The Aura & Allure of Tamegroute Pottery
The beautiful green pottery of Tamegroute is bursting with aura, defined by its authenticity, anchored in tradition and shaped by its remote location and rich mineral earth.
Arrival
It was the last day of August and the CTM bus slowed to a stop in the village of Tamegroute. Even though the sun had set, and the air was thick and hazy with disturbed dust, I could make out the silhouettes of hundreds of ceramic vessels lining the front of the building where I disembarked.
I had begun my journey ten hours earlier, leaving Marrakesh with a bus ticket, the name of the Aabi family where I would lodge during my stay, and instructions to tell the bus driver to stop “across from the chateau d’eau,” the village’s water tower, it turns out. To reach Tamegroute the coach travelled 260 miles southeast along an often-winding two lane roadway, passing alongside small villages and wide-open, barren landscapes. At one point the road crossed the Atlas Mountains, a 1600-mile east-west range that separates the Mediterranean and Atlantic Ocean from the Sahara Desert and extends across Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia.
At first glimpse, Tamegroute looked like other small villages where the bus stopped to take on additional passengers throughout the day. I made my way through the pottery storefront, and up the stairs to the Aabi home. In the dim light from the second floor terrace, I took in the view of the water cistern across the street, the tallest structure amid low buildings made of earth, and could hear night sounds of donkeys braying and families preparing for sleep.
How did I wind up 4000 miles from my home in Philadelphia in Tamegroute, Morocco on the edge of the Sahara Desert? I had come to this village to learn how pottery was made in another age –without modern conveniences close at hand. Throughout the previous spring, I had been scouring the internet for “authentic” hands-on ceramic workshops where I could immerse myself in all the traditional aspects of pottery fabrication. Most international workshops were only a day or two long, geared toward tourists or beginners. More lengthy programs, all of which included a hefty price tag, seemed aimed at established Western artists, often with an exhibition as the end goal. I was seeking something completely hands-on and experiential.
My googling led me to a French organization, Aliore Worldwide Workshops, which seemed to fit the bill for offering individualized, local-focused workshops run by and for the benefit of on-the-ground artisans. I emailed Aliore and received an informational PDF; costs were based upon length of stay. I sent in my deposit, then set about preparing for the trip.
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For the sake of this article, I’ll use the endonym Amazigh (plural Imazighen) when referring to the indigenous people of North Africa who predate Arab migration to the Maghreb. The Imazighen are composed of many distinct ethnic groups, but the most prevalent group in Tamegroute is the Tuareg.
Tamegroute
Tamegroute is a world away from the popular Moroccan tourist destinations like Casablanca, Fes and Tangier. It has a population of about 6,000 and is best known for the legacy of its quranic library and school, the Zawiya Naciria, and for its distinctive green pottery. You can read more about the history of the region, the local Amazigh population and the significance of trade caravans in my earlier blog post.
The economy in Tamegroute is largely fueled by the pottery industry, enabling families of the village to make a living and carry on the artistic traditions across generations.
For the duration of my apprenticeship, I stayed with the family of Tarik Aabi, who is connected to Tamegroute pottery via his maternal grandfather. In addition, together with his father, Tarik founded Travel Tamegroute, a tour company offering excursions in southern Morocco led by local guides. He organizes everything from caravan treks across the desert, to tent stays nestled among the dunes of Tinfou.
Tarik isn’t an artist himself, but his late grandfather Moha Dani was a descendant of one of the seven families that migrated to Tamegroute from Fes in the mid-1600s, bringing the city’s distinctive green pottery with them. My instructor was Tarik’s uncle, Ismaail, one of Moha’s sons.
Pottery-making is a male enterprise. Instruction essentially begins at birth for sons of the original seven families. They learn the technique and trade from their fathers, who learned it from their fathers. Tamegroute pottery-making methods have literally passed through the hands of craftsmen across generations.
View of Tamegroute ksour from the Aabi roof with smoke from kilns in the distance
Tamegroute is one of many ksour, fortified villages (also known as igherm in Amazigh) nestled along the Draa river valley in southeastern Morocco. The core of a ksour is often a kasbah (tighremt in Amazigh), a central courtyard surrounded by walls and defensive towers made of rammed earth and mudbrick. You must walk a labyrinth of dark passageways to reach the central Kasbah of Tamegroute.
The language in Tamegroute is a mixture of Moroccan Arabic (Darija) and Amazigh dialects. Tarik spoke English because of his tour business. Ismaail and some other residents spoke French. I communicated mainly in French, thanks to many years of college French classes and a semester in Paris a decade ago. I love learning languages and did my best to pick up words and phrases in Amazigh and Darija. I spoke with my host sisters, Seluah and Imane, mostly through silly charades and Google translate, and it was amazing to connect with these two women despite the language barrier.
Morning view from my bed on the roof
Daytime temperatures in early September ranged from 100 to 105 degrees Fahrenheit. It is standard practice to sleep on the roof at night to enjoy the cooler temperatures and stellar stargazing. Working outdoors during the day, I consumed gallons of water just to stay hydrated.
The region had been experiencing an extended drought. Years without significant rain produced a parched and dry-dust landscape. I’m not saying I’m a good luck charm but… it just so happened that a huge rainstorm rolled in during my time in the village. The downpour flooded roads, caused some damage to properties and drove all travel to a standstill. The villagers were overjoyed nonetheless and gathered on the muddy streets to celebrate the deluge that provided much needed respite to the thirsty date palm groves surrounding Tamegroute—groves essential to the success of the pottery-making enterprise.
