The Ever-Changing Faces of Barbès

Words and Photography by Emeric Fancelli

Three years ago, during my studies, I found a small apartment in a Parisian neighbourhood with a mixed reputation: Barbès, next to Château Rouge in the 18th arrondissement. Rather than the ‘danger’ I had been warned about, I found a vibrant, popular space where colours blend with the diverse origins of its inhabitants.

Yet, as it has done many times throughout history, Barbès is changing, reshaping the character of the place I once knew.

Paris is a city of contrasts, and nowhere is this more striking than in the 18th arrondissement. Here, the picturesque charm of Montmartre and Jules Joffrin meets the dynamic, multicultural energy of Barbès and Château Rouge.

In the early 1900s, Barbès and Château Rouge were not the African cultural hubs they are today. These areas were home to a mix of working-class Parisians, including Italian, Spanish and Jewish communities. Even back then, these neighbourhoods were marked by high population density, modest and run-down housing and a lively atmosphere. When European residents started moving to the suburbs post-WWII, North and West African migrants were drawn to the area by affordable rents and proximity to transport hubs. Businesses catering to these communities – African grocery stores, salons and markets – flourished, creating a vibrant cultural ecosystem.

France’s family reunification policy in the late 1970s brought a turning point, allowing (predominantly male) migrant workers to bring their families to join them. This led to a more permanent North and West African presence in Barbès and Château Rouge. While the neighbourhood thrived with cultural exchange, it also developed a reputation for petty crime such as pickpocketing and drug trafficking, partly due to high population density and its location near major transit hubs like Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est. In response, the 2010s saw increased policing and urban renewal projects aimed at addressing security concerns.

Today, Barbès and Château Rouge are evolving once again, with gentrification altering the fabric of the community. Trendy cafés, boutiques and restaurants are replacing traditional businesses, reducing the spaces where communities once came together. And the influx of a wealthier population is driving up rents, forcing many working-class African families to relocate to the suburbs.

A woman wearing a wig, accompanied by two children crossing the street

When I arrived in Paris in January 2022, I was unaware of all this history. All I knew about this neighbourhood was what my Parisian friends had told me: “Avoid renting an apartment in this area; it’s sketchy.” Pressed for time before starting my internship, I took what was available: a small 20-square-metre ground-floor apartment in Barbès.

I got off at the Barbès-Rochechouart station, the gateway to the neighbourhood. As soon as I stepped out of the metro, the smells of African cuisine, exotic and tech-savvy storefronts, street vendors and constant hustle and bustle made me feel overwhelmed and disorientated. That first week, I walked around with my head down, feeling like an outsider.

Everything changed the following week when I discovered the Barbès Market. Located under the bridge near the station, it’s one of the cheapest and liveliest markets in Paris. I was immediately immersed in everything that makes this neighbourhood unique. Generations and origins mix, and the stalls are filled with colourful fruits and vegetables, all at ridiculously low prices. At that moment, I realised this place would be my weekly escape. I felt compelled to explore the neighbourhood, to erase my preconceptions and form my own opinion.

A man waiting for his train at the Barbès Rochechouart metro station

A man walking through the neighbourhood, eating a cookie. His outfit leaves some doubt as to the era_

Four women in traditional dress for a wedding next door to my old apartment

What surprised me at first was the difference from one street to another. Whether it was the type of people, the condition of the streets or the general atmosphere, each block had its own vibe. I also noticed the stark contrast between the ‘beautiful 18th’ of Montmartre and the ‘working-class 18th’ when crossing Boulevard Barbès.

As I wandered the streets, I discovered various viewpoints of the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur up on the hill. I felt like I was seeing the king’s castle in the heights, a symbol of unattainable luxury from my working-class neighbourhood below.

During these first walks, I avoided carrying my camera – a bulky Sony with a 24-105mm lens. It’s not very discreet, and here, cameras are frowned upon. Instead, I soaked in the neighbourhood and witnessed life. I realised the area wasn’t as dangerous as I had imagined, but that safety wasn’t 100% guaranteed, especially for women. I also noticed the strong presence of illegal vendors selling stolen goods, alongside lively community spaces and African stores. My feeling of being an outsider faded as residents smiled and chatted with me. Everyone has their place here, as long as they don’t get in each other’s way.

In photography, I love when it’s hard to tell what era an image was taken in, especially when two eras blend together. Around Barbès and Château Rouge, such scenes are not uncommon: a resident dressed in vintage clothing in front of an old building, a woman wearing a wig and walking with two little girls in dresses. Not only did I feel like I was traveling through space, but also through time.

Eventually, I decided to take out my camera. I needed to capture the life here in images. If these neighbourhoods are destined to change, as they have in the past, it’s essential to bear witness and preserve a record.

Customers buying vegetables at the Barbès market

A few months ago, I returned to Paris after a year-long trip to Latin America. When I started house hunting, I was hoping to find a place near Barbès or Château Rouge again. After a month and a half of searching, I finally found a new apartment back in my dear 18th arrondissement.

However, my suitcases are still unpacked. I’ve immersed myself in the atmosphere of Barbès and Château Rouge and gone back to my old habits, but I feel like something has changed.

Returning to the street where I lived three years ago, it’s easy to notice the urban and social evolution. An African haberdashery has been replaced by a trendy coffee shop, streets have been renovated, and some community spaces have been repurposed for a different audience. The population has also diversified; while gentrification had already begun, it’s now common to see native French residents, tourists and international students.

On Rue Doudeauville, the African influence is still strong. You can find halal butcher shops, vendors of traditional fabrics and clothing, and small grocery stores. But it’s a different story on Rue d’Oran. A comedy club faces a piano bar, Les Ateliers de la Goutte d’Or offers a modern and responsible living space, and part of the street has been made pedestrian- and eco-friendly.

In a world where heritage reflects cultures and traditions, what will remain of Barbès and Château Rouge’s past? What will become of their African roots and their community networks once this transformation is complete? While change is inevitable, the risk of cultural uprooting and the loss of intangible heritage will only grow without intentional efforts to document and celebrate this rich history.

@emeric_gf