“My father ran a neighborhood portrait studio. Him, I liked very much, but I didn’t like his work at all. It was honorable work, which he did with his heart, with his naivety, but it was not my taste at all. When I was 16, he gave me a camera. I took pictures as an amateur, but it didn’t go any further. I wanted to write music, not to be a performer. I would have preferred the piano, but my mother, who was very bossy, forced me to play the violin. She was a pianist, maybe she thought we were...
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