Sara Benabdallah’s nostalgic photographs transport us into the warm and colourful heart of Marrakech. Through her lens, we’re invited to embrace the city’s diverse cultures and crafts and to respect the role that women play in her society. She effortlessly leapfrogs over stereotypes through a poetic interplay of North African and Western tropes, all the while nurturing her own relationship with modern Morocco. Benabdallah was born and raised in Marrakech before leaving to study at the New York Film Academy in NY and LA, followed by a masters at Savannah College of Art and Design. But it was her return home in 2020/21 that sparked her true artistic voice through a tender rediscovery of her roots. She makes her 1-54 Marrakech debut this weekend with Nil Gallery, which will showcase her latest series ‘Al-Astrulabiya’. Nataal goes star-gazing with her across The Red City.

Tell us about your upbringing and route into creativity.

I grew up in the medina of Marrakesh. I was very lucky because my parents’ business was renovating historical riads and renting them to tourists who were often artists. So, I would meet all of these creative people from around the world. One of them taught me to use a camera and from a young age, I knew I wanted to go into film.

What did you learn from your time studying in the US?

It was a great experience and New York will always hold a special place in my heart. But after five years of moving around the country, I’d discovered how little Americans knew about Morocco and how many misconceptions there were about Moroccan women in particular. After my masters, I was feeling lost and uninspired, so it was time to come home.

Was it easy to find your feet again in Marrakech?

Marrakech today is very different to the city I grew up in. I didn’t used to know other kids who were interested in the art world but while I was away, I was seeing this growing wave of young creatives. I really wanted to be part of that. When I got back, my initial inspiration was my Tata (grandmother). She embodies the true essence of Morocco and one that is often overlooked. She's a special person and has had such an interesting life. So, that led me to my journey of self-discovery through her. My work is a manifestation of my quest to understand and celebrate my origins. The more I learn about my grandma and this beautiful country, the more I get motivated to create. It's really that simple.

How did the ‘custom frames’ come about in your work, which range from flowers to aluminium?

I started doing them during Covid. I was still stuck in America and desperate to come home so the frames represented that imprisonment, in a way. And since I’ve been back, they’ve become very intricate frames that I make in collaboration with artisans I grew up around in the medina. During 1-54 I’ll welcome guests to a studio visit where they can meet some of them. I really want to celebrate their craftsmanship in my work because there is a risk of these skills dying out.

And the same goes for your use of local textiles?

Yes, that’s important for me because it all goes back to women. Morocco’s rich cultural heritage is maintained by the vital role that women play in its preservation – through textiles, music, poetry and even the Amazigh dialect. Recently I’ve been going to a village in the High Atlas as part of a programme to help people affected by the earthquake. What I’ve learned is that in rural areas, men often go away to work for months on end, so it’s the women who are the backbone of the community and the family. They’re not just cooking and taking care of the kids. They’re farmers and tending to livestock and they’re weaving, too. So, you can see why female Moroccan artists offer such a distinct and valuable perspective of the essence of this country.

What’s the story behind your 2023 series, ‘Rhinestone Nigab’, which you presented at a group show in London?

It stemmed from conversations I had with some Americans about the niqab, the veil women wear over their faces. The West see it in a very different way to how I see it. It’s a choice, we’re not forced to wear it. So, by adding rhinestones to them, and having the women wear cowboy boots – both of which are very familiar to Americans – I wanted to make relatable connections and show that it’s just a fashion statement.

Your latest series, ‘Al-Astrulabiya’, features an image of a stunning knitted suit.

I discovered this extinct outfit in a book, which was a men’s fully knitted look. Knitting isn’t something you associate with Moroccan costumes so I was blown away. I collaborated with a friend to recreate it in a sustainable and authentic way. And in the photograph the female model is actually my cousin. I put the image on social media and people have been amazed by the craftsmanship and by all these historical details that have been lost, pretty much.

Some images in ‘Al-Astrulabiya’ also draw on astronomy.

I’ve been looking at the astrolabe, which was an object of celestial observation from the 10th century that was developed by a Syrian female astronomer knick-named Al-Astrulabiya. It’s yet another example of our contributions to knowledge during the Islamic Golden Age. We were way ahead of the curve. My grandfather, may he rest in peace, used to collect astrolabes. So, this is my way of recognising the beautiful things that our ancestors created.

What’s next for you?

I’m opening a tea house with my family so that is taking over my life! And I hope to have a couple of exhibitions coming up in the US. Inshallah. I just want to keep exploring the arts and creating with more focus.