Tim Hetherington Untitled, Liberia, 2003 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York
It is almost exactly a year since Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros were killed in Misrata, Libya. The passage of time is always somewhat of a surprise, even as we are powerless to affect it. The first exhibit of Tim’s work at Yossi Milo has just opened, and it was definitely the place to be last week.
The show is divided into work from Liberia (in the front room) and Afghanistan in the back. The work is large, the prints sharp, and the overwhelming sense is of a photographer just reaching his stride. “When someone dies, they die midsentence,” said his mother, Judith. That is so evident when you look at Tim's work, and I don't mean just his photos, but his films as well. Both Restrepo and Sleeping Soldiers bring war and the men who fight it to us in a way that is so personal, so without pretense, that we are brought closer to the humanity we might have forgotten.
The Liberia work as shown doesn’t have the cohesion that the Afghanistan work has. There are some marvelous images, but it seems more unfocused. This is more due to the image choices, then the work itself. The selection of images are only linked by location, and so as wonderful as they are, their impact is lessened. We don't know why Tim was there, or what he covered. For those who don't know about the country and Tim's experience there it is hard to see a thread running through this part of the exhibit.. Tim Hetherington Untitled, Liberia, 2005 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York Tim Hetherington Untitled, Liberia, 2004 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York
But it is obvious that in AfghanistanTim found himself. His desire to get to the core of the men and the war is so evident, and the photos so alive, you can imagine Tim there taking the photos. There is such a tenderness in those photos, not just because they capture these young men at their most vulnerable, but because you can feel Tim’s heart. That’s how strongly the experience is imprinted. Tim Hetherington Untitled, Korengal Valley, Kunar Province, Afghanistan, 2008 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York
Walking into the back room where the Afghanistan photos are I am stopped by the shocking intimacy of the Restrepo work, especially the sleeping soldiers. As I look at the photo of the men fooling around I can still see Tim—imagine him there. That’s how strongly the experience is imprinted. Tim Hetherington Alcantara, Korengal Valley, Kunar Province, Afghanistan, 2008 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York Tim Hetherington Kelso, Korengal Valley, Kunar Province, Afghanistan, 2008 Digital C-print (c) Tim Hetherington, Courtesy Yossi Milo Gallery, New York
Hung as though we are looking at men in childhood bunk beds, the impact of the work is heightened. I am once again struck by how young they all seem, and by how close they are to each other. There is a physical intimacy between the soldiers that you don't usually see in photos. But that is part of Tim's gift: his ability to become one with his subjects, and so they let him into their world. Tim held the door opened and allowed us to enter a world we are not a part of. That was one of Tim's gifts.
Like all artists, Tim Hetherington's work outlives him. For that I am grateful, but the loss is even more keen because of the unique way in which he viewed the world, and because of his fierce desire to peel back the obvious to show us the base from which the actions and emotions sprang.
I miss Tim Hetherington for who he was and for the promise of what was still to come.
There’s so much going on this weekend and next week that I’m sure I’ll miss something. Before we head into PhotoPlus Expo week I wanted to give a rundown of what’s in store this weekend in New York. So get out and circulate!
Tonight: Thursday, October 20 Brian Ulrich's book party is at Aperture 547 W. 27th, 4th floor 7pm-9pm
Bryan Denton's show of his Libya photographs (quite timely) opens at 721 Broadway at Waverly Pl. (the Gulf + Western gallery) main floor, rear of lobby 6pm-8pm
Friday, October 21: Book launch and signing of STONE BY STONE, photographs of Taj Forer The Bubble Lounge 228 W. Broadway #1 6pm-8pm
Saturday, October 22: Visions:Tim Hetherington Bronx Documentary Center 614 Courtlandt Avenue Bronx, New York 6pm-10pm Misha de Ridder book launch and artist talk at Printed Matter 195 10th Ave. 6pm RSVP
I had planned on writing more about Photolucida (and I will at a later date), but the deaths of Tim Hetherington & Chris Hondros in Libya threw me for a loop. Words are inadequate to express my feelings. There is no perspective to be had in their deaths. It is final and it is brutal. If you didn’t know them, know their work.
And now the death of Osama Bin Laden takes our attention in another direction. Should the president release a death photo or not? For me it doesn’t matter. I am not a fan of death porn. As a photo editor for many years I saw a lot of terrible images and I do not need to see more.
It seems to me that those who call for the photos to be released are people who won’t believe things even when faced with the truth. How else can you explain the Birthers? When Obama finally released his birth certificate they claimed it had been Photoshopped. What’s the say that wouldn’t be the case with the death photo of Bin Laden?
I am not someone who simply believes everything the government tells me, far from it. But I am willing to accept this. I don’t need more. And to be honest, in this day and age I’m not convinced the photo won’t show up somewhere at some time in the future. The fact that the mission to get Bin Laden stayed completely unknown until announced is amazing. Nothing seems to stay hidden for long anymore.
Since the deaths of Tim & Chris I have been thinking a lot about those who go to conflict zones to make their careers. I will be writing about that soon, as I worry that the danger and lack of protection is worse than ever, and I question the wisdom of it. But that will wait for a later date as well. So many things have pushed me away from my initial intent on writing here at Stellazine that I am re-evaluating what I write about and how frequently I do it.
