Newly arrived in Paris, I met Pierre de Fenoÿl in 1970. I was sent to see him by someone I had shown my portfolio to. I was 26, Pierre was 25. I thought he was considerably older, with his well-cut suit, his tie and his big cigar. We hit it off immediately, and became fast friends. Pierre had one of the best eyes for photography that I had ever come across. He understood pictures, he felt them, he loved them. I have no idea where he got his passion and his talent; he didn’t come from a milieu that was particularly interested in photographs, or in art in general.
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).