A US war plane explodes on Iwo Jima, with mount Suribachi in the background. Bruce Elkus, 1945. Copyright Marianne Ingleby

With Pass It On. Private Stories, Public Histories FOTODOK draws to a close its central theme of 2020: collective memory. The exhibition takes family archives as a starting point. We met one of the four artists involved, Marianne Ingleby, to talk about her work. 

Marianne, could you tell us a little about where you have grown up and what are your early visual memories?

Marianne Ingleby (MI): I was born in Cambridge, UK. When I was 3 years old, we moved to Utrecht in the Netherlands, where I grew up. My father is English and my mother is American and we spent all our holidays with my mother's parents in New York. New York left a huge impression on me as a child. The dancing lights on the ceiling from the police cars and ambulances as I lay in bed at night in their brownstone house in Brooklyn. They also had a weekend house in upstate New York with a forest, and I used to explore the forest and the nature trails there endlessly. The magical rocks at its entrance that looked like a giant snakehead with an open mouth, the valleys with flattened leaves from perhaps a sleeping herd of deer?

Tell us a bit about your educational background and how it influenced your journey?

MI: I first studied journalism in Utrecht, focusing on television. Afterward, I obtained a Master's degree in American Studies at the University of Utrecht. I worked as a journalist, first for Metro newspaper and then at the financial television network CNBC for a few years. I found the fast-paced world of finance very exciting and it gave me a good experience. When the financial crisis hit, many regional offices at CNBC were closed down. I had to reinvent myself a bit, as I knew it would be hard to combine being a mother of young children with being a reporter. So I took up my passion for photography and studied at the Fotoacademie in Amsterdam. Here there was more space for hybrid stories, which cross over into history, personal story, photography and journalism. At the end of my studies, I started my project Operation Detachment, which starts with my grandfather's war archive that I inherited from my mother after my grandfather Bruce Elkus passed away.

Your mother passed you an archive of your grandfather serving as a war photographer in Japan? Could you briefly describe what type of archive it is? And how did you approach it (analyze, selection, classification...)

MI: The archive consists of contact sheets, prints, negatives in black and white, rare color slides, secret military documents and a vast correspondence of almost 90 letters between my grandparents in wartime. In total there are almost 1,000 images, but with the double prints taken out, there are 496 images. I have had them professionally preserved and digitized at the Fotomuseum Rotterdam, to reduce mold damage. I have made categories of the content such as landscapes, atrocities, religious ceremonies, mainland, combat, and intimate encounters.

The archive consists of military documents such as Bruce Elkus' military ID card.

The archive contains a vast correspondence between Marianne's grandparents during wartime. While Bruce was in army training, he wrote many letters to his wife Honoré´who was an artist in New York. Picture Marianne Ingleby

The archive likely consists of the army rejects and pictures taken for my grandfather's personal use. Bruce was an official army photographer for the American army during the Second World War and he documented the second half of the battle of Iwo Jima, Japan and the occupation of the mainland. It is rare documentation that is not in the National Archives. Firstly, it shows a time period that historians have seen very little images of. While there are many images of the invasion of Iwo Jima with the Marines, the second half of the battle is much less known. The army had the grizzly task to clean up this tiny island in the Pacific of some 27,000 dead soldiers in order to prevent the outbreak of epidemics. They knew that so many corpses would pose a very serious health hazard. Also, they had to knock out the resistance of Japanese soldiers hiding in a massive underground cave system. The Americans used Nisei translators to try to get them to surrender, but if they did not, they used flamethrowers to literally burn them to death.

An aerial view of Mount Suribachi, where the iconic image was taken Raising of the Flag of Iwo Jima. Bruce Elkus, 1945. Copyright Marianne Ingleby

My grandfather had a clear task description that is included in the archive, but he went completely off script and followed his own sense of what was important, more like a journalist. He documented how the soldiers slept, ate, showered, celebrated victory and religion, but also how they fought fiercely and had to identify and bury the thousands of dead soldiers. My grandfather is also one of the few photographers who documented the interaction of Japanese prisoners of war with the Americans and he also took pictures of the dead Japanese soldiers on Iwo Jima. On the mainland of Japan during the occupation, it is most likely he used his personal camera and here also he took many pictures. Some are very touristic, but there is also much interaction with the Japanese civilians. For example, he took many pictures of American soldiers visiting Japanese brothels. Historians know this happened, but they have never seen such uncensored and explicit images of it.

