In Majorelle's alleys

Majorelle Garden are a real treat for the eyes, and a true nightmare for photographers. Like everywhere in Morocco, tripod and flashes are forbidden, and you have to make real acrobatics as soon as you try to achieve a decent flower macro. And that because tripods and flash are used only by professionals, not by amateurs. You absolutely must prevent these awful photographers to make the one original photo of Majorelle, the one nobody never made, the one that would be sold for a lot of money, without any profit for Majorelle, because no one never saw it.

That is indeed the first nightmare of Majorelle. How many thousands images of these large yellow pots against the blue walls, and lost in this same blue wall, how many thousand images of the green and pink door ?

Fountains are a little bit less frequent… you have to grab a moment when no body is in the field, and, if you’re very lucky, a bird arriving, all that in the beautiful light and in the right angle.
Because Majorelle is crowded, the whole year, from 8h30 to 18h30, and the moments where it is possible to make a shot without a white silhouette passing in front of the pavilion or the small pond can be counted in seconds between long quarters of an hour waiting, and waiting. That’s the second nightmare in Majorelle.



Today, I made a slightly different image. Actually, it could have been made anywhere, but I really love these two small kittens, with their large blue eyes, of a blue so softer and tender than Jacques Majorelle’s deep hue. Taking no notice of all the people who admired them without daring touch, these small balls of fur where so lovely.

I spent two happy hours in the gardens. To look for a photo is a great pleasure, even when you don’t find it. It helps to look at the world around, circumvolutions of the cacti, colours in the tiles, textures of the large earthenware pots. I enjoyed the points of the succulents against the sunset light, and the shadows of the palms dancing on the ochre walls.

I guessed the departure of the last visitors with the growing silence, fountains could be heard through the whole garden, birds’ chirps filling the space, doves’ cooing mixed with the far-away call to the evening prayer.

I sat on a bank, in a sideway alley, enjoying the coolness of the night, and waiting for the guardian to take me out and close the doors behind me.

We came back walking slowly, palm trees were moving with the flight of the birds, surprised not to be already quiet.

I went out very happy of these two hours spent in the beauty of these gardens, with memories more precious than photos. I love to dream in Majorelle…

More photos of Majorelle.