Today is the day I have long awaited. The guide has arranged a zellij workshop at Cooperative Artisanale El Badia des Zelligeurs. Adib arranges a meeting place near the square with a pretty young college student who will serve as my guide and translator. We walk a short distance from the square to the Cooperative where I am introduced to a man, the maallem (master), who will be my instructor.
I learn that the maallem has been practicing his art since 1982; that he has spent eight hours a day, five days a week, for the last thirty-four years of his life perfecting the art of zellij. He first instructs me in making the outlines that will be used as cutting guides to form the tiny geometric shapes. We sit awkwardly on the floor, shoes removed; not cross-legged, but skew-legged. This means that both legs are bent beneath our bottoms and pointed in the same direction. The first five minutes of this pose are nearly excruciating; maallem and the young woman ease the pain by inserting tiles and pillows beneath my feet and legs in various places. It helps, but only marginally. I gaze longingly at the many chairs scattered about the studio.
We begin with a 4" X 4" Moroccan tile. I am handed a smaller star-shaped tile and instructed to outline it several times on the larger tile. The marks are made in a tiny sweeping motion using a small stick. The stick is concave, like a nib, and is able to hold a small amount of the whitish fluid that rests in a small cup. We use the whitish fluid to mark the darker tiles. For the lighter tiles, we use a blackish fluid.
It isn't easy to get the hang of this, but after many tries I understand how to hold the tiny stick and how to flick my wrist to make the marks. Maallem assures me I am doing well, and the translator says that many people are never able to master this step. Secretly, I wish I had brought a magic marker. I continue to outline the small star until several tiles are covered with my marks. Maallem explains that I am ready to begin cutting.
I observe him from behind; he uses a hammer and hardie similar to the one I have in my own studio. The difference? --- the hardie is positioned at an angle facing the zelligeur, and the hammer is narrowed at the cutting surface to add precision. We will first learn to make a simple cut. The tile edge is positioned on the hardie as the zelligeur taps the hammer in small motions while moving the tile across the hardie. It is important that the butt of the hammer rests on the right knee of the maallem to ensure a consistent arc of motion. I soon realize the purpose of this cutting is to score the enameled surface of the tile. As the final edge of the tile is reached, maallem swings the hammer with slightly greater force and the tile snaps neatly in two.
Now it is my turn. Barefooted, I position myself skew-legged before the hardie. Tiles and pillows are stacked beneath my legs to optimize my position and comfort. I begin the tiny hammering motions and, before long, am able to make rough-looking straight cuts. However, I realize that this isn't nearly as fun as I had dreamed. This is hard work! The intensive course I took in Ravenna was a fun challenge, and I felt quickly proficient in the cutting and setting methods. I could see that proficiency in zellij is likely only after painstaking weeks, months, or years of practice.
The call to prayer begins, and my instructor and a second maallem exit the studio abruptly. I am left with the translator, many uncut tiles, and very sore legs. Ironically, a one-legged man hobbles into the room briefly to check on something. Could this be my fate?
It is clear that cutting squares is not the ultimate goal. It is suggested that I work on cutting the tiny star shapes. With great difficulty, I cut the 24-sided star from a beautiful green tile.
Maallem returns, and I learn that an additional step will be needed to complete the tiny tessera. Because the pieces must fit together without so much as a single grout line, we need to miter the back edges. This requires placing the tiny piece at an angle against the hardie, colored-side up, then using the hammer to chip away at the red clay tile without disturbing the enamel. With difficulty, I manage to miter the back of a few squares; however, I never quite get the hang of things well enough to miter the star shapes. The second maallem is kind and offers to miter my little green star. With great ease he finishes it, then both maallem reach to supply me with tiny arrow-shaped pieces that can be combined with my star and squares to form a small mosaic. A very small mosaic.
Around that time, it is announced that we should finish our lesson. I-pad in hand, I share photos of my own glass mosaics with maallem. Through the translator, he asks how I can possibly make such a thing when all the shapes are different? He is interested and surprised, and asks that we have our photo made together. I feel thankful, fortunate, and happy in the presence of the maallem.
