‘Andy Warhol of Marrakesh’ strikes again
▶ Layla Maghribi talks to Hassan Hajjaj about his tongue-in-cheek art on show in New York
Bold figures draped in bright colours and frenzied patterns set against the sandy hues of their North African backdrop are the visual delights awaiting visitors to British-Moroccan photographer Hassan Hajjaj’s latest exhibition.
On view at Fotografiska in New York City until Sunday, November 7, it brings together five series Hajjaj has developed over 30 years, inspired by a photo shoot he assisted on in Morocco in the 1990s.
“I looked around and it dawned on me that the models, stylist, photographer, clothes were all European and Marrakesh was just this exotic backdrop,” he tells The National.
“So that’s what really hit me. I was like, I’m going do my own sort of fantasy shoot with my people, but really sharing their environment with traditional style and take it to the next level.”
Using the polka dot, camouflage and animal-print patterns popular in western fashion at the time, Hajjaj styled traditional Moroccan wares with these fabrics and asked local women to wear them and often parody the poses typical of European models. The result is an audacious juxtaposition of sensibilities, styles and cultural narratives that ring as true today as they did when he began the project.
“I always hope with our region I’m doing something positive, something that there’s some truth to, there’s some setup, something funny, but I’m not making fun of our region or our own people,” he says. “I want to be able to present this in a positive way, because, you know, we have a lot of negative things [to deal with].”
The show’s title, Vogue, The Arab Issue, as well as being a tongue-in-cheek nod to the monthly fashion bible, is a critique of cultural cliches. Hajjaj says it is a reflection of the various socio-economic issues that have plagued the Arab world over the past decade. He wants to show western audiences something other than what they have been exposed to in the news. However, as with most artists, Hajjaj does not like to elaborate on the meaning of his work, keen as he is to let the audience decide that for themselves.
“So for the viewer, when they see the work, they can see maybe something bizarre, something good, something cool, something scary, but I let them decide what they think of the show and how they see this issue,” he says.
When he began his career, his inspired and dynamic Pop Art aesthetic quickly earned him the moniker the “Andy Warhol of Marrakesh”, not least because of his use of canned food from the Middle East to frame his art.
While he does not mind the comparison, even capitalising on it with his own Andy Wahloo clothing line, Hajjaj has said the canned goods motif is inspired by the repeated mosaic patterns in North Africa.
It was a long journey to get to this point. Hajjaj was born in the small fishing town of Larache in northern Morocco, where he was raised until he was 12 years old; then he moved to London in 1973.
After dropping out of school aged 15, Hajjaj sold flowers, then clothes, at Camden Market, while working on film and fashion shoots, as well as promoting the underground nightclub scene, on the side.
Enmeshed in the city’s bohemian and multicultural crowd, he soaked up the street artistry and music of the time and started his own streat-wear label, Real Authentic People, or RAP, in 1984.
“I was just trying to solve, make, design and sell stuff to friends and people who wanted to wear the same stuff we did,” he says, admitting that this project included the reinterpretation of designer logos, another of his instantly recognisable styling motifs now used in his artworks.
“When I started taking pictures, this is all I had, this is what I knew. So I was using this naturally, not thinking. I knew that using camouflage in the jalaba, for example, could look fashionable in one way or like a terrorist in another, so I knew how to play on this vibe.”
It wasn’t until the 1990s that his work really began to take off, after he returned to Morocco to reconnect with his roots and where he has been splitting his time with the UK ever since, including during the pandemic.
Hajjaj spent the first Covid-19 lockdown in London, and has been in Marrakesh since last summer. Like most people, he admits the start of the pandemic was a panicked time, particularly as shoots and exhibitions fell from his schedule like dominoes and he worried about the staff he had to support.
“At the beginning, I was like everybody else, trying to figure out what was going on and how to deal with this. Looking in the mirror, looking at yourself. And then it was like ‘OK, how do I stay positive and healthy?’”
He took on commercial work he might not have ordinarily accepted as a means of overcoming the burdens wrought by coronavirus, and also took advantage of the downtime to pursue other projects.
“It took me time to adjust to working on my shows and projects from the other side of the world,” he says.
“Normally, I am travelling constantly and like to be involved both physically and spiritually. After working on projects through Zoom calls, it made me realise how amazing my team has been and that you have to have a great team on the other side in order to deliver a great show or project.
Especially when you can’t be there physically.”
One of his most recent projects is a new hot drink brand, Jajjah – his surname spelt backwards – for which he partnered with renowned tea-maker Amine Baroudi in Marrakesh. The brew is produced and packaged in the city’s industrial area of Sidi Ghanem, where Jajjah’s tea room will also be. For those drinking at home, he is developing an app that will match mood music to the 10 types of tea he has created and the packaging will be made of prints by other Moroccan artists he wants to promote.
The project is very much in line with the ethos he has previously espoused, of giving back to the city he calls home. “It made me realise that if there’s any opportunity you can take to make some kind of change for yourself and to also employ people then there’s a nice satisfaction to it.”
Hajjaj was able to find that same sense of satisfaction when hiring a film crew to produce a project that has been 20 years in the making. His documentary, Brotherhood, is about the musical heritage of gnawa – the Moroccan poetry, dance and religion-inspired music genre – and capoeira – the Brazilian martial art made up of dance and acrobatic-style moves, and music.
By following a master in each of these forms, Hajjaj wants to give audiences a glimpse of the ways these heritages of African slavery have travelled and transformed across the ages.
The first half of the film was shot in Morocco, and now Hajjaj is waiting for travel restrictions to lift before filming the rest in Brazil. In the meantime, the film has been accepted to show at the next Sharjah Biennial.
Hajjaj says he’s happy his creative juices have kept flowing amid the pandemic and is looking forward to showing what he has done. “I think it’s good to kind of just, you know, believe in yourself and stay creative and try and finish off some projects,” he says.
While he has enjoyed his extended time in Marrakesh, Hajjaj says he’s not quite done with London yet. Pandemic permitting, he will return to what he calls his “other foot” this summer. It is, after all, the home of his boutique, Larache, from where items from his clothing brand Andy Wahloo – also a play on the Arabic meaning “I have nothing” – are sold.
Nevertheless, Hajjaj says there is little that can’t be done online any more and he sounds like a man who has enjoyed his life away from the big-city grind. He says he hopes to keep a connection to London, but ultimately spend more time in Marrakesh from now on.
“As I’m getting older, I’m realising I need to be back here,” he says of his beloved homeland. “It’s been nice for me to be in one place.
“It’s been sometimes strange and you get the little moments you need to be up in the air and go somewhere, but in general you can plan things a bit better.”
That said, he has also learnt to be adaptable amid the pandemic and is cautious about getting attached to any best-laid plans. “You have to kind of be ready for the changes, you know, whatever comes your way.”
So for the viewer, when they see the work, they can see maybe something bizarre, something cool