At the Africa Contemporary Art Fair 1-54, decolonization and deconstruction remain dominant terms. Yet the more these words appear, the more they feel like a selling point. Whether it’s African art from the world’s margins, Moroccan works with pre-Islamic narratives, or creations from the continent’s heart, a touch of folklore often slips in, dressed as modern traditionalism. While tribal art may be officially banned, its ghost still lingers in the halls of La Mamounia. Is this truly the art Africa wants to present today?
In 1960s Casablanca, a liberating modernity offered a solution. Though France officially ended its protectorate in 1956, the influence of a French elite lingered. A group of Moroccan artists educated in Europe decided it was time for change. Led by Farid Belkahi, a postcolonial avant-garde emerged: modern abstract art, infused with Berber and Arab traditions, moved from the academy into public space.
Today, AA Gallery pays tribute to Karim Benanni, a key figure of this movement. It’s a fitting reflection on a period of artistic renewal. Yet the question remains: does this image reflect contemporary reality, or does it reveal a nostalgia shaped for Western eyes?
A younger generation of artists continues the exploration of memory and identity in new ways. Hasnae El Ouarga of NIL Gallery takes a fresh step in examining the past. Her work honors memory and seeks what has been lost, using the nineteenth-century cyanotype technique, known for its deep blue hues. Nature and artifice merge into a trace of an invisible memory. Her pieces transcend Arab and Berber cultural heritage, anchoring instead the spirit of the material itself — powerful, intense, and poetic.
Other artists at the fair also grapple with memory. In Explosion, part of Nissrine Seffar’s series Topographie de l’oubli, the artist traces the visible and invisible marks of history. She engages with the genius loci of Knokke, a Belgian seaside resort, mixing seawater with remnants of First World War memories to craft a mystical quest for endurance and balance.
African and diasporic artists often seek alternatives to imposed colonial art histories. Reclaiming traditional weaving, Tassili rock art, Ashanti patterns, or colorful wax prints is a powerful tool. Yet sometimes these gestures also feel like offering the past to a gaze eager to consume it.
Firanja! Tua maxima culpa.
— shouted, painted, or engraved — resonates anew.
Roméo Mivekannin (Cécile Fakhoury Gallery) approaches this subtly, treating old sheets with voodoo elixirs to give them a nostalgic sepia tone. In doing so, he bridges the spiritual traditions of his homeland with Europe’s familiar quest for authenticity, producing a sly aesthetic that reorients Orientalism.
The 1-54 Art Fair spreads pumping art-live across Marrakesh. Near Djemaa el Fna for example, DaDa Marrakech presents In Between Blues, curated by Roger Karera. The exhibition immerses visitors in the color blue — its history, materiality, and symbolic resonance. Through sculpture, installations, textiles, and design, blue becomes a space for memory, identity, movement, and transformation.
The show culminates with a projection by British Nigerian artist Yinka Shonibare. Exploring identity and non-identity, the piece features a diva in a baroque setting singing Addio del Passato from La Traviata. She wears African wax prints, though these fabrics are produced in Indonesia and introduced to Africa by European colonizers. Are we defined by who we are, or who others say we are?
In Marrakesh’ industrial district of Sidi Ghanem, Galerie MCC presents Red Burn, a solo exhibition by Salma Chedaddi. The young artist inverts the male gaze, depicting painted men in vulnerability, suffused with a tender red glow.
For centuries, art has exposed semi-naked women to the male gaze. I want to capture the female version of this gaze. It exists and must be seen, and as an African woman with an Arab background, I aim to inscribe her in painting.
– Chedaddi declares.
The art of Africa and its diaspora burn with relevance. Dialogue with the Western gaze is a dance of attraction and resistance. 1-54 demonstrates that African art no longer needs to prove its legitimacy. Perhaps a tipping point has been reached — not because the questions have disappeared, but because they no longer revolve around legitimacy. Here, art speaks for itself, offering its answers to the world.