Sony Virtual Gallery

The Portraits of Van-Leo

Van-Leo: Master Cairo Portrait Photographer

by Barry Iverson

Catalogue essay from the exhibition "Van-Leo: A Moveable Feast," Oct. 14 to Nov. 5, 1998

Enter the studio of Van-Leo and you enter another era. The hectic pace of downtown Cairo vanishes, the quiet invites one to relax...then the eyes start roaming on the walls, filled with faces known and unknown. Master portraits and lesser so. Taha Hussein, Ragaa, Omar Sherif, Dalida, Rushdy Abaza, Sherihan. They all came to Van-Leo. The rich and famous - even the down and out.

"Faces...most of those entering the studio are not interesting faces....I can tell you that 90% their faces are not interesting...but when I see a beautiful face, I know it immediately....so, when a photographer sees so many faces...soon enough the photographer realizes quickly when you have an interesting face...to be satisfied...I always liked to photograph theatrical people more...but ordinary employees...they sit there like statues...so I always prefer shooting film stars, because they know what to do...by always being in contact with people, you get to know the psychology of the customers. I took pictures of people from all around the world: Brits, US, Greeks, South Africans, Egyptians, Armenians...you become a mind reader...you have to always be a gentleman with your customers...but don't let them take advantage of you...and be careful of the 'awantagi', reminisces Van-Leo, ' the face is given by God' 'if it is a beautiful girl or man, the photographer is only creating something beautiful. if you have a beautiful person come into your studio, you must profit - they are in your hand. you must profit. not like bringing someone from the parks. you must profit. like one time, the beggar he took from the 26th of July, in front of the coffee shop, he was selling forks and spoons of wood, selling for 1 piasters each. so he said 'taala maaya' while Leon was sitting in the coffee shop.. naamal shwyiat sowar...he gave him 1 pound. it is because he liked his face...it is rare to get someone from the park because you cannot. just ask people to come with you to the studio."

According to Van-Leo, everything depends on the quality of the customer. "Some will say they want no shades on the face; some want their face very clear and completely retouched, and always very handsome. Of course take all the wrinkles away." But that is not usually how Van-Leo viewed them. The ultimate compliment to him was when a customer would come in to the studio, and ask for a portrait without restrictions - as Van-Leo saw fit. Taha Hussein for example: he came with his secretary and wife: he was holding his cane (Taha Hussein was blind). Van-Leo described how he lit Taha Hussein. "The inspiration was from my heart: - I saw the dark eyeglasses, and I already understood that he was a famous personality. I started to play to with the lights, and it came out like this one." His secretary would come every year to order a dozen postcard size portraits, which they would give to newspapers writing articles about Taha Hussein. Then Van-Leo knew: it was in fact the best portrait ever taken of Taha Hussein. Indeed, it is a masterpiece, and to Egyptians, that picture with the heavy shades of black and moody tones, represents everything they know about Taha Hussein.

Van-Leo (real name Leon Alexander Boyadjian) - born in the village of Jihan, Turkey in 20 Nov 1921, came to Egypt as a child with his family in 1924. A true son of the Armenian disapora. Despite the upheaval and convulstions of his fellow countrymen and in Egypt, Van-Leo's uninterrupted 51 years as an uncompromising studio photographer, all in one place allowed him to develop fully his artistic expression to its fullest form. Never having married, Van-Leo's solitary life (not without girlfriends however) allowed him introspection and total devotion to portraiture. And devotion it was: his true idol was Youssef Karsh, the master portraitist famous for his passionate photographs of the famous and powerful. However, even Van-Leo deemed Karsh conservative in approach. "Karsh was always monotonous: all the portraits are three-quarter lengths, usually rich American and English subjects. He was not creative, but within those limits, very strong". Locally, his greatest influence was the portrait photographer Alban.

