Capamania
Robert Capa (1913-1954, the iconic WWII photographer, died
63 years ago but his gypsy charm continues to fascinate the ladies, this blogger
was familiar with his body of work, but knew little of his short life until now.
His photo collection and publications
are exclusively promoted and exhibited by the International Center of
Photography (ICP) located in New York City.
ICP was founded by Capa’s younger brother Cornell, and is the official
custodian of Capa’s photos and legacy. The
Magnum[1]
co-operative (established by Capa and some of his buddy photographers in 1947
as Magnum Photos) also exhibits Capa’s photos.
At the occasion of the exhibition of Capa’s color photos[2]
in Rio de Janeiro (ICP event), a friend recommended that this blogger read Blood and Champagne, The Life and Times of Robert Capa, a biography
written by Alex Kershaw (2002)[3].
The book was not displayed in the ICP
collection either in Manhattan or in Rio. Cornell Capa, the zealous guardian of his
brother’s reputation, did not authorize the biography.
Although sympathetic to his subject, Blood and Champagne is not a hagiography of the charismatic and
footloose war photographer, Capa comes across very much alive. Kershaw compensates the absence of Capa’s
iconic photos by making entertaining revelations. He was born Endre Friedmann in Budapest and
was reborn Robert Capa in Paris in 1933. Capa[4]
sounded less Jewish and more Hollywood, definitely more glamorous. His metamorphosis led him to a photojournalist
job to cover the horrors of the Spanish Civil War. Spain set the stage for his unparalleled war
photography career and gambler’s addiction to risk. In 17 years, Capa photographed five wars:
Spain, China, WWII in Europe and North Africa, Israel and Indochina.
Spain was his most passionate and dramatic war experience,
driven by his hatred of fascism and his romantic view of the socialist
ideology. Gerda Taro, the love of his
life and fellow photographer was killed in Spain[5]. His most famous and most controversial picture
was also taken in Spain: The Falling
Soldier shows a man in a white shirt, rifle in arms being shot. Action pictures were often hard to shoot, and
staging was common practice. At Capa’s
request, the Republican soldier may have faked his death. The jury is still out. Capa claimed that he would not take a war
assignment unless he loved one side and hated the other. This statement is not entirely true: in 1954,
he covered the Indochina war on the French army side not for hatred of the Communists,
but because he needed the money. Did his
luck run out because he did not stick to his principles?
This blogger would have suggested to Kershaw an alternative
title for the biography: “War, Sex, Booze
and Gambling.” Doe-eyed with cameras dangling from his neck
and a cigarette from his lips, Capa charmed his way around. He was a man of addictions with a peripatetic
lifestyle. He was a notorious womanizer;
a consummate; compulsive and obsessive gambler; a boozer and a heavy smoker. During WWII, he was burning the candle at
both ends. When not on the war set,
Capa’s daily routine was still chaotic but more leisurely. It started with a long bath, usually in a
hotel or at friends’ homes where he studied his betting options on the
racecourse, planned his poker games and organized his dates with women. Lunch was taken with colleagues. A little sex took place in the afternoon, and
nights were dedicated to champagne parties, women and gambling. Capa’s list of women reads like the London,
Paris and Hollywood who’s who. His taste
in women was utterly democratic; he would indiscriminately switch from a whore
in the afternoon to a glitterati or society lady for dinner. His female conquests were usually married,
and he doggedly rejected formal commitment by blaming his daredevil photojournalistic
lifestyle. However, in 1939, to become
an American citizen, Capa married a New York City woman in a quickie ceremony, a
green card marriage before green
cards emerged. His most spectacular
catch was movie star Ingrid Bergman. Their
under-the-radar romance was not missed by Hitchcock, his film Rear Window with Grace Kelly and James
Stewart was partly based on the affair. Actress
and inventor Hedy Lamarr and Vivien Leigh complete his outstanding movie star
list. In Paris, he bedded
aristo-courtesan Pamela Churchill, and may have had a fling with luminaries such
as writer Simone de Beauvoir and journalist Martha Gellhorn (Ernest Hemingway’s
much scorned third wife).
In the early 1950s, having run out of wars, with limited
business opportunities and persecuted by the FBI for his alleged Communist
sympathies, Capa had a mid-life crisis. This
blogger believes that Capa had lost his mojo, and could no longer keep up
appearances. His peacetime photos are by
and large, uninspiring, they reflect his directionless life. His gambling was obsessive and he routinely lost
large amounts of money in casinos or playing poker with his friends. Actor Humphrey Bogart and movie director John
Huston were superior poker players, they routinely took him to the cleaners. He kept losing and his life became hand-to-mouth. Capa was in a funk. He couldn’t compete with the intellectual
superiority and fame of his talented friends, such as Irwin Shaw, John Steinbeck
and Ernest Hemingway. Capa may have felt
despondent.
Indochina looked like a lifesaver, he would be back in his
element, une fuite en avant, a rush
forward to play for time to reinvent himself.
But fate caught up with him. On
May 25, 1954, clutching his camera he was blown up by a landmine, his mangled body
in a pool of blood. He died like he
lived, as if there were no tomorrow.
Robert Capa’s legend lives on, probably because his life was cut
short. His charisma continues to
fascinate the public, and his photographs attract people who have little
knowledge of the period he lived in.
Behind the photos, one sees a rogue, daredevil and passionate man. If he had lived, he might have died of lung
cancer: all these cigarettes dangling from his lips. To die in one’s sleep is an ignominy for a
war correspondent.
[1] A
magnum is a 1.5 liter bottle of champagne.
[5] She
became the first woman photojournalist to die in a war.
I can't forward comments.
ReplyDeletePosted on behalf of L.C. :Loved the blog! Captured Capa in all his morally ambiguous glory!
ReplyDeletePosted on behalf of a friend who doesn't have a google account: "J'ai tjrs admiré Capa. Il y a eu il y qqs temps un gros article sur lui dans Jours de France. Je préfère le tien." PH.D.
ReplyDelete