Five years ago, I was on a beach in Restinga on the Northern coast of Morocco near city of Tetouan. As I lay on the sand admiring the shells, I thought “this is what it was like when the ships came home.” And the ships were clear to me, dark wood with white sails, and I thought “Phoenicians.” I wrote a blog post about the experience. I did a little research on the Phoenicians. I largely forgot about the strange visual quality of the day dream experience.

But some stories keep coming back. And in the past five years, the story of the ships that came to the Moroccan coast is one that continues to come to me in more and more detail. Only the detail isn’t about the life of the men on the ships or their trade routes. The details are about Tanit and Astarte and the customs and beliefs of the Sea Peoples.

I’ve started to write this story down. I have 40 pages of draft text. I struggle because 1) the Sea People refused written language, recognizing it as a means of creating debt. They had no name themselves. The did not call themselves “Phoenicians” and 2) The story of how I got the story is a story in and of itself.

I am curious if there is a reader out there looking for information on Asarte, also known as Aphrodite, Ishtar, or Venus, Tanit, the dark goddess, the moon goddess, and the Sea People. Would you read a book like that? It is a story that is incidentally tied up with the origins or Moroccan design.

Geometric patterns made by Moroccan zillij, mosaic materpieces, capture attention and mesmerize. For me, the facination with zillij is so overwhelming that it makes me love Moroccan artistic traditions. It also drives me to write and produce this blog.

Zillij is an incredibly inpractical artform. It requires the understanding and execution of complex geometric patterns. The production process involves multiple artisans and various skill-sets; such as planning and drafting and producing (mining, firing, pigments, glazing, and cutting) clay tiles. For all the training, discipline, and practice required, it results in a piece of art that is nameless and unattributable. Many zillij masterpieces are public water fountains in the medina of Fes. They are city assets, public utlities, and works of art. Tiles are broken, come lose, or otherwise need repair.

The artisans who maintain or restore traditional zillij installations are inspired by the work of the “masters” who came before them. It is a form of inspiration that requires self-discipline because it requires restoring someone else’s unattributable work. They will be another nameless artist in a long line of artists that contributed public art, an expression of the collective. I think this aspect of art for public use and consumption is most beautifully expressed by the many wonderful water fountains used in Morocco’s old cities. The Art is not only anonymous, but useful, lending beauty, wonder and awe to the mundane yet privileged act of collecting water.

For zillij artists, there is no one “master” to worship or admire. There is only the art and the ideas it contains, which, I believe, cannot be accurate expressed in any other form, written, auditory, or visual.

Zillij has been actively practiced in Morocco for over 10 centuries. Despite the current poor economic condtions of the country, Moroccan families continue to commission zillij installations for living rooms. Zillij installations are expensive. Artisans are respected for their craft, but don’t necessarially make much of a living doing their life’s work. Zillij is a truly Moroccan artform and a soure of cultral pride.

I had a chance to visit architecutural masterpieces in Istanbul: the Blue Mosque, Haigia Sophia, and Topkapi Palace. I was disappointed that I didn’t see anything the mimiced the feeling or style of Moroccan zillij. I realized how unique Moroccan mosaics are; they can’t be mistaken or replaced by mosaics of other cultures or styles. Most cultures create tile patterns by painting tesselating patterns on square tiles. The individual pieces of zillij used in Moroccan geometric designs are unique. The result is a mash-up of Phonecian and Roman mosaics, which were forms of representational art, and the abstract geometric patterns of Islam. Yet, they contain none of the arabesque forms of middle-eastern ornamentation and none of the representational depictions used in Roman mosaics.

I can’t imagine another way to bring the art of Morocco into a museum setting other than to have the artisans construct the setting, which is what exactly what the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York did in its new Islamic wing. Now, I have a new reason to visit New York. There’s a video showing the construction of the court that I tried to embed here, but it didn’t work.

The examiner wrote an article about the Moroccan Court including the following information on color symbolism:

• Black and white – good and bad (soul)
• Blue – land
• Green – water
• Honey – air

Hmmm..green is water and blue is land? I’m thinking that’s a typo. But I do like the interpretation of black/white being soul, a balance of good and bad forces.

So what do you think? Would you visit – did you visit – the Moroccan Court in New York?

Also, you can tour the new Islamic Wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art online.

