Dior, Vogue: The Arab Issue series, 2012/1433 © Hassan Hajjaj. Courtesy of the Artist and M.E.P Paris/France

In his latest exhibition, in conjunction with “My Rockstars” at the Yossi Milo Gallery, Hassan Hajjaj’s Vogue: The Arab Issue presents thirty years of fashion photography, in a nod to high fashion of the past. The infamous “September Issue” is taken for a spin, explored through a lens often ignored or commodified by the fabled magazine itself.

On display now at Fotografiska New York, everything in The Arab Issue is a Dr. Seuss-colored, joyous example of saturation turned up to eleven. Developed over three decades, Hajjaj’s work is a candy-colored dreamland, a labor of love meant to bring his home country to the forefront of something beautiful. The Arab Issue embraces Hajjaj’s multidisciplinary roots, clothing models in works of his own design, contrary to the ideals of Western fashion, while also taking advantage of its stereotypes.

Installation view of Hassan Hajjaj “VOGUE: The Arab Issue”. Courtesy Fotografiska New York. Photo: Dario Lasagni

Inspired by Hajjaj’s experience as a stylist’s assistant in the ‘90s, it presents color and artifice pushed to the nth degree, challenging the appropriative practice of high fashion institutions using BIPOC models as props. Morocco is transformed into something out of a fantasy film, no longer a photoshoot backdrop, or the setting of some depressing community aid commercial with Sarah McLachlan playing over it.

Hajjaj replaces the sterile, documentarian photos of the past with representations of joy, of the same brightness and commercialization (in the best way) we are used to seeing in American photography — on billboards, in advertisements, in magazines like the titular Vogue. Niqabs and caftans are rendered high fashion, modesty given color and style through Hajjaj’s own creations. His models are veiled, but express infinite personality — women just as fashionable or creative as a Victoria’s Secret model or a figure picked from a Valentino runway.

“Look at how modern and defiant they are!” Hajjaj says of his models. “They blend tradition with pop fashion, and I find them so strong, so powerful, and totally gorgeous.”

His influences are as numerous as his colors, proving his title of “the Andy Warhol of Marrakesh” as well-earned — colonialist ideas of fashion turned on their head, replaced by pop art reminiscent of his time in London’s club scene. His models stand proudly in front of Chanel stores, or pose like they belong on album covers, and the artifice of the photos’ borders bring even more color into the mix, surrounding models with the edges of bright blue prayers rug, or yellow and green tins one would see in the markets of the Medina, where many of the series’ photos were shot. There is a constructed nature to them, a lack of concern for what is traditional, replaced by a bursting passion for what is beautiful.

The Arab Issue is a parody, but also a love letter. It is alive, in a way, with a rhythm brought on by color and personality and the desire to prove Hajjaj’s subjects can be something more. It hands ideas of identity politics and tradition to its audience in a cute, ribbon-tied box, a jack-in-the-box of representation disguised by polychrome wrapping paper.