he often became frustrated with the medium and tried to make a career for a while as a writer, actor and film maker, but with limited success.
Capa rediscovered his love of photography in Japan. For him, Japan was "a photographer's paradise." He shot festivals, temples and children and was treated like a hero.
It was 1954, and Capa's enthusiasm for photography had returned. Then came Vietnam.
Capa never meant to go to Vietnam--where the French were engaged in a bloody struggle to hang on to their colonies--but he did. He shows a grief-stricken wife weeping over her husband's grave, and a soldier leaning dreamily against a post, uncertain of his nation's future. Then there are shots of troops walking along the road from Namdinh to Thaibinh, among the last taken by Capa before his death.
The Definitive Collection is a sweeping look at Capa's work. As well as showing his best-known photographs, it includes many previously unpublished images that put his work into context. This is not a book for the casual reader, but for those interested in photojournalism and for Capa fans it's a real treat.
By Colin Pantall, The Far Eastern Economic Review - March 28, 2002
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