Process
The Draa River is the longest waterway in Morocco, and it supplies Tamegroute with mineral rich earth from its fertile valley. Clay is extracted from holes up to 30 feet deep that are dug along the banks of the river. This raw clay is then mixed with water, lightly sieved and the liquid clay is left to dry in the sun until it reaches a usable consistency.
Once it is dry enough to handle, potters scoop the pliable clay onto mats and begin the wedging process. Shoes off, the clay is massaged underfoot to remove air bubbles, with sand added as needed. Then it is broken into manageable chunks and wedged by hand until it is fit for the wheel.
Every pottery studio in the family collective is equipped with a subterranean kick wheel. It’s essentially a hole in the floor, and it allows artists to work at ground level.
To work the wheel I am again barefoot- partly because it is too hot for shoes, and partly for dexterity. I perch my left foot on a stabilizing bar below the ground, while my right provides the turning momentum by kicking the heavy, spinning disk attached to the wheel’s axel. The heavy disk stores the kinetic energy from my kicks, which allows the wheel to maintain a steady speed without having a constant stream of energy as with my electric wheel at home. Applying pressure with my hands on clay at the wheelhead, while controlling speed with my foot, took some getting used to.
Throwing pots under these conditions was strenuous and not without injury. I gained a serious appreciation for the kick wheel during my time in Tamegroute—it kicked back at me the first two days and I have the scars to prove it. The Tamegroute potters made it look easy. For me, it took concentration and persistence to adjust to this unfamiliar throwing method.
The craftsmen of Tamegroute make various everyday objects, such as tagine dishes, plates, bowls and cups. But it’s the more decorative objects, like ornate candelabras incorporating Amazigh symbolism, that are some of the most popular works found in international design houses and featured on the pages of glossy magazines.
I finally started to get the hang of the kick wheel once I focused on a singular form to recreate. I zeroed in on the tall and elegant two-tiered candelabra and channeled my energies into making a passable recreation.
Once leatherhard and trimmed, finished pieces are left to dry in the sun for three days. This clay is much heartier than other clay bodies I’ve used before. It feels almost, not quite, bisqued after three days in the hot sun.
Artisans from Fes brought the signature green glaze to this region in the 1600s. Tamegroute artisans perfected it over the centuries. Its composition is a closely held secret. Locally mined manganese and copper combine with silica to create the base recipe. I visited the souk (weekly Saturday market) with my instructor Ismaail to purchase some of the raw minerals, but I was never let in on the actual recipes.
As many as three times a week, sun-dried works are fired in traditional wood kilns. Pieces are tumble stacked, with homemade stilts separating stacks of bowls and plates, which leave distinctive scars on the surface of finished items. Loading the kiln is an art form in itself, and it can take most of the day to carefully fill the kiln with up to 800 pieces. Once loaded, potters erect a door out of stones and seal it with mud to keep out oxygen during the firing.
There was not a pyrometer in sight during the firing process, part of the traditional practice passed down from earlier generations. The kiln was fueled with a steady supply of dried date palm wood and fronds, as well as desert grasses and sawdust. These combustibles produce thick and pungent plumes of black smoke that billow over the village throughout the firing. Firings are usually of short duration—five to six hours three times per week.
Dried palm leaves stacked and ready to fuel the kilns
The traditional firing method assures that each piece is entirely unique, its placement in the kiln tells a story and results in striking, uneven coloring. After a night of cooling, the pots with their beautiful, slightly irregular green color are ready for distribution and sale.
The results are a study of the color green. You can find a range of shades from deep olive or streaked pine, to brighter hues of sage, viridian and jade. There are ceramics the color of avocado, pistachio, honeydew melon, asparagus and lime. There is bamboo, moss, thyme, myrtle and sea green.
A cooled kiln following a firing with green pottery peeking through
Why green? Was the choice aesthetic, convenient or something more nuanced?
It’s well-recorded that green is a sacred color in Islam, symbolizing purity, paradise and prosperity. Perhaps it is as simple as using the raw materials at hand—the color is born in the alchemy of palm bark fire, mineral-rich earth and a blend of manganese, copper, marl and sand. Whatever the reason, green feels apt to embody this outpost town, the last stop before the unrelenting brown sand of the Sahara.
As a final step in the process, finished pots are loaded into carts pulled by donkeys and distributed to shops in town, where many are carefully packaged to travel to Marrakesh, Fes or abroad. The Aabi’s storefront takes a low commission on pottery sales, 95% of the profits go directly to the artists who produce the works.
Aura
To do justice to Tamegroute pottery, I must conclude by commenting on its aura. Walter Benjamin, the early twentieth century German philosopher, coined the term “aura” to describe the uniqueness and authenticity of a work of art in his 1935 essay of cultural criticism, The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. He argues that mechanical reproduction devalues an object’s aura, because the unique aesthetic DNA of an artwork cannot exist in a mechanically produced copy. “Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be.”
To me, this is the essence of Tamegroute pottery—bursting with aura, defined by its authenticity, anchored in tradition and shaped by its remote location and rich mineral earth.
It was a privilege to work alongside the potters of Tamegroute. I am very grateful to the Aabi/ Dani family and especially want to thank Ismaail for his patient lessons, Tarik for his warmth and humor, and Seluah and Imane for ensuring I was well fed and fostering a sense of sisterhood that I’ll keep with me forever.
