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Brownbook is an urban lifestyle guide focusing on design, culture and travel across the Middle East and North Africa. We publish six times a year.
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Brownbook 23: Ways of SpeakingThere are over 27 varieties of Arabic spoken across the Arab World. These differences – sometimes subtle, sometimes worlds-apart – are as much formed by location as they are by history. In Brownbook 23, we travel to three urban environments to understand how language itself can form a location and a history. I.U. Heart
A cheap plastic seal spins into view, accompanied by the sound of clapping and whooping guffaws. “Like all artists from Middle East [sic], I always have something to show,” howls artist Aresh Hanaei, in broken English, in this abrasive and rather assaulting video piece. What The Third Line’s latest group of Iranian artists have to show is, however, a little confusing on first glance. It’s quite a noisy affair: Vahid Sharifian’s sculptural monstrosities, depicting Minnie Mouse perched on a plastic fountain that gushes milk, face Mahmoud Bakhshi’s simple yet domineering carpet emblazoned with the face of president Mahmoud Ahmedinijad. Shahab Fotouhi has picked up newspaper covers synonymous with Iran’s 1979 Revolution and superimposed them over wallpaper-ish drawings blood-red poppies, while I.U. Heart’s curator, Mamali Shefahi, has produced a sinister if somehow appealing collection of 12 lightboxes that pour an ethereal green light onto the gallery floor. An entirely mixed-media and installation show, I.U. Heart subtly explores elements of the fragile media war between the US and Iran that has taken place since the Revolution. Curator Shefahi gives us his explanation on the idea of the show and his own included works. “My idea was really to present each artist as if it is a solo show for them. But I do care about the combinations of the works. I think that curators never seem to find any relationship between Iranian artists that they work with.” Brownbook wishes you Ramadan Kareem
Harira is the benchmark for any post-fast feast in Morocco. Here, the head chef at Momo Restaurant Familial, arguably London’s most revered North African eatery, gives us his own recipe 
Ingredients (Serve 4 to 6) Method David Jones is head chef of Momo Restaurant Familial, London. For more information on David Jones or Momo visit www.momoresto.com Dhofar
Is it the foothills of the Andes, or the verdant valleys of merry England? Neither, actually Misty rains pass over freshly greened mountains. In the valleys below, meadows of wild flowers suddenly bloom with colour. It’s hard to believe that, only a few kilometers away, lie the rolling sand dunes of the Empty Quarter – the longest continuous desert in the world. Yet nestled between desert and ocean is Dhofar, the quiet refuge of the GCC. Despite its awe-inspiring mountains, immaculate white beaches, and masses of towering coconut palms – to many, Dhofar’s fame revolves around the monsoon, or ‘Khareef’ season, which lasts from July to September, and transforms the region into a green haven. Perched just within the Tropics, temperatures average just 27 degrees Celsius at this time of the year. The season’s misty drizzle attracts over a quarter of a million visitors from around the Middle East, who arrive en-masse to enjoy respite from the punishing summer heat. Though I have lived here all my life, Dhofar’s beauty and its people never fail to charm me. Dhofaris are a mix of Bedouin nomads, mountain cattle herders, and townspeople, and this background inspires some of the rich culture of the region. Each of these distinct groups comes with its own set of tribes, traditions, attire, lifestyle and – in the case of Bedouins and mountain people – their own unwritten languages. One of Dhofar’s more distinct features is its strong tribal system. It is near impossible for a local to meet another local without immediately having to inquire about the person’s tribe. For all these differences, the locals remain united and simply define themselves as ‘Dhofari’ to anyone outside of our tightly knit society… Engineering an art fairThe inaugural Marrakech Art Fair kicks off in October. We talk to Hicham Daoudi and Renaud Siegmann about why Morocco is the region’s next big hub. 
