The genius of Robert Capa (1913-54) lay in narrative. Almost single-handedly, he created Magnum’s tradition of photographic storytelling, and it is a testament to the reputation he forged for the photojournalist-as-narrative hero that Magnum continues to be associated with it. This is despite the majority of Magnum’s photographers later discreetly or emphatically distancing themselves from his storytelling approach.

Capa’s photography is all about being there, close. His art lay in risking where to be and when, in how he built and conducted the relationships that enabled him to be there, and in how he shaped and presented the narrative of events he witnessed. Without underestimating his talent for making photographs, it hardly mattered if they were ‘slightly out of focus’ if the story in question had the ingredients of myth – of heroism, courage and sacrifice. Capa’s wars may have been terrible, but in his hands they nevertheless retained a Homeric sense of romance. His power as a communicator depended too on his mythic status as narrator, or more specifically, on being considered the ‘greatest war photographer ever’. This was not the chance product of his actions, but the role in which he cast himself – borne in his professional decisions, from adopting a suitable movie-star name (né André Friedman) to making sure he was among the first to land on the D-Day beachhead. It also involved good judgement about when it was appropriate to exaggerate the facts, something he did not try to hide. Slightly Out of Focus, his gripping chronicle of World War II written with film rights in mind, states on the original dust jacket: ‘Writing the truth being obviously so difficult, I have in the interests of it allowed myself to go sometimes slightly beyond and slightly this side of it.’ He positively sought to be, and to be seen as, larger-than-life.

What underlay his narrative strategies and showmanship, beyond his particular points of view on the rights and wrongs of any particular conflict, was a belief in the ideals of independence – both individual freedom and creative independence. In this respect, he combined exceptional courage in fully playing the role of the photographer-as-hero with a deep understanding of the value and purpose of doing so. On his own account, it allowed him to escape the poverty and anti-semitism of central Europe, and the suffocating control of employers. It also drove the creation and development of Magnum as an independent community of photographers. He used his marketing genius for conceiving and promoting photo stories to serve the organisation, procuring work for photographers, balancing individuals’ artistic or personal goals with the marketable story product. In the process, he created a narrative myth for Magnum too that has helped propel it over more than half a century.