A new visual project from Moroccan-born, Canada-based artist El Mehdi transforms tea rituals, traditional dress, and Amazigh symbolism into a bold statement on queer identity. His debut EP ‘Salam’ and its accompanying short film ‘El Film’ draw on Moroccan heritage to challenge narratives around culture, sensuality, and self-representation.
A Visual Journey Through Ritual and Symbol
In ‘El Film’, men in white gandouras pour tea from glass to glass inside a Moroccan riad, a gesture familiar to many as a way of cooling the drink. The camera moves past blue and orange tiled walls to a courtyard, where El Mehdi sits on a fountain in a white caftan, holding a polished silver tray. He sings “El kass hlou”, the cup is sweet, as his voice layers into a swelling soundscape over simple percussion.
Another scene places him in a red room, loosely wrapped in black cloth, wearing a tarboush with a long ponytail and dancing with two silver teapots. Back in the courtyard, he collects the men’s empty glasses on his tray, then kneels as hot mint tea is poured into his mouth. “You wanted me in hell,” he says in English, before switching to French and Darija: “I only went to heat the tea.”
Reinterpreting a Censored Classic
The tea motif references “El Kass Hlou”, a 1930s song by Houcine Slaoui. El Mehdi’s research revealed that the original lyrics described a cup of alcohol, though later versions replaced it with tea. “It’s interesting how this has been censored. A song that was written one hundred years ago talked about things that we don’t believe are part of our society now,” he said. “So I decided to reinterpret Slaoui’s version.”
In the visual, El Mehdi’s silver platter is unbreakable, unlike the men’s tea glasses. He uses it to collect and reunite the glasses, a gesture he says rejects individualism. When he speaks while tea is poured into his mouth, he signals that cultural transmission is not passive: he can drink culture and still say what he wants.
Sensuality, Tradition, and Accusations of Orientalism
El Mehdi shows skin both physically in ‘El Film’ and sonically on the EP’s final track. Wearing a platform version of the balgha, the yellow leather slippers, he asserts that it is possible to grow while staying rooted in culture. This interplay of sensuality and tradition has drawn accusations of self-orientalization.
“Once you combine tradition and culture with sensuality, people tend to go to orientalism. But how can we reclaim autonomy over our bodies and sexualities and create more nuanced representations if our expressions are always framed through questions of modesty, religion, or colonialism?” he asked. “If we continue to accept colonialism to guide our self-representation and freedom, when do we actually take back power? Will I never be free to do what I want with my own body because it was once sexualised? Or should I have to abandon cultural symbols that countless Moroccan artists continue to use, simply because they’re assumed to be incompatible with my form of expression?”
Amazigh Roots and Artistic Reconnection
El Mehdi’s path to this project spanned years of work across drawing, sculpting, photography, and acting. “I used to write songs when I was young, but I never had the confidence to sing them,” he said. “Drawing is intimate, but when you sing, you’re heard, and you’re seen.” Once he broke that barrier, his mediums merged: an image becomes a song, a word inspires a video.
The EP’s visuals also reclaim a part of his identity that was not fully passed down. “My dad is Amazigh, but the language and culture were never passed down. I was never able to communicate with my dad’s side because they spoke Shilha and I spoke Darija.” As an adult, he reconnected with his cousins in English and felt a closeness to their culture. “There’s less religion and more connection to nature, to themselves and one another. We were colonized by Europe, but there was also Arab colonization and Islamization before that. It feels like something has been taken away from us because, growing up, Arab culture was seen as superior. It’s only in recent years that this has changed.”
Filming the music video for “Encore,” track four on the EP, was an opportunity for El Mehdi to learn about his heritage. Trapped on the roof of a fortress with immaculate white walls, he is wearing traditional Amazigh jewelry from the Aït Atta tribe he descends from, borrowed from the Pierre Bergé Museum of Berber Arts in Marrakech.
