In this exclusive interview, we delve into the world of Moroccan photographer Sara Benabdallah. Known for her captivating portrayal of Moroccan women and their cultural heritage, Sara’s work offers a unique and intimate perspective on the lives of her subjects. After spending nine years in New York, she returned to Marrakesh, driven by a deep longing for her roots and the growing artistic community back home.
A Moroccan woman wearing a bedazzled veil embroidered with the words “Raised on Dolly” is not something you think you would ever witness, but photographer Sara Benabdallah, 29, made it happen. After living in New York for nine years and drawn by a deep longing for her roots and a burgeoning artistic community back home, Sara made the poignant decision to return to Morocco, where she now resides as a proud Marrakeshia, fully dedicated to making her heritage shine through her photographs.
Born and raised within the historic walls of riads in the heart of the medina, Sara’s upbringing was immersed in the rich traditions and architectural wonders that define the red city, which continue to inspire her every day. The young photographer’s journey has shaped her unique perspective and given her a brand new outlook on the culture she thought she knew.
In Sara’s artistic process, her grandmother plays a central role. “My grandma is my ultimate muse,” Sara says. From her latest exhibition “Al-Astrulabiya,” showcased at the 1-54 African Contemporary Art Fair in Marrakesh, to her earlier series “Hayati Diaries,” her ‘Teta’ posed for the camera, alongside other Moroccan women.
Women are indeed Sara’s preferred subjects to capture, as she is passionate about sharing their stories. She firmly believes that they are the true custodians of Moroccan cultural heritage. With each frame, she aims to amplify their voices and pave the way for a new generation of female photographers to thrive.
Pin Africa: How has your upbringing in the medina of Marrakesh influenced your artistic approach and the themes you explore in your work today?
Sara Benabdallah : Growing up, my family and I lived in various riads because of my parents’ work, which is to restore historical riads. My childhood was spent surrounded by construction sites and artisans, like plaster workers and Zellij (i.e., hand-chiseled tile pieces) craftsmen. These experiences sparked my creativity from a young age. They really nourished my artistic side and definitely made me who I am today. My parents’ deep love and appreciation for the Moroccan heritage and architecture were really passed down to me. That’s something I’m very passionate about and try to celebrate in my work.
What motivated your decision to return to Morocco after nine years in the US?
I struggled to find my voice there, especially when trying to tell stories that were meant for an American audience. It just didn’t feel right to me.
At the same time, I noticed a growing community of Moroccan artists on social media. This was different from the Morocco I knew growing up. By 2022, I felt it was the right time to come back home and be close to these fellow creatives. Discovering their work online inspired me to return.
What made you use photography as a form of artistic expression?
At the age of 10, I was introduced to photography by family friends who were photographers from Canada and France. They often stayed with us during the summers and took a lot of pictures with us. I knew then that I wanted to pursue something related to art and photography.
When I was about 13, I started using my mom’s VHS camera to make home movies with my sisters whenever we were bored.
In high school, I had a small camera and would take it with me everywhere, especially on school trips. At my Moroccan high school, I was known as “the girl with the camera,” because it wasn’t very common at the time. Later, I transferred to the American School of Marrakesh, where they had a photography department. They made me their official photographer, and I took the yearbook pictures for my classmates.
So, photography has always been a part of my life. I always had my camera with me, whether it was for school or just for fun.
How would you describe your style?
It’s a reflection of how I perceive Marrakesh. The city has these contrasting, sometimes grimy, almost dirty areas that are very red and dark from one side, and very bright from the other. That’s the vibe that I’m drawn to and like to incorporate in my work. The picture with the donkey is a clear example of it. I also really enjoy the oversaturated, over-contrasty, kitschy look, which is why I love to use Photoshop to help me achieve that. It’s a huge part of my artistic process.
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
My grandma is my ultimate muse. When I moved back home, all that was important for me was to reconnect with my roots. So, I started spending my days with my Teta gardening, baking… She never went to school, but she’s so creative and doesn’t even realize it. The way she combines colors and patterns in her outfits, the way she needs to make every dish she cooks look pretty… She actually initiated most of our projects.
Wandering around the medina (i.e., the old city), I also started appreciating simple things surrounding me that I didn’t necessarily notice before living abroad, as if I got a clean slate. Inspiration-wise, I think we Moroccans are the luckiest humans on the planet. It doesn’t take much really; inspiration is everywhere you go.
