After serving in Vietnam as a U.S. Marine, photographer Craig Barber returns twenty-eight years later to a country first seen in combat. Haunted by witnessed atrocities, Barber carries his memories of war back to Vietnam to quiet his ghosts. Armed only with a handmade pinhole camera, he captures images of bomb craters turned into fish-rearing ponds, parts from airstrip runways used as window grates, and shell casings functioning as fence posts. In a country where half the population is under twenty and has no memory of war, Barber's ethereal platinum prints give hope that healing and change is on the horizon. A sensitive essay by Alison Nordstrom, Curator of Photographs at Eastman House, offers insight into photography's role in unlayering the past. (www.geh.org). - Nur Kurztitelaufnahme 03.2007.