Ziff: It did that early on. In '68 it was already becoming an iconic image of protest and change outside the context of his life. Of course all the commercialization came later. The image was almost like the resurrection -- the image sort of left the body of the man and immediately became iconic in that way, but very specific to what was taking place in Europe. The critique of the Soviet Bloc, the right to vote in Ireland, the anti-Vietnam War protesters in the United States, the anti-military movement around the Olympics that was taking place in Mexico: It was about Che and yet it wasn't. Very early on, it wasn't.
In some contexts, who Che was is still relevant to the image's power, yet the image has moved beyond the person who took it and the person in it.
Lopez: What we try to explore in the film is that there is a mythology that grows from Che and it happens in all sorts of ways in different cultures, and that's one aspect of it. And there's also this development of the icon itself. And what's interesting to me is that there's this open source where no one really specifically controls it. And it keeps changing and remodifying. It becomes this open vessel that's constantly evolving without one person or group really dictating where it goes.
Let's talk about the things that contributed to this historic level of proliferation: the lack of copyright in Cuba at the time; Korda's decision to give it away to Italian publisher Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, who widely reproduced it on posters; the high-contrast version Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick designed "to breed like rabbits," to name just three. Can you trace the mechanics of the proliferation of the image?
Lopez: I think there were several factors that caused the image's explosion that sometimes we discuss as a perfect storm. It's almost like it could only happen with those sets of circumstances present. There is Che and his mythology and legacy, but also there's other factors. Like the lack of copyright at the time in Cuba, which helped it to be passed around and dispersed quite freely. Other things that we touch upon: the cult of celebrity that was developing at that time, with young heroes and people having posters of James Dean and Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. Another factor is the development of pop art and Andy Warhol taking images of historical figures or popular culture figures and creating art. There's also the era of protest: Prague spring and Paris and Mexico City and Berkeley. So there are all these factors that came together on this one image that helped it explode.
It's interesting now that Korda's estate is trying to protect the copyright and prevent unauthorized uses of the image -- and that Korda himself successfully sued Smirnoff to stop the company from using it in its vodka ads a few years back. The film, I thought, didn't really take a firm position on that. Was that a deliberate choice?
Ziff: From my point of view as someone who's worked with photography and photographers for 30 years, I have a very clear position, which is honoring the rights of the photographer, the rights of the photographer's family, copyright law. This is such a unique image in that so many people do believe it's public domain, and in the film we give them a voice to say that. And then at the end we come back and we give Diana [Díaz, Korda's daughter, who oversees his estate] her voice. I mean there is massive debate today in Cuba about who owns that image: Should that image be a free image for the Cuban people to use and represent the revolution or should it remain in copyright to the estate? It's a pretty cut-and-dried debate because we do have international laws and Cuba now acknowledges those laws. And Diana is absolutely within her rights to implement those laws as any holder of copyright would be.
You also include the voice of a Cuban-American, a young guy talking about his negative associations with Che -- his embrace of armed conflict, the violence. But you didn't dwell on that perspective too long. Was that also a deliberate choice?
Lopez: First and foremost we wanted to explore the phenomenon of a photograph and an icon. We wanted to explore why did this happen, how did this happen. At the same time we felt it would be irresponsible not to give some other perspectives. We had some understanding that there are opposing ideas and voices in all of this.
I'm kind of curious about all the man-on-the-street interviews with people wearing the Che T-shirts who have no idea who he is. I'm wondering about the process of finding those people. I'm guessing it wasn't very hard to do.
Ziff: We went to gathering spots. At Venice Beach, we waited about five minutes for a Che T-shirt to come along. Maybe we were very lucky, but they happened pretty quickly in London, in different places. What happens is once you become sensitized to the image, you hate it, because you start seeing it everywhere. You realize our world is saturated by Che T-shirt wearers. So it wasn't that difficult, but it was interesting the level of ignorance.
I would say it's culturally specific, too. Because if you were to walk through the streets of Belfast or Dublin or Mexico City and you ask people "Who's on your T-shirt?" they'd know. I think it's quite culturally specific to the United States and to education in the United States and what people are taught and not taught in the States. It's quite mind-boggling as a non-American.
On my way to New York for the festival, I sat next to a Tibetan monk on the plane and I was looking at some of the early reviews with the Che image on them. He leaned across and he said, "I see that man in so many countries, but not in my country, not in Tibet. Is he a musician?"
Do you think the image has lost or gained power in its explosion? Or both?
Ziff: I think both. It's changed. It metamorphoses. It travels. It takes on new meanings. It gets attached to different moments. In Mexico City, you don't really see that image without seeing the image of the Zapatistas, and it becomes an image about indigenous voices and the rights of the indigenous and independents. The schoolteachers strike in Oaxaca, it's the same thing. It becomes this strong image of a struggle and specific in some contexts and in others this much more generic image used in protests we wouldn't even associate with it, like green issues or whatever.
What are some of the strangest things you've seen the image on?
Ziff: A doormat. Wipe your feet on Che Guevara!
Lopez: I just saw a "Che-r" T-shirt: Cher's face with the beret.
Ziff: You see that a lot. People just put a black beret and a star on other people: Libera-Che, Che-ney. You can go on and on Googling them.
There's your next exhibition.
Ziff: Oh, please God, no.
Do you think the image will ever run its course? Is there an end?
Lopez: I don't think so. It seems to me that the image just has such staying power and resonance. I think certainly not in my lifetime. It won't go away.
About the writer
Amy Reiter is the deputy editor of Salon Arts & Entertainment.
Related Stories
"Brief Encounters With Che Guevara"
This superb debut story collection travels to Colombia, Sierra Leone and the U.S., examining the damage capitalism has wreaked on the world.
"My Colombian War"
A kidnapping target in her native Colombia, journalist Silvana Paternostro returned there to document life beyond the drug war.
Che and Diana: The Shocking Untold Story
In a book proposal for his autobiography, Cuba's maximum leader Fidel Castro outs his brother, calls Robert Kennedy a "complete fool" and compares Che Guevara to Princess Diana.
Story finder (3 ways to search Salon)
Salon Directory (browse by topic)