What is Morocco’s art scene on a local level right now? Hicham Daoudi: Across Casablanca, Marrakech and Rabat there is nearly 70 galleries. Everything really started in 2002, with the emergence of a new, professional scene. I was maybe one of the leaders of this group because I started to do my own auctions in Marrakech at that time. Since this period, people have come to see art differently in Morocco. There is a greater recognition for Moroccan artists, as well as Orientalist painters and contemporary European and Middle Eastern artists. What are the advantages to operating an art scene there? HD: We can sell almost everything in Morocco. There are clients for modern art, those looking for contemporary art and others looking for purely Arabic art. The people we deal with in Morocco are more of a European mind than an Arabian mind. They studied in France and the United States; so they are very close to these cultures. Maybe the way we look at art is different from the way people in the Middle East look at art. Renaud Siegmann: We want to show that Morocco can be a good partner for the Middle East to promote art of the Islamic world. For the Marrakech Art Fair, you’ve brought Caroline Clough-Lacoste on board who helped to establish ArtParis-Abu Dhabi. Can you comment on this? HD: What put Caroline in Abu Dhabi is nothing in relation to what is happening in Morocco. In Morocco we need help and support, more than knowhow. ArtParis didn’t export to Morocco as they did to Abu Dhabi. Marrakech Art Fair has no relationship to ArtParis. The way we want to build this fair, it’s a different place, different market and a different public. To read the rest of this interview with Hicham Daoudi and Renaud Siegmann, read Issue 22 The state of indie
Not since the late 1970s has MENA witnessed such abundance of diverse forms of cinema. Independent local and ‘foreign’ titles are making it to the big screen and audiences are once more seeking – and finding – an alternative to commercial blockbusters. In the process, they are fuelling a thriving cine-club culture and filling the seats of forward-looking art house cinemas. Through retrospectives and festivals, repertory programs and college workshops, revived art-house theatres such as Beirut’s Metropolis and the Cinémathèque de Tanger are reaching wider audiences. These spaces expose the general public to diverse ideas and narratives, which can range from developments in the craft of filmmaking to political thought. They host talks, archive films, raise funds, inspire and act as meeting points for all interested in film. They also reach out to local audiences with alternatives to the usual injection of foreign films and also to an international public by promoting local productions and artists. These are small but effective cultural epicenters where public discussion and debate can take place. Both the Cinémathèque de Tanger and Metropolis operate in countries beset with huge gaps in their national film histories, largely due to 30 years of limitations on public expression. On a local level, they must not only find and project regionally-made films but actually unearth, document and restore them. In short, they need to re-construct a regional cinematic narrative and help audiences engage and interact with it. At the same time, art-house cinemas must compete with Hollywood mega-productions, and the massive output of commercial Egyptian and Bollywood cinema… Urban Lab
Meet the Casablanca-based collective who are setting light to Morocco’s street culture revival. When 28-year-old graffiti artist Morran Ben Lahcen first set about airbrushing the face of Notorious B.I.G. onto the shutters of a Casablanca storefront, he dodged launched pebbles and skeptical questions. Then, only two days later, a hundred kids and teens joined him — standing by quietly, watching him work. Morran belongs to a Casablanca-based collective of young urban artists who want to expand public access to art which they say has become little more than a plaything of the elite. The collective, which includes a sculptor, painter, tagger, photographer and graphic designer, is stirring-up creative leanings in a disenfranchised population stifled by high poverty and few opportunities. Casablanca is Morocco’s largest and most troubled city but, thanks to grassroots efforts like these, is fast becoming a hub for a generation of artist-activists using art to command social change. “Culturally speaking, Morocco is in an adolescent phase,” says Mohamed Smyej, a photographer and founding member of the Urban Lab collective, when we meet over mint tea. “We are still trying to find ourselves…” Mitra Khoubrou
Mitra Khoubrou, co-founder of Pink Tank and Al Manakh, discusses creative economies in MENA 
Is there enough being done in the GCC to help creative industries develop? I think there is a regulation side of things that needs to be tackled. Creative people operate a lot in grey areas – for example, can you play music outside? It’s not completely clear, so action needs to be taken to establish clear rules, because that can help creative people to know what they can and can’t do and so adapt. There’s a need for more transparency to know what’s possible. Also there should be more support for young entrepreneurs in the creative field. You have initiatives like the Emirates Foundation that are good, but you need more like that.The third element is definitely education, I think it’s not to the level where parents would be proud to have children pursuing creative education or careers. There’s still that taboo. What’s being done right? One thing the region has done very well is the role of the private sector, you have great examples of private companies that have nothing to do with creative industries but which come and support them. Look at the Abraaj Capital Art Prize, I think that’s a very good step that private companies have taken. Is that unique? No, I mean HSBC started with Art Basel, but it’s something that the region has done well. Even though there’s been a crisis, Abraaj continues to do things. I think my main concern is that you need more of an institutionalisation of creative industries: through education, regulation and through direct support from the government for grants. To read the rest of this interview with Mitra Khoubrou, read Issue 22 Ali Omar Ermes
