Perched where Africa looks across to Europe, Tangier has always lived on the edge of continents, cultures and imaginations. Eugène Delacroix came in the 1830s and filled his sketchbooks with its colours; a century later Paul Bowles and Tennessee Williams made it their playground, drawing a literary set that gave the city its louche glamour. In the 1960s Christopher Gibbs, the English dealer with a taste for the exotic, created homes there, followed by the legendary Yves Saint Laurent and his partner Pierre Bergé, whose former Villa Mabrouka has been turned by Jasper Conran into a destination hotel an interior insider has described as ‘the jewel in the crown’ of the city.
‘I think that Tangier really drew me to it. Originally I went there to buy a tent, then someone suggested I should see the villa. The upshot is that I bought it. From the first moment I walked in I could imagine what kind of hotel I wanted to make there – an establishment redolent of the French Riviera hotels of the 1920s and 30s.’
For decades Tangier has pulled in an eclectic mix of artists, writers and aristocrats who felt at ease in its blend of faded grandeur, hidden beauty and eccentric ease. It is not a destination for everyone. At first glance the city can seem rough, even scruffy, but those who catch its rhythm – the salt air, the call to prayer, the treasures hidden behind blank Medina walls – remain captivated for life.
No one captured Tangier’s spirit more vividly than Christopher Gibbs. Not long after he arrived he bought a house in the Ourika Valley, which he furnished with his trademark mix of splendour and simplicity, wit and grandeur. For him, Tangier was the perfect setting for such juxtapositions, a city where contrasts found a natural harmony.
Later he shared a house on the Old Mountain with Peter Hinwood, part of which had once belonged to the painters James and Marguerite McBey. Its garden, filled with irises and daturas, had the wild abundance of a painted paradise and suited Gibbs’s eye perfectly. He lived in Tangier for more than half a century until his death in 2018, proof of the loyalty the city inspires in those who fall under its spell.
That same magnetism continues today, as interior designer Veere Greeney acknowledges. ‘The city is inconceivably romantic. Islamic architecture prevails, punctuated by the odd Art Deco building and then at the centre is the Anglican Church of Saint Andrew. This Moorish building was painted by Matisse. Artists and art-lovers, socialites and mavericks, adventurers of every description have long been drawn to the cultural climate in Tangier, coupled with the balmy Mediterranean weather.’
Overlooking infinite waters, Veere has created one of the most magical houses and gardens in the city. ‘My home, Gazebo, is for me the ultimate expression of beauty in the most wonderful location I could ever wish for. Halfway up a mountain in Tangier, it gazes down over a seemingly infinite stretch of brilliant blue, the meeting points of two oceans, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean.’
Veere is not secretive about his unconditional love for this city, where he now increasingly spends his time. ‘Tangier has swum in and out of my life since I first visited in 1973. It took me twenty years to come back but the exoticism, the light, the play of myriad blues and the innate cosmopolitan quality of the place must have rooted themselves in my imagination. The whole place felt artistic, open, and exciting.’
Full-time resident American designer Frank Biasi is equally fascinated by the city’s mystique. ‘I first visited Tangier on spring break from school in Paris, and I was immediately intrigued. The sights and smells, as well as the architecture and history, were so inspiring,’ he says. In 2018, after years of frequent visits with his partner, Gene Meyer, he made the prescient decision to leave New York and move here full-time, a decision they have never regretted.
Tangier’s ancient artisanal traditions, still very much alive and part of the city’s fabric and daily life, inspired them to open a shop devoted to Moroccan crafts, from woodwork and wicker, to hand-embroidered cushions often in uplifting, bold colours. It has since become an unmissable stop for anyone venturing into town. ‘After a few years of sourcing and developing pieces here, we decided it might be interesting to have a shop to promote local craft, and voilà – “Habibi Burton” was born,’ Frank comments. ‘I love meeting people and explaining how we work and how inspiring it is to collaborate with our teams of artisans. Each piece has a story behind it, from the materials to the people who made it. Often two or three artisans are involved, each contributing their skills.’
Decorator Gavin Houghton is another long-time aficionado of the city’s unique atmosphere. ‘Tangier has always attracted creative people. There’s a continuity: the old crowd leave, new ones arrive, but it’s always a gang of people who love beautiful things. You never meet anyone dull here; everyone has a story.’ And both the houses and the lifestyle do not disappoint. ‘Behind the plain walls of the medina are the most extraordinary interiors. The parties are wonderful – lobsters on trays, silver being passed around, and houses that make the perfect stage for it all.’
Twelve years ago Gavin bought La Didar, his charming nest overlooking the old fortified city, the Kasbah, where the sultan lived in the 15th century, which he decorated with an eclectic mix. ‘There are Moroccan touches like tiled fireplaces, but I ship over furniture from England, even brown furniture no one wants, and it looks wonderful here mixed with local pieces.’
Over time, his passion for sketching has unexpectedly turned into a new adventure. ‘I’ve always sketched here, and when friends kept asking to join in it turned into painting holidays. Now we run five a year. They’re very relaxed, not high-level, but a lovely way to see Tangier. I can take people to houses they’d never normally get into, walk them through the Medina, and show them the shops I know. The light is extraordinary – even a bowl of oranges looks more interesting here.’
Ultimately, it is that uncontrived sense of freedom that continues to draw discerning collectors, painters and designers to Tangier. Part European town and part North African port, faded yet dazzling like an unpolished gemstone, it resists neat definition. And perhaps it is precisely that refusal to be just one thing that remains its greatest charm, ensuring that those who fall for it always return.