Soldiers from the 147th army regiment explore the island for Japanese hiding in the caves. Bruce Elkus, 1945. Copyright Marianne Ingleby 

Could you please introduce us to your artistic and visual practice? How would you "define" yourself and why?

When I first started my project, I had more of the role of a traditional photographer. But after a while, I realised this would be far too static. I need to be a researcher, a storyteller, a granddaughter and a visual artist. I define my role as an artist in this project as follows: it is my task to reconstruct the archive as best I can, to find out what this incredibly raw time capsule is showing about the war that we did not know before, yet deepens our understanding of this complex and deeply devastating history. I aim to make the war palpable again to our current generation through this incredible visual material and the stories around it.

Soldiers from the 147th army regiment had the grizzly task of mopping up the island of around 27.000 dead soldiers when the battle was over, in order to prevent the health hazard of an epidemic. Bruce Elkus, 1945. Copyright Marianne Ingleby 

Even though Bruce had clear instructions of what he needed to photograph, often he directed his camera elsewhere. Here he is pictured with a fellow soldier, resting in a dug out next to camera equipment on Iwo Jima, 1945, maker unknown. Copyright Marianne Ingleby 

Copyright Marianne Ingleby 

But my work is not only about making the war palpable, I also want to raise questions as to how we remember it today. For example, in opening up this archive I run into certain personal and ethical problems. I have deliberately incorporated them into the exhibition. In the installation 'Dear Bruce', you see the box the archive came in and you see my hands sorting through the images. It is a monologue with my grandfather, and I write down my questions to him on a stack of cards and place them next to his images. For example, do I have the right to show all these uncensored images of dead soldiers, with recognisable faces? 'What weighs heavier, the historical relevance or the privacy of those portrayed' next to images of American soldiers visiting brothels in occupied Japan that I describe in words while I leave the image unturned, leaving them not visible. By being transparent about the problems in presenting this work, I aim to get people to think about these questions for themselves. I want to give the viewer a sense of responsibility instead of telling them what to think.

This archive led you to develop specific projects to investigate how we relate to war and to communicate them visually through different media? Such as in "Continuos" and "Operation Detachment"... How do you develop your projects...

MI: This project comes from very personal motivation. After I started to study Bruce's archive, I was shocked to see the atrocities he had witnessed. It was a process to realise these horrific images were not made by an anonymous photographer, but by my very own grandfather who was actually present at each and every scene. Although he had never spoken about these experiences to me, I could feel how they were part of him. I suddenly saw how they may have affected him and how he always remained a veteran in his mentality. I grew an understanding that this was such an impactful archive and the story must be retold through it. And more importantly, it is not just about my grandfather, but how he documented the war gives us a view we have never seen before and important historians tell me such a personal archive is very unique. After seeing my grandfather's archive I suddenly realized, the image that we have of this war is heavily censored. However, we don't realise it as we have never seen such a collection of uncensored images such as Bruce's.

Bruce Elkus sits outside an army tent, possibly a self portrait on rare color film, 1945, Iwo Jima. Copyright Marianne Ingleby 

I only knew Iwo Jima from the famous “Raising of the Flag” image. A heroic image like no other, yet it held no connection to me. Since my own grandfather, like many people who survive war, never told me of his experiences, I never knew my own family history. My generation is often detached from this history and it threatens to be known only through iconic images that have no personal connection to us.

I am curious about how you relate with other experts (historians for example)... I know for example you also worked on a Radio Documentary...

MI: For me it is essential to combine the research and findings of historians and other scholars of this archive. In the two-part radio documentary for the Dutch public radio VPRO, the popular history show OVT follows me in unraveling the historical significance of the archive. For this, I went to the National Archives in Maryland to find out what work of my grandfather was already there and compare it. I also took part in a reunion of the Fifth Marine Division, which was responsible for the invasion of Iwo Jima and I was able to interview 5 Iwo Jima veterans and take their portraits. Their stories are incredibly gripping and bring my grandfather's archive to life with such powerful stories.

As the story has so many layers, I wanted to make it a multimedia presentation. The archive is the base, but in the radio documentary I am followed in my personal journey as a grandchild. We are also planning to make a web documentary, where there will be a combination of images from the archive, my portraits of the veterans and the audio of their very powerful interviews. I am extremely fortunate to be able to work with the documentary production agency Prospektor with Eefje Blankevoort and Laura Stek from VPRO radio. On such a complex and large topic, it is essential that you have people helping you delve deeper into the story and create layers that are personal and universal at once. Thus far we have made the two-part radio documentary, which included the trip to the United States, but the research trip to Japan was postponed due to COVID. It is unclear when this will resume, but here I want to shed light on the Japanese side of the story. What does this archive mean for Japan and can I interview any surviving Japanese Iwo Jima veterans?

