By Elin Spring and Suzanne Révy
As the saying goes, “war is hell.” This Veteran’s Day, we honor the men and women who went through that hell. It is striking how stories that emerge from time spent in combat are remarkably similar, despite differences in the region of conflict or the era in which they are fought. A convincing argument can be made that conflict is endemic to human behavior, as wars have been waged as long as anyone can remember and there is even archeological evidence that wars were fought before recorded history. This seemingly endless repetition may explain why there is an enduring, pressing need to process and re-process the deep psychological and physical wounds borne by the individuals and cultures that survive them. Spanning American conflicts from WWII to the Iraq war, all galleries at the Griffin Museum of Photography in Winchester, MA are devoted to eight diverse and compelling exhibits by eight visual storytellers in Tours of Duty, on view through December 6th, 2020.
At first glance, Suzanne Opton’s life-sized, photo-realistic color portraits in Many Wars appears documentary. Far from it. Picturing veterans she encountered in group therapy at a VA clinic, Opton has deliberately photographed her subjects in muted, almost monotonal palettes, supplying each with a blanket that simultaneously serves as a unifying visual element and an invitation for us to focus on her real interest, expression and gesture. Opton’s fabric prop provided impetus for each subject to project an inner narrative: “he could be a boy with a cape, a warrior, a king, a homeless person or even a martyr.” Spanning five American conflicts, Opton’s warriors offer poignant allusions to how war profoundly impacts one’s very sense of self.
In the spirit of Arnold Newman’s “environmental portraits,” D. Clarke Evans utilizes meaningful objects to illuminate the character of each person in his series Before They are Gone: Portraits and Stories of World War II Veterans. Evans’ subjects – currently in their nineties or older – gaze directly into his lens with dignity and humility in formal, studio lit compositions. Little of their inner lives can be divined through the images alone and Evans fills in the gaps with accompanying interview highlights and a small photo from their active duty days. Evans’ well-crafted series personalizes and preserves stories from WWII in a salute to the fast disappearing “greatest generation” of Americans.
World War II was the first big war to be photographed extensively. Press and military photographers covered the war employing the latest photographic technology: faster films and smaller cameras. Certain images were transmitted via radio waves for swift publication in the world’s newspapers. In Wirephoto, photographer David Pace and collector Stephen Wirtz appropriate anonymously authored World War II photographic prints that they have scanned and enlarged, revealing the marks of retouching, the flaws in emulsions and the artifacts of transmission. The images are cinematic and thrilling, raising questions around truth, authenticity and artifice in war photography. At that time, our decisive defeat of fascism, which was an important moment in history, bred a generation of visual mythology extolling the heroic GI’s, yet the grainy film of the time rarely revealed the horrors of war. How many young men who signed on to the Korean or early years of the Vietnam War were inspired by the heroics portrayed in propaganda from World War II?
Like Pace & Wirtz, Binh Danh appropriates imagery, but from the Vietnam War. Printing on grass or leaves, Danh emphasizes how death and violence transform landscapes and the elements of nature. In One Week’s Dead he prints faces of American soldiers that were published in Life magazine’s weekly list of the dead onto grasses. These enigmatic faces peer through the turf; the traces of their existence remain in the ground after their lives were cut short in a war that became deeply unpopular. Flanking the portraits are Danh’s prints of military camouflage patterns on leaves. He uses a chlorophyll process and rephotographs them on a deep black background in his series Military Foliage. The simple graphic forms suggest the oak cluster leaves that have been a symbol of military commendations since ancient Rome while reminding us of hidden enemies and the destructive forces war wreaks on the human body and our fragile earth.
The allure of war remains powerful through movies and video games. In War Games, William Betcher collects twentieth century toy soldiers that he presents in macro photographs and wet-plate collodion tintypes. The macro images are large color dye sublimated prints on aluminum which bring a luminosity to the detailed facial expressions of these small figures. The worn down paint and eroded, softened edges of each toy are beautifully lit, yet their damaged faces reference the wounded flesh soldiers suffered after exposure to deadly chemical agents. They are a somber reminder of the trenches and mustard gas of World War I and the use of Agent Orange in Vietnam. His wet-plate collodion tintypes are constructed tableaux which bring the Civil War to mind. These intimate cinematic compositions of violent battleground play housed in lush velvet cases attempt to constrain war into a hand-held object.
Todd Bradley uses collage, still-life and diorama to craft photographs that imagine his late grandfather’s WWII military stories in the series War Stories I Never Heard. With only a box of wartime photos and memorabilia to guide his extensive background research, Bradley pieces together a history that helps bind him to a grandfather he barely knew. Integrating selective focus, snapshots and letters, miniature toy soldiers act out historically based scenes, creating a nuanced, colorful and intimate history. A selection of collaged photographs testify to Bradley’s implicit search for himself. Particularly imaginative is his use of cut-out photos of soldiers printed with the Y chromosome DNA code he shares with his male lineage.
Allison Stewart brings an analytical eye to her typological survey in Bug Out Bags. These backpacks or duffel bags are the most rudimentary gear for disaster preparedness. Stewart encountered a fascinating cross-section of Americans encouraged in disaster readiness by a growing industry of vendors who cater to the fear and anxiety of 21st century. Some even assembled bug out bags for their pets (above). By emptying and placing the contents of each bag onto a white background, Stewart divulges the quirks of each bag owner. The arrangements of supplies expose their plans for survival and protection of property off the grid but what they don’t pack also has implications. Stewart’s “portraits” impart an intense focus on individuality and grit and suggest a frighteningly skewed perspective on the state of society.
For information about these exhibits and the Griffin Museum’s extensive accompanying programming, go to: https://griffinmuseum.org/show/tours-of-duty/