The formative molding of his character can be found in his strict upbringing and schooling at Cairo's College de la Salle (1930-31) and more importantly at the English Mission College in Faggala (1932-39). It was here where British teachers instilled discipline, honesty and ethics, at such an early and receptive age. It was his father Alexander, an employee of the huge Eastern Tobacco Company in Giza, who wanted only the best education for his two sons and daughter, and with a two-fold agenda: to send the elder Angelo to French speaking schools and the younger Leon to English speaking schools, banking on two sons speaking two languages would be of greater benefit to the family down the road than just one tongue.

Van-Leo started out as an apprentice, without pay, to a commercial studio photographer named Venus (real name Artinian), located on Kasr el-Nil street. Artinian was a very classical photographer - always used 3/4 body length poses, and never attempted to use "Hollywood" type lighting. Heavy shade was not his style. Artinian was fond of Van-Leo, and saw in him a very keen and clever young man. It was perhaps for this very reason that he never let Van-Leo into the studio when shooting portraits. Out of concern for learning too many professional secrets, or not wanting to give the budding young mind food for thought, he relegated his apprentice to routine jobs in the darkroom and mounting rooms. Ironically it was the denial of opportunity and expression that would lead Van-Leo looking elsewhere. And that inclination was sparked by one such man named Paul Hands. Hands was a British Officer based in Cairo during WWII. He came to Venus studio for a portrait in 1940, and noticed Van-Leo. In an indirect and discreet way, he encouraged Van-Leo to set up his own studio, and like many other aspiring young photographers, to seek out his living in the heyday of Cairene society, rocked by the throes of WWII - part of that great momentum that carried Cairo along with it. Thus, with the promise of much work from Hands and his British officer colleagues and friends, he started out with his older brother Angelo, commencing their studio business in one of the rooms of their parents apartment at 18 Ave Fouad (present day 26th July) in 1941. Hands was his first client. His father bought them a large 10x10inch format studio camera and necessary lighting equipment from Nassibian in Cairo. A large part of their clientele were the transitory WW II soldiers, officers and along with them, the families and entertainers. It was the latter which so enraptured the brothers, and they befriended them. Like Jean Mackay, a South African dancer, and Valerie Van Dool, also a South African entertainer for the South African troops. They made good friends with them and together they would go out to the Arizona Nightclub on Pyramids road for evening entertainment. In those days, meal and full drinks for four cost 10 Egyptian pounds. Today say 500-1000 pounds. Those were the good old days of Le Caire Vivant.

By 1947, the brotherly partnership soured, and Van-Leo opted to establish his own photographic reputation, and purchased his present day studio at 7 Ave Fouad, from the portrait studio then known as "Metro". At that time, when one bought another photographers studio, one would use the studio's name until such a time as your own name became greater than the previous owner. Van-Leo used the name "Metro" for some years before finally changing the name to Van-Leo. The location couldn't have been better - this was the bustling commercial and artistic district of Cairo. The Opera House was just around the corner, and in those early days, a large part of his clientele were performing artists, his favorite subjects. They knew how to act on the stage and in front of the camera.

Indeed his style was different. Van-Leo never really ran after the money. He never sold out to color like all the others: black & white was the real thing . He was working as half-professional and half-self-motivated artistry. It was the inspiration that was satisfying to him - no small wonder that his letterhead reads "Van-Leo - Art Photographer". The singularity of his work ethic permeated his entire life: self-sufficiency. It was out of necessity. You cannot simply go down to your local professional camera store and order 100 sheets of 30x40cm Agfa Portriga, matte surface; throw in a couple 750 watt lamps for the Giraffe spot lights; not to mention 50 sheets of Ilford FP4 5x7inch film. New York yes - Cairo no. His stock of lamps, photographic paper, film, business envelopes, cards, you name it - was organized for the continual supply/demand problem in Cairo. However, it was not only in materials that Van-Leo was independent: his day to day business was run entirely by himself. While temporary help was occasionally used, they did not stay long. No secretary to usher in the next clients or do the books; no servant to answer the door; no lab assistant to process the days take of portraits in the lab. And no photographers assistant in the studio to run here and there changing the position of a light, or raising the height of the huge wooden 10x10inch large format view camera that his father bought him in 1941 from Nassibian. Van-Leo was it - he coined the word workaholic ages ago. And by virtue of this strict work ethic, doubled his load, but more importantly, ensured quality, which after all is a very subjective value.