I met Linda Covello when I worked at Newsweek and she was shooting for cover stories about American kids. She is first and foremost a portrait photographer with a great connection to people and their environment. Linda is also a serious film buff, and after talking to her about Restrepo, the award-winning film from photographer Tim Hetherington and writer Sebastian Junger, I asked her to write about her feelings.
I saw 'Restrepo' last week and the thought kept running through my head " how the hell did Junger and Hetherington have the courage to film this insanity?"
As I watched the film unfold I was alternately jarred, shaken, shocked and frightened by the scenes of mortar fire, sniper shots and ordnance raining from above. The film opens with the Humvee Junger is filming in hitting an I.E.D. and the explosion shatters the usual complacency one feels as an audience member in a darkened theater. As all visibility through the windshield of the vehicle is obliterated by mud, rocks, and other debris and the suddenly very unnerved voices of the occupants fills the soundtrack, my heart rate sped up uncomfortably as I remembered "this is real."
The brave dudes on the screen are not a cast of characters in a James Cameron film, and that camera is held by a journalist, Sebastian Junger, whose life is at risk in the making of this incredible documentary about a platoon's tour of duty in Afghanistan's Korengal Valley.
As a photographer watching the film I could not help obsessing about the courage of the two filmmakers as well as reviewing my own terrible fear at the idea of finding myself in such a situation. NFW would I want to be there.
I am always inspired by the work of the great war documentarians; the viscerality and temporality of life is so profound in the strongest examples of this discipline. Yet I myself am not moved to pack my Canons and board an airlift for such a desolate and terrifying place as the treacherous mountains and valleys of Afghanistan.
What the two have accomplished with this remarkable piece of film making is to demonstrate unequivocally the terror and surreality of war for the young men and women who enlist to serve our country, as well as the courage, loyalty, commitment and deep love that develops between brothers at arms.
Directors like Coppola, Kubrick or Stone present the facts of war filtered through the perspective of a cinematic auteur, and you can deduce through each line of dialog and staged scene what might be the ideas, beliefs, and opinions of the director or screenwriter. The dialog of 'Restrepo' is not scripted.
The scenes before us are not created by an Academy award-winning production designer. Those buff and tattooed young men will not be posing in a sexy group shot for the next Vanity Fair Young Hollywood cover. And aside from finding cover the next time shots fill the air and shatter the branches of the trees overhead, whatever Junger and Hetherington are thinking about all this is nowhere present in this documentary. You barely ever hear them and do not see them at all. This film belongs to Battle Company of the 173rd Airborne.
These guys are portrayed as exactly what they are: macho, video game playing, at times lewd and sensitive, just out of their teens boys being boys. They sit around their outpost playing guitar, looking at surf magazines and doing their best to maintain a semblance of security for themselves between constant and unpredictable blasts from RPGs and sniper fire from the enemy, who are expertly hidden in the treacherous terrain surrounding their lone outpost. This stubborn encampment is the hard won piece of real estate that platoon has defiantly staked out for itself on the cliffs of the Korengal Valley. In the words of Captain Dan Kearney, it is like a big middle finger aimed at the enemy.
Prior to them climbing out of that valley they were like fish in a barrel for the insurgents hiding in the crevices and cliffs of the mountains surrounding the Korengal. By battling their way up that mountain and building that outpost, named O.P. Restrepo for the medic Juan 'Doc' Restrepo who is killed at the beginning of the film, they give themselves an advantage over the enemy that not only instills fear in the insurgents, but creates a stronger confidence in the platoon.
The film is a blend of the humorous and the ridiculous, the satirical and the tragic. In one scene a young soldier, apparently just back from leave, is attempting to position a massive gun in a window overhanging a perilous cliff. As he carefully climbs on the ledge to secure the gun, his radio beeps and he reaches to respond to it. The voice on the other end is looking for banter and engages the young soldier in an innocuous conversation about his recent tour home on leave. The soldier returns to his dangerous task with the gun as the voice on the other side of the radio persists on with questions about what his home is like and makes an allusion to the ranch the soldier lives on and hunts on back home being similar to the Korengal except "here we shoot people". This is only one example of the serendipitous and unscripted moments in 'Restrepo' that give this film its surreal and satirical dimension.
Another of these moments comes when Captain Dan Kearney holds one of his weekly pow wows with the village elders to discuss the progress of a road that is being built to connect the people of the province to the outside world, which is the ostensible point of the military presence in the Korengal. The elders, with their brightly hennaed beards, kohl rimmed eyes and talon-like hands heavy with rings and prayer beads, look almost like cartoon characters from Disney's animation archive. As they sit on the dirt floor of the hut while a translator recites Kearney's instructions and requests regarding the continued cooperation in the building of this road, the camera pans the faces of these men. They seem bored, out of it or high on some mountain herb, but the last thing they appear is interested in Uncle Sam's road project or his young and earnest representative's promises of great amounts of money and economic security the road will provide.
