Mark Riboud. Moscow, policeman. 1967. The collection of the author, Paris
Mark Riboud. Bratislava, sight-lightening. 1994. The collection of the author, Paris
Mark Riboud. Paris. The house painter on the Eiffel Tower. 1953. The collection of the author, Paris
exhibition is over
You should have heard him, back from a trip, excited and worried, analyzing some of his fresh memories, weaving connections, trying to relate them to history, keen to understand. Not to judge but to understand. Obsessed by a few images. Dying to leave again, to go and see more closely. In his eyes there was a glint, that of collectors of happiness. This man is free, truly so.
Because he has seen the world and shows it to us. He always goes his own way, following his own eyes, his own heart.
This man is free. Because he knows how to wander along the paths of the world. Because he likes adventure, loves fantasy and is attracted to the unforeseeable.
Annick Cojean