Fleeting Glimpses
Fred Stein, “Gerda Taro and Robert Capa on the terrace of Café du Dôme in Montparnasse, Paris”
Stepping out of the rain into the International Center of Photography, I welcomed the light and warmth of the building’s entrance and main lobby area. It was when I had caught my breath and started to look up, however, that the true power of the Mexican Suitcase exhibit hit me.
The exhibit consisted of a collection of long lost negatives that were taken during the Spanish Civil War. The three photographers whose works were in the Suitcase (Robert Capa, Gerda Taro, and Chim—real name David Seymour) were all closely involved in documenting the wonders and horrors of this time of turmoil in world history. As I followed the gentle flow of people passing along the length of the carefully crafted exhibit, I found myself surrounded by not only pictures of the actual events of war, but also the documentation—the permanent depiction—of common people who lived during this time: people who breathed the electrified air of discordant opinion. Seeing the faces, the expressions of these people—not just images of soldiers, political leaders—gave new perspective. Often, when we reflect upon history, we envision only those directly involved with wars, battles and conflicts—But what of the rest of the world?
ICP reinforced this revelation by exhibiting different media representations of the conflict: one such example was the French news magazine Regards, which used many of the lost pictures from the “Mexican Suitcase” to actively chronicle the events of the Spanish Civil War. These glimpses, however fleeting, into not only the major events but also the more individualized repercussions of this conflict, gave much more of a platform on which to appreciate both the events themselves as well as the view that the photographers Capa, Taro, and Chim were able to capture in such a turmoil-ridden time.
One aspect of the exhibition that successfully heightened both the emotion and relevance of the photographs specifically, as opposed to what major events they captured, was the curator’s choice to explain the relationship between photographers Capa and Taro. Although they worked together, that was not the extent of their relationship—they were romantically involved as well. Looking at their photography—and seeing pictures of them, smiling and interacting–one can imagine how they saw the images they captured through both a literal and metaphorical lens, as well as the joys (and tragedies) of their relationship. They witnessed these events happening, and we can see the emotion in the faces of those in the photographs–but the exhibit’s efforts to give some background on the photographers’ work allows viewers a tiny, yet significant glimpse into someone else’s reflection on the events they viewed as they were happening: a dramatic revelation that makes our response today, however removed from these events we may be, that much more powerful.
I walked into the International Center of Photography with a dry, simple notion of what happened during some turmoil at some time in history. However, after seeing through the eyes of those who tried so hard to capture the truth, the real events that affected real people—people I’ll never meet, some I’ll never even know the names of—I left with a newfound appreciation of the gravity of the events that affected the people in and around the Spanish Civil War—something that no textbook could ever hope to achieve.