Ali Omar Ermes is Libya’s most famous artist. He tells us about the untapped potential of his country as a hub for the arts. The history of the world lies scattered across Libya’s desert. It is a true crossroads of cultures. From ancient settlements carved directly into rock, through to a procession of colonisers and invaders: Greeks, Persians, Romans, Arabs, Turks, the Italians in WW2 — all have cast their lots and left a mark on this east-Maghreb nation. The country has experienced something of a boom since 2004 when international sanctions were lifted — its oil-rich coasts are being tapped, the arrival of big and flashy hotels in the heart of its capital, Tripoli, and new claims of openness championed by Saif Gaddafi, son of current leader Muammar Gaddafi. It follows, then, that the dense mosaic of history that colours Libya should present fertile ground for a hub of creativity. But, as yet, what creative voices we hear from Libya are inevitably drowned out by the noise of politics. Ali Omar Ermes, undoubtedly Libya’s most famous artist, is an exception to this. Ermes is known for his tactile and organic form of art. Usually taking a single letterform as their central subject, much of Ermes’ works are in a distinctly North African script: “The appeal of the Maghribi script, as it’s known, is that it has not been regulated as much as the rest of the Arabic scripts,” says Ermes. “These were worked on in the Islamic East during the Abbasid or Ottoman and Safavid times, but it still has some of the spontaneity that comes from innovation and a fresh sense of application — the writer has the responsibility to push the boundaries a little wider than the more regulated and restricted scripts…” Lilia Ben Salah
An art scene is rapidly emerging in the suburbs of Tunis. Lilia Ben Salah of Galerie El Marsa talks about this small but dynamic focal point.
Is there a stable market in Tunisia? Of course — it’s a little market, but definitely a market. The gallery opened in 1994 but Tunisia has had a very productive history of art since the beginning of the 20th century, when the French protectorate was established. There has been a rich history of painting in Tunisia and this has evolved into a wide range of contemporary art: photographers, artists who do installations and video art. The scene is constantly growing. Are there a lot of other galleries? Yes, there are several galleries and many openings happening. You have five really established spaces, I would say, and everything is centralised in the northern suburbs of Tunis, around the Carthage area. There’s also the Acropolium there, which is a beautiful Roman-built site that has now opened for exhibitions and performing arts. Do you deal exclusively with North African artists? Exclusively is a strong word but we’re a Tunisian gallery and we’re very engaged with the scene here and across North Africa. North African artists lack visibility, and we’re well located and have the knowhow to provide solutions for them. To read the rest of this interview with Lilia Ben Salah, read Issue 22 Iftar made easy
Harira is the benchmark for any post-fast feast in Morocco. Here, the head chef at Momo Restaurant Familial, arguably London’s most revered North African eatery, gives us his own recipe. “I love the road from Casablanca to Marrakech”, says David Jones, head chef at Momo Restaurant Familial, above the roar of Friday night traffic passing through this busy central London nightspot. “It’s a mini-road trip in itself; the gas stations with people cooking out on the street, and these small cafés serving up fresh asparagus or fish they’ve caught from the river. Then there’s Essaouira, with its sardines and incredible squid.” Though born in Sheffield, England, Jones has built his career on North African food. After stints in Istanbul and following the spice trail across the Maghreb, Jones ended up travelling Morocco; staying in local houses and picking up tips along the way. “When I came back to England, I thought that there’s not many people out there who understand Moroccan food beyond lamb tagine and cous cous. I thought I could really put this food on the map.” Jones met Mourad Mazouz who started Momo and headed up Momo At Selfridges until it closed in 2005. He became the head chef at Momo Restaurant Familial, the main spot near Regent Street, in 2009. “There’s some Mediterranean influence in what we create, as well as Spanish, Greek and flavours from the Levant. But the nucleus is Moroccan food. We have a traditional side of the menu and then chef’s dishes in which we use Moroccan spices and flavours in a fusion way. At the moment we’ve got green tea smoked duck with a date and apple salad. Green tea in Morocco is quite famous, so you add mint and cinnamon. It works.” For Brownbook, Jones selected harira as a good central dish for iftar during Ramadan. “It’s traditional to break the fast with harira,” he explains, “but it’s so popular here that we have it all year round. A lot of customers just come for that. It’s very healthy. It’s good for after fasting as well because there’s lots of pulsas and fresh vegetables in it – so it’s not too heavy and good to cleanse the stomach.” Jones’ team is made up of Moroccan,Algerian and Tunisian chefs. “I learn a lot from these guys,” he says. “I’m quite fascinated by what their mums have taught them – it’s quite a secretive world, in a sense, but they all have these passed down tips to offer. It’s a very generous atmosphere.” |
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