How does a young Frenchman, born during World War II in a good family, the son of a civil servant posted to Morocco, become a photographer?
His itinerary, off the beaten track, and his fascination for the image began when his parents sent Bruno Barbey to a Paris boarding school. “ I was a dunce and a thwarted left-hander,” he remembers now, sitting at his long kitchen table decorated with blue-and-white Moroccan ceramics, in a Parisian house where he also works.
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