thedrifter
01-07-07, 09:10 AM
Exhibit: Marine shoots, hits his mark
Photography exhibit reveals Iraq as it's seen by the troops.
By ANDREW GOOD
The Orange County Register
Every time you're on patrol in Iraq, says Cpl. Reynaldo Leal, you take your life in your hands.
But on his last tour, spanning from January to August 2006, he found himself working double duty. He'd return from patrol and go right back out again – this time armed with a Canon digital SLR camera.
The risk was worth it for the shots he captured: children playing soccer in the street; Iraqis sharing chai tea with Americans; the personalities of his fellow Marines.
Forty of the photos he shot on his last tour of Iraq are on exhibit at San Clemente's Sunset Gallery.
Leal, an avid photographer since his teens, says his images capture the quiet moments that the nightly news, with its deadlines and focus on combat, often miss. There are conversations with Iraqis, and horsing around with kids.
Not that the tension lets up.
"You're always on guard," Leal said. He compares his patrols to the fight in Fallujah two years ago, where he lost nine men in his company. Understandably, he rarely had permission to shoot on that tour.
On patrol, frantic firefights are replaced by more civil policing, but nothing is safe. There are improvised explosive devices hidden on the street, and sudden attacks in the midst of women and children.
"That pop can on the side of the road could potentially kill you," Leal explained. "The danger's always there, it's just a different kind of danger."
In Sunset Gallery, with soft music chiming through speakers and a bubbling fountain nearby, you can't help but feel somewhat divorced from the urgency Leal talks about.
But gallery owner Mark Bathen puts things back in perspective: He spent hours talking with Leal about the stories behind each photo. One leaves him at a loss for words: an image of Marines sitting atop an Iraqi roof, the family living below passing them bread through a window.
A short while after the photo was taken, Bathen says, Leal returned to the building. It was rubble. He doesn't know what happened to the family.
But there's beauty to enjoy in these photos as well. Human expression glows out of Leal's portraits, both of Iraqi children and Marines on patrol. It's the aspect of war photography that appeals to him most – either the faces of shell-shocked soldiers, or the humor and relief when a battle is over.
"You see humanity through that crack, the gray of war," he explains. "That's the thing about war photography: Even the ugliest little things can crack and the little good and decency come through. It's not just explosions and fire; the beauty and ugliness are all there."
All his photos are in black and white, which he believes has the power to turn the coarsest of images into something beautiful. People are used to seeing color images of the Iraq war; in monochrome, they stand out, he says, and pull people in to study them. In a way, it coaxes them into confronting those images.
It also reminds him of the Time and Life magazines he read as a kid, poring over shots of World War II and Vietnam. They were his introduction to photography, and his inspiration.
He started shooting his patrols to record his experience in Iraq. He hoped he'd have something to eventually show his grandchildren.
But for now, he has something to share with everyone, and hopes it'll bring a glimmer of understanding between the public and the troops living a publicly divisive war.
"If I can bring everyone together on one thing, it's that those guys who signed up – most of us signed up right after 9/11. … We're human beings. We're not animals, we're not little green men, we're not the guys you see on the news running around.
"We're normal. We have our down time, we feel like everybody else. It's mostly, 'Look, this is what it's like, it's not the 10 seconds you see on the news every day.' There's a lot more to it."
Ellie
Photography exhibit reveals Iraq as it's seen by the troops.
By ANDREW GOOD
The Orange County Register
Every time you're on patrol in Iraq, says Cpl. Reynaldo Leal, you take your life in your hands.
But on his last tour, spanning from January to August 2006, he found himself working double duty. He'd return from patrol and go right back out again – this time armed with a Canon digital SLR camera.
The risk was worth it for the shots he captured: children playing soccer in the street; Iraqis sharing chai tea with Americans; the personalities of his fellow Marines.
Forty of the photos he shot on his last tour of Iraq are on exhibit at San Clemente's Sunset Gallery.
Leal, an avid photographer since his teens, says his images capture the quiet moments that the nightly news, with its deadlines and focus on combat, often miss. There are conversations with Iraqis, and horsing around with kids.
Not that the tension lets up.
"You're always on guard," Leal said. He compares his patrols to the fight in Fallujah two years ago, where he lost nine men in his company. Understandably, he rarely had permission to shoot on that tour.
On patrol, frantic firefights are replaced by more civil policing, but nothing is safe. There are improvised explosive devices hidden on the street, and sudden attacks in the midst of women and children.
"That pop can on the side of the road could potentially kill you," Leal explained. "The danger's always there, it's just a different kind of danger."
In Sunset Gallery, with soft music chiming through speakers and a bubbling fountain nearby, you can't help but feel somewhat divorced from the urgency Leal talks about.
But gallery owner Mark Bathen puts things back in perspective: He spent hours talking with Leal about the stories behind each photo. One leaves him at a loss for words: an image of Marines sitting atop an Iraqi roof, the family living below passing them bread through a window.
A short while after the photo was taken, Bathen says, Leal returned to the building. It was rubble. He doesn't know what happened to the family.
But there's beauty to enjoy in these photos as well. Human expression glows out of Leal's portraits, both of Iraqi children and Marines on patrol. It's the aspect of war photography that appeals to him most – either the faces of shell-shocked soldiers, or the humor and relief when a battle is over.
"You see humanity through that crack, the gray of war," he explains. "That's the thing about war photography: Even the ugliest little things can crack and the little good and decency come through. It's not just explosions and fire; the beauty and ugliness are all there."
All his photos are in black and white, which he believes has the power to turn the coarsest of images into something beautiful. People are used to seeing color images of the Iraq war; in monochrome, they stand out, he says, and pull people in to study them. In a way, it coaxes them into confronting those images.
It also reminds him of the Time and Life magazines he read as a kid, poring over shots of World War II and Vietnam. They were his introduction to photography, and his inspiration.
He started shooting his patrols to record his experience in Iraq. He hoped he'd have something to eventually show his grandchildren.
But for now, he has something to share with everyone, and hopes it'll bring a glimmer of understanding between the public and the troops living a publicly divisive war.
"If I can bring everyone together on one thing, it's that those guys who signed up – most of us signed up right after 9/11. … We're human beings. We're not animals, we're not little green men, we're not the guys you see on the news running around.
"We're normal. We have our down time, we feel like everybody else. It's mostly, 'Look, this is what it's like, it's not the 10 seconds you see on the news every day.' There's a lot more to it."
Ellie