It’s easy to forget what a game-changer El Fenn was when it opened two decades ago on the edge of the medina with just six jewel-toned bedrooms, plumes of bougainvillea and a rooftop that felt like a fabulous house party. It stitched itself into the fabric of the Red City and redefined its aesthetic with color-clashing walls and lounges of thickly woven Berber and velvet fabrics, Moorish keyhole archways, and orange trees.
Like the best hotels, it has moved—and expanded—with the times. Co-owner Vanessa Branson, founder of the Marrakech Biennale and a certified Marocophile, has gradually bought up the crumbling neighboring riads to create a wondrous labyrinth of 13 interconnected buildings, 3 pools, and 41 bedrooms in blush pinks, mustards, and acid yellows. Some have zellige tiles, others hand-stitched camel leather floors and carved wooden ceilings, all offset with pop art and bright contemporary installations. Various sun-dappled courtyards lead to a new wood-carved annex, which references traditional Arabic motifs in the latticework and stained-glass windows.
I recently stayed in one of the “cozy” rooms, behind an ornate cedar door. On a hand-plastered traditional tadelakt wall hangs a contemporary dot painting by Moroccan artist Abdelmalek Berhiss, while a timeworn mother-of-pearl iridescent chandelier dangles above the bed. It’s nearly impossible to tell old from new, a result of using local artisans, natural fabrics, and upcycled furniture. The open-air, guest-only Colonnade Café is dotted with olive trees; its modern spiral staircase, which connects the ground-floor boutique with the sprawling spruced-up rooftop, is a monument to Marrakech’s contemporary mood. mood. Yet amid the rooftop’s pool, sunbeds and pops of color, the old magic of Marrakech endures. —Chloe Sachdev