On rare color film for this time period, Elkus captured the explosion inside the caves of Iwo Jima, at night. Bruce Elkus, 1945. Copyright Marianne Ingleby

Finding women who worked as prostitutes during the war may certainly pose a challenge, but perhaps there is documentation in the form of letters or a diary that can illustrate their circumstances. Also, I want to do more research into the specific conditions of these women. During the war, the Japanese government set up a brothel system and asked certain women to volunteer to serve their country by becoming a prostitute for the American soldiers. This would protect 'regular' Japanese women from the American troops. A very sad aspect of the war that is less known, and I want to research exactly how this relates to the brothels depicted in my grandfather's pictures. So the project is still very much work in progress and still much work to be done. The exhibition at Fotodok shows the stage that the project is in now, as an ongoing process. 

Now about FOTODOK. Now about FOTODOK.  "PASS IT ON. PRIVATE STORIES, PUBLIC HISTORIES" along with other artists Inga Meijer (NL), Lebo hang Kane (ZA), and Pablo Lemma (ES/NL) and Daria Tuminas is the curator. All this happened during a severe pandemic. How did you approach this challenge? And has this situation affected the type of installation for your works? 

I am extremely grateful to Fotodok for giving me the opportunity to present my project despite the pandemic. I don't believe the exhibition itself has become so much different, but due to the restrictions, you have smaller groups attending and one on one meetings which are actually great. The feedback from the audience is wonderful and much more personal this way. Even though there is social distancing, I find there is still much space for connection.

Installation view, exhibition 'PASS IT ON. PRIVATE STORIES, PUBLIC HISTORIES, at  FOTODOK, Utrecht, 2020 © Studio Hans Wilschut

I believe there is also value in seeing World War Two during a pandemic, as people themselves can draw parallels and see differences. As our world has changed a lot in a short space of time, people will hopefully think of how it relates to times like the Second World War and place it in a historical perspective.

Covid-19 maybe forced us to create and experience art differently. Some people speak about the pandemic as if it were a war. There are certainly similarities but huge differences. How much revisiting history and wars can help us rethink the pandemic from a different perspective? This period showed us an even more uncertain future, yet, paradoxically, I have the impression that it leads us to really focus on the future as never before. To rethink time, relationship, and maybe also history. Many of us had friends or relatives that passed away. Many of them were elderly. So we lost memories, we lost histories, we lost human archives... How can we digest all this?

Covid is forcing us to slow down our fast-paced world and re-evaluate what is important to us. For myself, it is the closest experience that I have had to something as global and devastating as war. I am faced with having to sacrifice certain liberties for a greater good. It sometimes feels like a crisis, which it is, but during the war, there were so many elements that were unbearable; such as lack of food, danger of being bombed in your house, loved ones being sent to war and never coming home, no proper health care system or working government. I was saddened greatly to learn that certain war veterans that I interviewed for this project contracted the coronavirus and one of them, called Al Nelson, died from it. He fought in three wars: World War Two, Korea and Vietnam and it is such a tragedy he caught the virus. He survived three wars, and the virus took his life.

Installation view, exhibition 'PASS IT ON. PRIVATE STORIES, PUBLIC HISTORIES, at  FOTODOK, Utrecht, 2020 © Studio Hans Wilschut

Both the war and the Covid crisis show us that the future is always uncertain. We may think we have evolved and live in a modern world, but there is always a new unparalleled challenge around the corner that we did not anticipate. That is the nature of life. It cannot be static. And yet, I do believe there is much growth. And this growth in turn may even lead to our demise. 

Installation view, exhibition 'PASS IT ON. PRIVATE STORIES, PUBLIC HISTORIES, at  FOTODOK, Utrecht, 2020 © Studio Hans Wilschut

My heart aches for old people in these times. World War Two veterans for example, they have given so much to free us and now they live in isolation. Their mental health is struggling greatly from this. When they are gone, so much is lost in stories and memories. It is up to the next generation and the ones after to keep them alive so they are not lost. Without our history, we have no real understanding of who we are and what preceded us. The sacrifices, the situations, the life changing events are part of our DNA, just like this current crisis will be one day.

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LINKS

Marianne Ingleby