Later in the film three of these elders approach the O.P. in the hopes of receiving some of those promised dollars as restitution for a cow that has been slaughtered by the platoon. The soldier in charge of this exchange is informed by the brass at base camp that will be a no can do. The disgusted and defeated looks in the eyes of these ancient Afghans speaks volumes as to what their true estimation is of Uncle Sam and his representative's presence in their country.
After an aerial attack by an Apache helicopter on a village housing insurgents, the soldiers take a tour through the rubble of a house where civilian men and children have just been killed. Captain Kearney discusses his opinions about this unfortunate collateral damage in tones that are matter of fact and seemingly devoid of emotion. But he is a pivotal and strong figure in this drama. When the camera focuses on his face in extreme close up he discusses these events from a distance after returning home from the Korengal and all the withheld compassion, humanity and feeling do battle under his brow and jaw.
A few of the platoon members talk about their experiences in the Korengal Valley in this close up setting. The camera is tight on their faces as they recount the events they and their platoon mates survived. It is so close, in fact, that a nerve twitching uncontrollably in the eye of Aron Hijar gives away the intensity of the emotion he is dealing with as he talks about the harrowing details of his time in the Korengal Valley.
This film should be required viewing by every American. This sentiment is expressed by many who have commented on the Internet after viewing 'Restrepo'.
I had a vision of it being broadcast on every TV set in America with rapt Americans watching and listening just as they must have when Orson Welles broadcast 'The War of the Worlds' in 1938. The scene where a soldier bawls his eyes out and drops to his knees before a fallen comrade is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever witnessed in a darkened theater.
The great war photojournalist Robert Capa said "If your pictures aren't good enough you're not close enough". Sebastian Junger and Tim Hetherington are close enough.
Photographer Tim Hetherington, and journalist Sebastian Junger's award-winningt documentary, RESTREPO is making it's theatrical debut Friday, June 25 at the Angelika Theater.
RESTREPO follows the men of Battle Company, 2nd of the 503rd Infantry Regiment, 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team during their deployment in Afghanistan's Korengal Valley. The movie focuses on a remote 15-man outpost, “Restrepo,” named after a platoon medic who was killed in action. It was considered one of the most dangerous postings in the U.S. military.
This is an entirely experiential film: the cameras never leave the valley; there are no interviews with generals or diplomats. The only goal is to make viewers feel as if they have just been through a 94-minute deployment. This is war, full stop. The conclusions are up to you.
If you didn't make it to FPS Fest in Williamsburg Tuesday night, you missed a great bunch of people and a terrific show of photographers' films.
The evening began with Shinichi Maruyama showing a short work reel full of dripping, dropping, and splashing liquid that was hypnotic, yet calming. It made me think about how difficult it is to shoot a perfect rush of liquid.
Alexx Henry's "Living Art," was a behind-the-scenes look at a shoot of Ironman Chris Lieto for Outside Magazine. What I liked best was the discussion of the future ways in which printed media will incorporate moving image. It was totally fascinating to me and I'm still thinking about that.
Noah Webb showed "A Thousand Bees," assembled from 4,500 still images. It was completely different from all the other work, inventive and full of vibrancy. It was like a collage come to life. Andrew Hetherington brought a great dose of humor with his short "Meet The Hetheringtons,"a verbal/visual back-and-forth between Andrew and Tim Hetherington (no relation). It just goes to show that an idea is the most important element you can bring to a project. It's not always about crews and equipment. Kudos to him for that.
"Sleeping Soldiers," Tim Hetherington's multi-media piece followed, incorporating a triptych to juxtapose sleeping soldiers with the battlefield, in this case Afghanistan, where Tim was embedded with a U.S. platoon. At times it was as if we could see the dreams of the soldiers, as landscape blew across their sleeping bodies, until we were shocked awake by a frantic, stunned soldiers' pain. It was beautiful, inventive and powerful.
I introduced the trailer of Louie Psihoyos' "The Cove" and will say again: See this documentary! You can read my two part interview with Louie Psihoyoshere.
There was more humor from Bob Scott and his camera review. Clever, funny and a great use of short film with numerous possibilities.
It was distressing to me that two of the women presenting films, KT Auleta and Candace Meyer were the only ones who interjected sex into their work. I am disappointed that all they offered up was that Madonna-influenced "if I treat myself as a sex object then I'm the one with the power" bullshit. Where are the strong, interesting, accomplished women? Where is the content with real value, instead of portraits of girl-women in baby clothes?
All in all, congratulations to Dripbook, Resource Magazine and all the others who made this possible and presented something that speaks to the future, and more creative possibilities for photographers. Maybe it's Brooklyn, but I felt like this was the opening of a dialogue that will continue for those creative people who are moving forward with the desire to make themselves heard.
I am a Pulitzer Prize-winning photo editor who works as a consultant to photographers, helping them to strengthen their creative eye, put together the strongest portfolios and websites that reflect their work, and set a course to reach their professional goals.
I am available for one-on-one consultations nationally and internationally, curate photography exhibitions and organize lectures and seminars about the world of photography.
For many years I worked with such top publications as The New York Times, Newsweek, Sports Illustrated and People magazine, and won numerous awards as a photo editor.