What made you explore the theme of the Ngab in your photography? (i.e., the Ngab is a small veil covering the face except the eyes that is different from Niqab)
When I was spending time with my Teta, I naturally started documenting it through pictures and videos and posting them on Instagram. My posts ignited conversations about Moroccan women and traditional clothing.
Eventually, I was reached by Kinsey and Christina, who are two incredible women from Egypt and Lebanon and are based in London. They started this collective called “Hayati Diaries” (i.e., “My Life Diaries”) to showcase contemporary women artists from the Arab World and North Africa.
For this project, I chose to continue this discussion that sparked so much interest on my Instagram page. In some of my conversations with Americans, they found the outfit with the Ngab strange and thought women were submissive and only wearing it because of their husbands.
But I could recall a conversation with my other grandmother who wore it for a long time before she passed away. She told me it was a fashion trend back then; it was even considered sexy since it was sometimes see-through. After some digging, I found out that, in the 1940s, women added the Ngab to make the Djellaba, which is originally a men’s outfit, more feminine. It also allowed them to replace the traditional Hayk outfit, which was not very practical, as more women were starting to join the workforce. So I wanted to shed light on this Moroccan heritage that is the Ngab.
Can you share your creative process for your project with the “Hayati Diaries” collective?
I thought it would be cool to mix Moroccan clothes with a very Americana, western style using flashy rhinestones and embroidery made popular by Elvis Presley, and cowboy boots which I had to go all the way to Tennessee to get.
The shooting was so much fun. It took place at my dad’s farm and I already knew some of the women photographed. You need to know that in Morocco, it’s very tricky to photograph women, especially in rural areas where people are very private. They’re unlikely to let any photographer, let alone a man, take their pictures. Trust is essential; without it, they won’t agree to be photographed.
So being a woman actually made things easier, but I still had to convince them and earn their trust. We gathered, shared food, laughed, and bonded. They even started reminiscing about the time they used to wear the Ngab or recalled their own grandmother or aunt wearing it.
“I believe the best way to truly understand Morocco is through the lens of Moroccan women artists. They have a unique perspective and connection with their subjects, especially when photographing other women.”
You also depicted Moroccan women in your recent series “Al-Astrulabiya”. What is the story behind it?
The stars and the sky are something I’ve always been drawn to and I wanted to do a series related to them. My grandfather used to collect astrolabes (i.e., an early scientific instrument used to tell the time and for observational purposes), and I spotted a couple of them in medina. Everything seemed to connect, so I delved into some research. While the astrolabe was originally invented in Greece, it was further enhanced by a Syrian woman, Mariam Al-Ijliyyah. This astronomer is rarely discussed, although she made significant advancements in the field. This realisation inspired me to create a series influenced by Mariam, featuring various women.
I’m fascinated by women who made a difference, whether in science or other fields, like Mariam or one that’s closer to home, Fatima Al-Fihria, who founded the first university in the world. It’s sad that history often overlooks women.
For this project, I also had the chance to work with the same artisans I grew up with. We created these chromated copper frames with shapes inspired by the astrolabe. The frames were the real stars of the show.
What do you hope to accomplish through your art?
As a woman myself, it’s natural for me to focus on women in my work. They play a crucial role in our society. Despite Morocco’s great advancement on women’s issues, there are still inequalities that affect us. I aim to shed light on these struggles in my work.
I also want to create meaningful work that showcases Morocco and inspires other Moroccan artists, especially the younger generation. I want to encourage them to explore our rich culture and not take it for granted.
Why is it important for you to have more Moroccan women photographers?
I believe the best way to truly understand Morocco is through the lens of Moroccan women artists. They have a unique perspective and connection with their subjects, especially when photographing other women. Their work also offers a deep insight into our rich culture. Moroccan women in general hold a profound understanding of our customs, especially those within the intimate spheres where men are not allowed. So much of our heritage, like carpet making, weaving, jewelry crafting, and even our language is passed down through women. Isn’t that beautiful?
Besides, I would love to discover the perspectives of women photographers from different regions of Morocco which vary in traditions. Today, there are clearly more male photographers than female ones, but I hope this will change soon because there are still so many stories to be told by women.