Rabat and Casablanca
I’ve stayed in Rabat often, but never had a reason to stay at Riad Baraka. Located in Oudaya which is has a picturesque medina (old city). And you can take a walk to the Spanish Gardens for tea. I visited it from the outside. It has a picture of a golden cat on the wall. Baraka means good luck. I imagine it’s lovely. You get a view of Sale on the other side of the Bou Rgreg (Bou means river, not sure what Rgreg means). There’s a lovely waterfront, a beautiful medina, shopping across the street. If you wander the medina and see a corner baker, by all means buy something. I believe the petit pain au chocolate runs a couple dirhams.

If you want to take a day trip, you could take a cab to the Grand Mosque in Sale. The architecture there gives you a sense of what you can see in Fes and Meknes.

I’ve never visited to the mosque in Casablanca but would like to. I’m sure it’s a beautiful day trip if you want a Casablanca destination and it should be easy to figure out transportation. You could take the train to Casablanca and a cab to the mosque. I think it’s about a 45 minute train ride from Rabat to Casablanca.

Fes and Meknes
These cities are on the train line so they’re easy to get to. I think it’s about a three hour ride. The train schedule and look-up is online at http://www.oncf.ma/.

Accommodations in Fes are more expensive than Meknes and Meknes is a lovely city only a short train ride from Fes. So, while Fes is the “cultural capital” I think Mekenes is the bargain place to stay. Even though I had a horrible experience staying at Riad D’Or (I think it had mainly to do with being a woman traveling with a three year old), it is a good deal and a nice riad and lots of other people have had positive experiences there. Of course, Riad Safir, as noted, is an excellent alternative, but a bit musty in the ground-level room. If you can afford it, staying at Riad 20 Jasmines was awesome.

I’d organize a tour in Fes. You may be able to have a guide meet you at the train station. There is no way you’re going to find your way (without loads of frustration) around the medina in Fes. You could tour it every day for weeks, I imagine, and never see the same view twice. It’s a marathon experience, but well worth it. Fes has a tourist center. I thought I had a link to that contact information, but I can’t find it online. The person at the riad can help you.

Marrakesh
Marrakesh has hostels I hear and some bargain riads. I haven’t been there much, so I can’t really recommend specifics. Marrakesh is on the train. If you get to go, it’s a very different experience from Fes or Atlantic coast. That’s the great thing about Morocco. If you take the train there, even for just a day, visit Jamal L’Efna, the main square that gets going at night. There’re all kinds of exotic foods and sights, sheep brains to eat and live snakes or monkeys to hold. It feels kind of Indiana Jones. There are tons of things to see and experience in Marrakesh, but its not a city I know very well. I always wished I’d visits Les Jardin Majorelle, but I haven’t yet.

I’ve probably busted your budget here. But if you can budget for just one night in a riad, you’ll remember it always. Happy travels.

People leave comments across this site asking for contacts who know how to build or craft traditional Moroccan furnishings and interiors. I can’t blame them. Check out the great post and pictures “Four Riads in Five Days.” I wish I knew architects versed in Moroccan design. I wish there were more Moroccan design in America, which is where I’ve been stuck for the last few years.

I feel bad for neglecting this site. Morocco is never far from my mind.

I’ve been doing lots of custom painting, stencils, and lighting at home. I appreciate the peace Moroccan design brings me, even when I’m so far from Moroccan sunlight. There’s no substitue for sunlight.

There’s an empty bank building in Washington, DC, near where I work. There’s a closed Hann’s Shoes story on the street level. I wish, I dream, I see a space inside of it, renovated with a riad’s interior and a fresh produce vendor on the street level shop. We live so much better together, or so do the two cultures inside me.

Moroccan design makes the best use of light and space. The rooms waste nothing. And everything is an extension of the space. No pre-fab. No standard. Custom everything.

I want this bathroom so bad. Where are you, Moroccan design?

“Night is a tent without a central pole or pegs or supports. It opens up horizons and connects earth with sky from whose remote holes a faint light twinkles, hardly illuminating itself. The larger hole, in whose orbit trail smaller ones, has disappeared or perhaps closed up tonight. Some holes are better kept open than patched up, since the patching gives the illusion that the hole is restored to its normal state, only to be revealed still torn someday. Thus the mender realizes that he has been deceiving himself and others as well. It is said “cure your wound before it gets larger.” No, let it get larger and larger until it consumes the whole body, and a new one will be born.”

