Here is the third and final part of an email exchange between myself and former LIFE picture editor John G. Morris, who assigned photojournalist Robert Capa to cover the D-Day invasion on Omaha Beach, delegated the development of the films he sent back and the making of prints therefrom, and shipped the results to New […]
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In “Get the Picture” (1998) and in other accounts before and since, Morris asserts that “A scrawled note (from Capa) said that the action was all in the 35-millimeter, that things had been very rough, that he had come back to England unintentionally with wounded being evacuated, and that he was on his way back to Normandy.” Never reproduced, not even in Morris’s 2004 book D-Day: Robert Capa, which includes much other documentation, this note may be mythical. […] The first of Capa’s Omaha Beach exposures shows the troops disembarking from the LCI on which Capa arrived. The next to last shows Pfc. Huston Riley, who recalls that immediately after helping to rescue him Capa ran for an outgoing LCI. In his memoir “Slightly Out of Focus,” Capa himself states that after he reached that LCI he made no more images of the battle. Thus the “magnificent eleven” constitute not just what Morris managed to “save” but the entirety of Capa’s take from Omaha Beach. […] These represent the types of pointed questions that you’d get asked by a serious interviewer who’d done his research — not someone kissing up to you, like Bob Pledge at the ICP, and not someone invested in feeding the Capa legend, like his biographer or the curator of his archive. […] |
 SPJ Research Award 2014 |
What Happened in Vegas (1)
People here in the United States pursue in growing numbers what I call the photo-erotic, by which I mean the specific act of putting erotic behaviors on the visual record, playing them out in front of a lensed instrument loaded with light-sensitive materials or digital sensors, registering on film or in pixels our erotic inclinations — not just for our private delectation but also for wide distribution. […]