Che Photographer

Within a decade of the shutter’s snap, ‘Guerrillero Heroíco’, Alberto Korda’s iconic 1960 photograph of 31-year-old Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, had become an incendiary symbol for would-be revolutionaries everywhere. Versions of Korda’s image – stoic, strong, visionary – gazed over riots in Milan in 1967, and in Paris the following year. Fellow photographer Giorgio Mondolfo, who took part in the Milan protests that were sparked by news of Che’s CIA-sponsored execution, recalled: ‘It was the picture that had drawn us – many for the first time – to gather in the streets, crying, “Che lives!”’

In the decades since, the image – and the trichromatic, cropped, poster-ised version later created by Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick – has spread to posters, bags and T-shirts the world over. In doing so, it has been bled of almost all political meaning, turning Guevara’s face into a generic symbol of rebellious cool; most of those who proudly wear their Che T-shirts probably have very little knowledge about the actual man behind the image.

But the travelling exhibition Che Photographer, currently at the Three Shadows Photography Art Centre, aims to reverse the ‘damage’ done by this single image with a whole slew of other photos, taken by the Argentinean-born medical doctor-turned-guerrilla fighter himself. The exhibition’s 230-plus works date from 1950 to 1966 and were taken all over the world, particularly Latin America – although, notably, no images of the revolutionary’s visit to China or his meeting with Chairman Mao have been included. This despite the fact that Che’s speeches and modes of thought have been more closely likened to Maoist Communism than the Soviet politicians his Cuban government were allied with in the ’60s.

‘We want it to be about the art, not the politics,’ explains Camilo Guevara, his son, who has travelled to Beijing to help with the show. But in many ways Che’s political and artistic role are difficult to separate entirely. Camilo talks of Che’s time as a photojournalist, documenting the Second Pan American Games in 1955, but this was the same year that Che first met Fidel Castro. And while many photos from this era include stunningly composed stills of athletes in action, Fidel and Che’s other political comrades also appear in the exhibition. But, says the show’s curator, Jillian Schultz, they appear merely as subjects, nothing else: ‘We all know of Che as this historical figure, but this exhibition is very tangentially related to that role, and reveals him as an artist, a photo aficionado.’

As those who’ve read his Motorcycle Diaries will tell you, Che became committed to the cause of a socialist revolution after travelling the length of South America, during which time he made ample notes on the poverty and repression he saw around him. For many of his supporters and family, it was his connection to people that informed his vision as a politician, fighter, writer and photographer. ‘The exhibition is about how he saw people,’ says Camilo. ‘He saw something in people – he was fascinated by them – and you can see this in his portraits.’

One of five Guevara children (there may be six – accounts differ as to whether Che also fathered another child out of wedlock), Camilo has travelled with the exhibition through Latin America and Europe. For he and his siblings, it is important to counter the commercialised image of their father with one that is more respectful and understanding of Che and his historical place. But there are also brief glimpses of the Guevara family unit, too. One shot has the young Camilo, a toddler, sitting amongst his family. ‘But,’ says Camilo, ‘we did not want to include too many of these images. ’

‘For me, the photographs have a very personal significance,’ he continues, his blonde, wispy ponytail and heftier figure at first sight bearing little resemblance to his father’s slimmer frame.

‘I couldn’t be with him as much as I wanted, being young when he died, and he was away a lot...but my mother, she has told us many stories about him, and she remembers that he wanted to leave these photos as a record for his family.

‘He didn’t prioritise his photography, of course. But he was an artist, a writer and a thinker. He should be remembered as such, too.’ While Camilo speaks of the photographs as intimate mementos and artistic works that should be shared with the world, he also refers to his father throughout the interview as ‘El Che’, as opposed to the more familiar ‘Papi’ his family usually use. ‘In public, I want to retain a certain distance, and a certain respect for the man.’

The photographs also include plenty of self-portraits, taken with a timer. One colour image from the late 1950s – most are black and white – shows him as a dark shadow in his iconic black beret, the edges blurred as he raises a cigar to his mouth, an electric fan whizzing behind him. The soft yellow light of curtained windows, also reflected in a mirror, give the scene a serene atmosphere. ‘His work became more abstract, with an eye for composition,’ opines Schultz of this period.

Artist, politician, journalist, activist, father: though it may not be comprehensive, the 16 years of photography featured in Che Photographer reveal a lot more going on behind that iconic face than poster-buying students could possibly expect. Whether the hundreds of photos in this travelling exhibition can possibly outweigh the single shot Korda took, however, remains to be seen. Clare Pennington

Photos from The Che Guevara Studies Institute 
Originally posted in Time Out Beijing