Amy Sherald the Artist
Amy Sherald begins each day with a ritual: searching the night sky for the moon. “It helps me keep things in perspective,” she says, a way to remember she is just one part of a vast universe. This grounding practice mirrors the ethos of her portraiture—rooted in presence, reflection, and connection to something larger. Dressed in her self-described “uniform” of a crisp white blouse and oversized glasses, Sherald calls from a sunlit gallery, embodying the meticulous, intentional spirit of her artistry.
Sherald rose to prominence in 2018 when her portrait of First Lady Michelle Obama was unveiled at the National Portrait Gallery. The painting—Obama poised, serene, and proud against a soft blue background—immediately captivated the public. It offered a vision of Black womanhood that was powerful yet gentle, rooted in autonomy and dignity. The portrait became a cultural moment, breaking through an era overwhelmed by digital imagery to deliver something timeless and true.
Her work continues to resist the noise of modern media and the superficiality of AI-generated images. Sherald’s paintings offer a quiet resistance—scenes of leisure, grace, and repose that center Black Americans. In a world of violence and visual clutter, her portraits provide moments of calm and authenticity, each rendered in her signature pacific blue and striking figuration.
This was especially evident in her 2020 portrait of Breonna Taylor, painted for Vanity Fair under the guest editorship of Ta-Nehisi Coates. Amid a maelstrom of headlines and hashtags, Sherald’s painting restores Taylor’s humanity, portraying her not as a symbol, but as a full person. The expansive blue behind Taylor evokes a spiritual space—one long imagined in Black American music and poetry, where justice, peace, and dignity live.
Though raised Christian, Sherald says she is no longer religious, but views art as a spiritual force. “Art takes us back to the spirit which takes us back to our humanity,” she says. For her, creativity offers stillness in chaotic times—a place to “just be.” Her approach to painting is slow, deliberate, almost meditative, setting her apart in a fast-paced, reaction-driven culture.
Sherald paints exclusively Black subjects and uses grisaille—a technique involving black-and-white underpainting—which gives her figures a timeless quality, like they’ve stepped out of family albums or archival footage. Her friend and fellow artist Rashid Johnson praises her curiosity and vulnerability, while Thelma Golden of the Studio Museum in Harlem calls her work both deeply intimate and universally resonant.
Born in 1973 in Columbus, Georgia, Sherald navigated predominantly white institutions before attending Clark Atlanta University, a historically Black college. Early in her career, she used literal costumes to explore how she wanted to represent Black identity. She studied for decades and worked in service jobs well into adulthood, dedicating herself to her craft until her breakthrough arrived in her forties. Today, she lives and works in New York, maintaining close friendships with fellow artists like Deborah Roberts, who also experienced late success. Their bond provides creative support and emotional safety in an often isolating industry.
This November, Sherald’s first major museum survey, Amy Sherald: American Sublime, will debut at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Among the featured works is For Love, and for Country, a romantic portrait of two Black sailors kissing, echoing the iconic WWII Times Square photo but reimagined as a queer love story. It’s a vision of a freer, more inclusive nation. “I like to know that I’m in the canon,” Sherald says, “but other than that, I come in my space and I go inside and I make what’s important to me.”
