These men could have been cousins, friends of the village, or my father’s colleagues. As a child, they were an integral part of my family environment. My parents regularly welcomed them. It was an invaluable support for their compatriots: the “zoufris” (workers) who, unlike them, suffered the full force of the loneliness of exile. I remember that their bodies and the expression of their faces expressed all the austerity of a daily life, chained to the rhythm of a factory or a construction site. They were transformed in contact with our home, which was noisy with children. Relaxed, with a...
This article is reserved for subscribed members only. If you are already a member, you can log in here below.
Subscribe for full access to The Eye of Photography archives!
That’s thousands of images and articles, documenting the history of the medium of photography and its evolution during the last decade, through a unique daily journal. Explore how photography, as an art and as a social phenomenon, continue to define our experience of the world. Two offers are available.
Subscribe either monthly for $5 or annually for $50 (2 months offered).