By Natalie Shooter
Exterior of Les Anciens Abattoirs, a former slaughterhouse in Casablanca. Photos courtesy: James Shooter
Morocco’s young arts scene has experienced something of a boom in the last few years, though this can’t be credited to the work of national institutions or the state’s support. Instead it has grown from the bottom up: through independent initiatives, DIY exhibition spaces and innovative artist residencies.
L’Appartement22, Rabat
L’appartement22, a small independent space and artist residency based in Morocco’s capital, Rabat, has played a fundamental role. Founded in 2002 by Abdellah Karroum, now director of Mathaf, Arab Museum of Modern Art in Doha, L’appartement22 gave a platform to Morocco’s rising talents – dubbed ‘Generation 00’ by Karoum – when few opportunities for artists existed. The very first show JF_JH Individuals, featured the works of Moroccan artists Safaa Erruas and Younes Rahmoun and many more Moroccan and international artists followed such as ‘World Under Pressure by Moroccan artist Batoul S’Himi and a residency by Lebanese-French artist Ninar Esber. A decade on, the space has become a springboard for cultural activity around the country and also extended their own projects to include R22, RadioApartment22, the country’s first experimental arts radio; Lot 219, a workshop in Fez; and Rif Résidence, an artist residency in the Rif mountains.
L’Appartement22, Rabat
Away from the capital, Casablanca has emerged as Morocco’s cultural core. The faded charm of the city centre, not to mention cheap rents and abandoned buildings in the suburbs have helped an independent arts scene to blossom. One such space on the edge of the city, in the working-class neighbourhood of Hay Mohammadi, is Les Anciens Abattoirs, a vast onetime slaughterhouse. La Fabrique Culturelle (The Cultural Factory), a collective of cultural associations and artists, have taken over the string of buildings and transformed them into an interdisciplinary arts centre, an answer to the lack of independent spaces to practice and exhibit in the city. While awaiting grants from the municipality that never came, the collective have had to self-fund the project to date, with associations such as Casamémoire, dedicated to preserving the city’s architectural heritage, helping to keep it afloat.
The collective have held a series of cultural events, from contemporary dance performances to residencies and a regular film screening cycle, bringing cultural richness to an otherwise neglected area. They’ve also registered the 1920s Modernist building on the country’s list of protected heritage buildings, saving it from risk of demolition. ‘There are more and more interesting things happening within Casablanca’s cultural scene,’ La Fabrique Culturelle’s director, Dounia Benslimane says, as we wander past walls adorned with graffiti. ‘The problem is that all the things that really work are independent.’ For Benslimane, it’s the lack of basic infrastructure that’s stunting the city’s cultural growth. As she notes, ‘The municipality of Casablanca don’t have any cultural policy for this city.’
Talking from her studio in the small northern Moroccan town of Tetouan, artist Safaa Erruas, expresses the same sentiment. ‘Moroccan art is changing. The only delayed thing is that we don’t have institutions, it’s all still very individual,’ she says. ‘The government have no political plans and absolutely no vision.’
Around Erruas’s studio, delicate art works are propped against the wall, others still in progress – circular porcelain tablets hang from a thread in the centre of the room; on one canvas hairs made from wire wisp out. Her work has a personal intimacy through which she channels subtle reflections of the society around her. Though she exhibits regularly outside the country, finding space to exhibit in Morocco is not always so easy.
In Tetouan, independent gallery spaces are nonexistent despite it being the location of Morocco’s most highly regarded art school, Institut National des Beaux Arts, founded in 1945, and home to numerous artists. Even Tetouan’s Museum of Modern Art, which is housed in a converted train station, stands as empty, having not yet opened, three years after the building was completed.
La Source du Lion, Casablanca
When the renowned Moroccan artist Hassan Darsi returned to Casablanca after his studies in Belgium, he struggled with the lack of spaces in the city available to artists. ‘I couldn’t find a context to develop my work, so I created a small space. From this though we can transmit further.’ Situated in Casablanca’s Mers Sultan district, in an unmarked apartment block, the modest space of La Source du Lion has become a dynamic meeting, research and networking space. ‘It’s more of a spirit. It’s not necessarily important to have something physical, but it’s the desire to do something,’ he says.
Tranket Street, Tetouan
Where national institutions and galleries are lacking in Morocco, numerous innovative residency programmes fill the void. Artist Younes Rahmoun, leads the way through Tetouan’s bustling ancient medina, sufi chants sung by a group of seated men flow out through the open door of a mosque. Behind a grand door is Tranket Street, a residency programme that Rahmoun co-founded, set in the atmospheric heart of the medina, in a 19th-century riad, where invited artists will work with local artisans. ‘In Tetouan we don’t have any galleries, we really don’t have anywhere to exhibit,’ Rahmoun says. For him, the work of Tranket, the town’s first ever residency, fills that gap.
Alongside L’appartement22, Rahmoun also coordinates the Rif Résidence, in the isolated mountainous village he grew up in. The project brings artists, writers and curators to engage the local community through their work. ‘We’re not taught anything about art there, neither in school or through the television,’ he says. ‘This project is important for both sides: artists can look for simpler ways to communicate with the people and locals can discover art and meet with people from different places. Through these different projects we can really change something.’ Rahmoun, who worked for over a decade before he could make a living from his art, hopes for ‘an easier life and better working conditions’ for the younger generation of artists in Morocco, noticing that already there are more opportunities for artists.
Erruas is also hopeful. ‘New graduates from Tetouan’s fine arts school definitely have more possibilities to show their work,’ she says. ‘If the work is powerful enough they can find their own way.’ She’s noticed a shift in the concept of art itself in Morocco, as a wider public becomes sensitive to different types of art. ‘Ten years ago the biggest artists in Morocco were painters, now the vision of art has completely changed,’ she says encouragingly. ‘We are already living on another level in terms of concepts.’
The variety of art initiatives across Morocco shows a dynamic scene entirely powered by individuals, though the lack of government investment means its future remains unstable. La Fabrique Culturelle are in limbo, unable to develop their state-owned space into a permanent cultural centre. ‘We are waiting for real engagement from the municipality to give us the official rights to manage this space,’ Benslimane says. ‘Only then have we got real potential to grow.’ Essentially, what Morocco’s independent arts scene needs to evolve further is to be given the space to breathe.