Tattoos carry different weight from culture to culture. Photographer Giulia Frigieri explores the symbolism of the ancient Berber tradition of facial tattooing.
As it is with so many things in life, multiple meanings are attached to tattoos; they can represent a mark of unity or one of division. In Japan, for instance, tattoos are banned from public saunas and the like due to their link to the underworld; in 1600, criminals were branded to separate them. Meanwhile, in Samoa culture, women are known for their intricate malu ink designs – usually below the knee to the upper thigh – to represent the protection, shelter and security that they provide the community as women.
In Berber culture – an indigenous Northwestern African group – the act of tattooing has long also been a stamp of cultural identity and womanhood: the different etchings symbolising a woman’s marital status, fertility and tribe. Typically, they decorate her face, hands and feet – though some women have been known to cover every inch of their bodies. But it’s a dying act among younger generations. These tattoos are now loaded with stigma and shunned as a sin against God. C’est Haram, as the wider Arabic culture calls it.
It’s this name that photographer Guilia gave to her series that captures the few women still alive today with such markings. Based out in rural Morocco on the High Atlas Mountains, these women now in their 70s had a much different relationship with getting inked to their youngers. To them, C’est Haram it certainly was not.