The Volubilis Visitor Center was designed to leave a minimal imprint on visitors to the Roman ruins and UNESCO World Heritage site. The new buildings fold themselves into the hills and the ruins take center stage.

The project was completed by Kilo Architecture. I appreciate the intention of clean, considerate, and lovely architecture. If I were in Morocco, I would go to Volubilis to see the new as well as the old.

See the Achitecture Review article for more details on the project.

I never heard of Moorish revival architecture until I saw the Bloomingdale’s home store in Chicago. It is housed in a restored Masonic temple built by architects Huehl and Schmidt in 1912 for the Shriners.

The building was declared a historic Chicago landmark in 2001. After renovations, which included replacing the original domes, the Bloomingdale’s home store opened there in 2003.

According to the Medinah Shriners website, they, aka Shriners or Shrine Masons, belong to the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine for North America (A.A.O.N.M.S.). They’re only tied to an Arabic theme through the imagination of its founders, Billy Florence, an actor, and Walter Fleming, a physician. Florence attended a party in Marseilles hosted by an Arabian diplomat. At the end of the party, the guests became members of a secret society. Florence returned to the States inspired by his Marseilles experience and worked with Fleming to create an exotic backdrop for the fraternity. They designed elaborate rituals, salutations, emblems, and costumes, including the Shriners’ distinguishing red Fez hat.

When the building opened, it housed the fraternity. They gathered in a red velvet audotrorium now filled with escaltors, $1,000 sheets, and a cool sound system designed under the constraints the historic status placed on renovations: no speakers mounted on the dome and floating floors.

The Shriners used to hold parades for children regardless of religion. They still work today towards child welfare and health issues.

The building is obviously Moroccan-inspried. I love the way the eight-point star is used in the stain glass windows like a head of a body.

In the above video, Paloma Picasso discusses her for zellige-inspired jewelry collection made for for Tiffany & Co. I’ve noticed lots of designers playing with Moroccan mosaic patterns as part of their jewelry collections.

The above piece is designed by Lee Angel (www.leeangel.com and reminds me of some of my favorite tile work. I bought the one in the picture on sale at bluefly.com. If this discount were deeper, I’d buy the red and white one too. I hope I love it when I meet it in person.

I’ve been thinking about the number three lately. Not unusual if you consider how much three pops-up in our collective psyche: three cheers; red, yellow, green; the Holy Trinity; birth, life, death; three primary colors. Three expresses the tripartite wholeness of our universe. We instinctively recognize it. Three is a group. Less is nothing much really and more than three is excessive or redundant.

I started looking for three in Moroccan design. There is only one pattern I can think of that is clearly triangular. I call it water because it flows. I’m not sure what the formal name of the pattern is. I tried creating it a few times and realized I need a triangle grid, not square, to get the motion right. It makes use of a six-point star; two triangles, Seal of Solomon.

In Sumerian language, numbers were called man, woman, many. In Greek culture, the monad (one) and dyad (two) were considered parents of all other numbers. Like numbers, descriptions for colors also vary across time and from culture to culture. But all cultures have words for at least black, white and red. This limited vocabulary expresses that there is color, absence of color, and then infinite color. Three is the threshold to many. Three introduces infinity and infinite possibility.

There is no number like three. It is the only number of infinite many that is the sum of all numbers that precede it.

The first shape to emerge from the vesica pisces is the triangle. It is the first shape born of space (circles) and nonspace (point). It resolves the duality of two circles and lets surface forms emerge. Triangles are the surface of our universe. The pattern goes on forever. We ourselves are three parts, head, body, limbs. We recognize three within ourselves and within our world. It ties us, mysteriously, to the whole. Somehow, three becomes one.

I wrote an article about the story of two and the archway that is so common in Morocco and how it is formed by the vesica pisces. But two has no harmony. Two is a tension, and expression of polarity, a reflection of opposites. Two is the black and white; the yes-and-no world. There must be a third to resolve the tension of two and create harmony. The archway is nothing without the keystone. Two coming together make three. Like two chemicals introduced to each other, if there is any reaction both are changed and emerge as a third.

I look for three in Moroccan patterns. I mentioned one where it is evident. The other patterns don’t seem to pay the number three specific tribute. But three is in every pattern; the 12-point star, the underlying grids, the surface of our world. Anything that expresses the infinite or the interconnectedness of our universe and our lives makes use of the number three.