“When it comes to art, I’ve always followed my intuition,” Yasmine Berrada tells the Observer. We are at the Loft Gallery in Casablanca, surrounded by the abstract, geometric and seaweed works of Malika Agueznay, a master painter of the famous Casablanca school. “I feel that the art world is very emotional; so you have to put your heart into it fully.” And Berrada certainly does. When we meet her, she cuts a slim and elegant figure, dressed in white, having just returned from a busy week in Doha at Art Basel Qatar, where she exhibited the glittering work of Mustapha Azeroual in a gallery space.
In Casablanca, it’s like the calm after the storm, and the gallerist feels dizzy as we walk through the room of works by Moroccan artist Malika Agueznay, which reminds us of the concentrated quality of Yayoi Kusama’s installations. We sit down at the back of the gallery, and Berrada orders a mint tea. He founded the Loft Gallery in 2009 with his sister Myriem, basing it on the idea of a loft full of New York-style art. From day one, the gallery represents something new in Morocco; since then it has expanded to three floors in Marrakech.
According to Berrada, the Moroccan art market was very contained at that time. “There were many art dealers, but very few galleries that did systematic, long-term work. It was a very local market. Moroccans only bought Moroccan art and were not interested in international works. And foreigners did not collect much Moroccan art. And there was a lot of imitation; people always collected the same artists.”
Loft’s main aim was to restore the history of Moroccan modernism, especially the Casablanca School and the post-protectorate abstract movement. In collaboration with artists such as Melehi and Belkahia, Berrada supported exhibitions and released books. Over time, the gallery focused more on contemporary artists and began connecting them with international collectors.
“You have to believe in the artists,” said Berrada. “Usually you start with an emerging artist, you don’t sell anything in the first two years, people ask why you persisted, and then suddenly, after two or three years, the work starts selling really well. You have to have confidence. If we don’t put that energy into the artists, no one else will.”
With Loft, Berrada has cultivated a wide range of clients who don’t just buy the occasional piece of Moroccan art, choosing to think critically about the legacy of artists and movements. Others lend themselves to biennials, supporting museum programs or establishing foundations.
The gallery’s participation in international exhibitions such as Art Basel Paris, Art Basel Doha, Art Dubai and the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair has helped Moroccan artists to be placed on the world stage. At the same time, Marrakech has grown into a cultural center connecting Europe, the Middle East and Africa. “The countries of the Global South are waking up,” Berrada asserted. “There is institutional power, there is investment. The community I met in London and New York, now I meet in the Gulf.”
Although the future of the Gulf art ecosystem is currently uncertain, last month, Berrada made a big bet at Art Basel Qatar—The Loft was the only gallery from Morocco at the fair. The weight of representation of the Moroccan art scene is real, and it did not stop at the much-anticipated event at the beginning of 2026. As one of the most important contemporary art centers in Morocco, he felt compelled to multiply his presence during the art week of Marrakech, coinciding with the 1-54 African Art Fair, organizing the city of Ardeach’s Loft Garakeover the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, presenting an extended program of exhibitions, site-specific installations and city-wide interventions in Marrakech, from rids to museums, places public and Loft in Marrakech.
Berrada, like many dealers, is also a collector and an intuitive. Collecting has always been his personal passion: a record of interactions, friendships and discoveries. From modernists like Melehi and Belkahia to contemporary artists like Lamrabat, Choumali and Kilito, the works in his house speak not only of his preferences but also of the ongoing story of Moroccan and African art.
Yasmine’s collecting journey started in childhood. “All my life, I watched my father collect art, I couldn’t understand why he bought so many paintings,” he explained. I always felt that he kept buying and buying as if he wanted to satisfy some kind of subconscious need. I think I’m a lot like him in that way.” However, their hobbies and interests are different. “He collected a lot of Orientalist painters like Hassan El Glaoui, while I’m very close to the modernist point of view. But we are both guided by love. We collect what we like, and it is very difficult for us to sell work. Our main goal has never been the concept of resale or investment.”
That was the path that led him, as a young property manager, to his first art project. He became a full-time artist after the birth of his first son: “I bought a piece of art by a local artist,” he says. “And from there I ended up collecting naturally and physically.” Today, Berrada’s home displays pieces from his collection, spanning generations and media. Alongside the masters of the Casablanca school, he surrounds himself with contemporary voices such as Joana Choumali, M’hammed Kilito, Nassim Azarzar, Samy Snoussi and Bouchra Boudoua. He says: “For me, these paintings are like family jewels. “But these works are part of our daily life.” They often eat, for example, at a table made by Mohamed Melehi.
The family often exchanges works of art instead of physical gifts. “Recently, I received from my husband a beautiful piece of pottery by Moroccan Farid Belkahia,” said Berrada. “I started a tradition with my children, giving myself the works of Fares Thabet, Amina Rezki, Melehi and Mous Lamrabat. It is a way to sharpen sensitivity and convey a set of values and appreciate beauty and culture.” One of his favorite works is Lamrabat’s “man in blue” profile, which creates images of an imagined African reality, set between the Arab and African futures and the movie Avatar.
From Melehi’s wavy, colorful quotes to Belkahia’s classic brown shape, everything in her home is tied to a memory or story, whether it’s a studio visit, a first encounter or a conversation with an artist or friend. He can often be found visiting artists’ studios and often takes at least one client with him—sometimes paying more than he would later charge if he decided to represent the artist professionally. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “For me, collecting is an important part of showing trust in the artist and genuine interest, and building relationships.”
It is only in recent years that Berrada has begun to think about his collection as a whole; his aim is to organize, catalog and archive while preserving the resonance of personal sounds that make them meaningful. “Lately, I realize that I can identify certain themes,” he revealed. “And I’m starting to buy pieces that I feel are missing—for example, figurative paintings—to balance the value of abstract pieces.” The figurative painting he pointed to shows a black woman dancing in a red dress on a corner of the city, not facing the viewer directly. The mysterious image is exciting and scary at the same time, it conveys a feeling of nostalgia, like a “saudade” of sorts.
His dual roles—gallerist and collector—inevitably overlap, but this creates a healthy tension between spontaneity and structure. “In the gallery, I do very organized work, where there is strategy, research, and a long-term vision. For my collection, it’s very spontaneous; I buy when I like a piece.” Of course, there are times when his approach is overwhelming. “I hope to meet. When I meet an artist, I take my time to understand him, to listen, and to see what story I can tell about all this. I like to tell stories. And little by little, the stories come together and make a big collection. He can live more than us.”
Many discussions of art collectors