His library is filled with photography books, magazines, and postcards - showing the fanciful lighting techniques of the great legends in photography, and there is little doubt that these were studied very well. The persuasive Hollywood stills, the bauhaus movement, and Cairo's homegrown art scene spiced with a vibrant intellectual movement and offshoot surrealism movement - imparted such boldness and vigor in his portraits - little wonder he was sought out by the elite. In his lifetime, he took perhaps 500-1000 self-portraits, a number that would surely make Cindy Sherman cringe (famous American photographer, renowned for her self-portraits). One interesting group of self-portraits was published in the Egyptian magazine "Magala Ethnein" in 1945: showing Van-Leo dressed in 6 completely different costumes and hairstyles: as a beggar, as a woman, bald, and others. No profit seeking commercial photographer would be sidetracked by such endeavors - indeed there would be no money in such diversions. But to Van-Leo, it was food for thought, artistry for its own sake, and a subject available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year - perhaps his favorite subject of all. A bit surreal...yes.

Van-Leo was part of an artist/intellectual circle that met every Sunday at Angelo de Ritz house, a 300 year-old Ottoman house by the Citadel that had no electricity. Angelo was a well known painter and together they would discuss politics, art, surrealism. Opposite his building, was a building called maison des arts, where a Monsieur Milo lived, and who owned a large art collection. Van-Leo enjoyed going to the alley ways, so romantic, to such an old Ottoman house. "A taxi would take 12 piasters... those were the good old days... they will never come back."

On January 24th, 1998 Van-Leo conducted his last portrait session. It was my wife and I. When I went to pick up the proofs, we realized that he no longer could raise the mammouth large-format enlarger in the darkroom, as he had done for 57 years. I tried to devise a counterweight to ease the burden of raising and lowering - but it did not work. Van-Leo realized that was it. The disks in his back had become to aggravated, and finally, he could take it no more. He announced the closure of his studio. An era was over.

In April 1998, Van-Leo made a bold and courageous step - one that only great photographers can contemplate: the donation of an entire lifetime of work for safekeeping at the institution most capable of preserving, displaying and more importantly safekeeping the work for generations to come. That institution is uniquely the American University in Cairo. The fact that Van-Leo was a student there in 1940-41 played no small part in his decision. Small time photographers would have sold out print by print; lens by lens; chair by chair. Not Van-Leo. That his true photographic genius shows in his work is uncontested - it is matched only by his modesty and unselfish gift of a lifetime - humility in its ultimate form. He is arguably the finest portrait photographer ever to have come out of Cairo.

Van-Leo's gift to AUC has already born fruit: a major grant from Muattaz el-Alfi (AUC Trustee) was given and earmarked specifically to the Van-Leo collection. Efforts are well underway to catalogue, organize and archivally preserve the negatives and prints at the Rare Books Library, and Carol O'Neil has been named as Curator of the Van-Leo collection. A documentary film on his life is already underway by Fatma Bassiouny, graduate student at AUC. Last year, AUC published a monograph on his work, in cooperation with Zeitouna publishing house. Many of the negatives are damaged due to heat, inadequate hardening of the fixer many years ago, the unstable nature of nitrate negatives, and time. The flurry of shows and activity surrounding Van-Leo is a fitting tribute that this photographer is made of the right stuff, and after all these years one to be reckoned with and recognized.

Simultaneous with the launching of the two shows, the Van-Leo Foundation has been formed. Its function is to assist struggling photographers devoted to the art and practice of photography. Participation and donations to the Foundation may be addressed to:
The Van-Leo Foundation
The Sony Gallery for Photography
The American University in Cairo
113 Kasr el Aini St. Cairo, Egypt
Tel: 20-2-797-5424
Fax: 20-2-795-7565