This is my favourite photograph taken during the the time I spent in Marrakech.
I wrote, in the caption to accompany this earlier photograph, about the desperate but understandable mercenary behaviour of not just merchants but everyone I met in Marrakech. This man was the exception. Meeting him was one of the most pleasurable and memorable moments of the trip.
There was a small open space, a square, in front of his shop here, and at the other side of it stood a reddish pink building – as they all are in Marrakech – on which the sun was shining. It bathed his shop in a beautiful, pink reflected light, and this is what first caught my eye. I shouted to Kenny and Wing to stop – which is a risky thing to do if you don’t want to be harrassed – but the man didn’t look up from his work and said calmly "have a look, take pictures. Buy or not buy. Looking, taking pictures is free."
It then became clear that the light wasn’t the most beautiful thing about this scene, but the work he was doing. Using a manual lathe, he was carving and shaping pieces of wood into the most beautiful forms in a matter of seconds (pictured below). He used one hand to rotate the wood using a stick and a length of rope, his other hand to control the blade, and one of his feet to support it and keep it in the right place. It was awesome. He introduced himself: Ismael.
We ended up buying a number of souvenirs there: items which we had seen made before our eyes, and which therefore meant much more than any pre-made trinket of which there are a thousand identical ones at any number of the shops in these market streets.
We stood watching and, before long, his young daughter Ranya appeared. She had been at the bakery along the street, and her hands were covered in flour and dough with splashes of red colouring. We gave her one of the small cakes we had bought earlier and her father cleaned her hands and gave her a small table to sit at in front of the shop. As he helped her down, I could see the image coming. I quickly changed my lens to the 14mm and waited for this moment.
Marrakech, 2011.
