The Bahamian artist is redefining portraiture — and Black women representation at museums like the Art Institute of Chicago — one stitch at a time.

Textile portrait of Black woman in long pink coat by the artist Gio Swaby — Gio Swaby’s textile portraits feature confident Black women, mixed fabrics and loose strings to juxtapose strength with so-called imperfections.

When you think of portraits, a few formats probably spring to mind: painting, photography, life drawing. But textiles?

That’s the medium Gio Swaby is rocking. The Bahamian artist uses textiles to create stunning portraits of powerful Black women.

“Textiles are a great way to connect with people because they’re so familiar.

Everyone has some sort of relationship with textiles, whether it’s through clothing or bedding or whatever. It’s something that we can all relate to on some level.”

— Gio Swaby

Textiles were in part chosen for their familiarity, their approachability. Museum-goers can feel intimidated by fine art paintings, Swaby explains. The average person often thinks that they haven’t learned how to “properly” view a work of art.

But textiles don’t have that baggage. They’re comfortable; they’re part of our everyday lives.

“I think that textiles are a great way to connect with people because they’re so familiar,” Swaby says. “Everyone has some sort of relationship with textiles, whether it’s through clothing or bedding or whatever. It’s something that we can all relate to on some level.”

The *Gylavantin’* series created in 2021

A Love Letter to Black Womanhood

Born in 1991 in Nassau, Bahamas, Swaby grew up with a seamstress mother who taught her how to sew and inspired her artistic vision. She studied art at the University of the Bahamas, Emily Carr University of Art and Design and OCAD University, and now lives and works in Toronto, Ontario in Canada.

Swaby has described her work as a love letter to Blackness and womanhood, a celebration of personal style and identity, and a challenge to the stereotypes and expectations that often limit the representation of Black women in art. Her exhibition Fresh Up, which we saw recently at the Art Institute of Chicago, is her first solo museum show.

With each stitch and thread, Swaby masterfully brings to life the beauty and complexity of Black women in a way that’s both breathtaking and empowering.

*Another Side to Me Second Chapter 3* from 2021

Flipping Embroidery on Its Head

How does Swaby create her portraits? It all starts with a photo session. Swaby meets with her subjects, who are mostly Black women she knows personally or admired from afar, and engages them in a conversation about their lives, their dreams, their struggles and their joys. She then captures them on camera in a moment of self-awareness and empowerment, using natural light and simple backgrounds to highlight their features and expressions. She also impresses upon the subjects that the hairstyle, clothing and jewelry are essential elements of their personal style and identity.

“An important aspect for me is to ask the sitter to choose their own outfit,” Swaby tells us. “I think it’s so important to make that person feel comfortable. I want them to choose what they feel the most beautiful in and what makes them feel the most powerful.”

Going Out Clothes 3 by Gio Swaby, a textile portrait of a young Black woman with pink glasses, yellow sweater and floral pants in oval frame — *Going Out Clothes 3* from 2020

Once an image is chosen, Swaby transfers the images to fabric using a sewing machine. Yes, she actually does it all on a sewing machine! She uses a freehand technique that allows her to improvise and experiment with different colors and textures of thread.

“If I am feeling energized, I’ll start with the face or the hands,” Swaby says. “And if I’m not feeling the vibes, I will start with something that’s a little bit easier. Like if there’s a lot of stripes on the outfit. That’s pretty straightforward.”

Portrait made of textiles by Gio Swaby in the Gylavantin’ series, showiong Black woman with large hoop earrings, floral top, yellow coverup, striped shorts, hand on hip — Detail from the *Gylavantin’* series

She also uses different types of fabric, such as cotton, denim, silk and velvet, to create contrast and depth.

Swaby says that she works intuitively and quickly. “I don’t like to overthink things. I like to just go with what feels right in the moment. What I want to capture is their true essence.”

"Another Side to Me" by Gio Swaby, a portrait of young Black woman sewn with thread with loose threads hanging down — *Another Side to Me 2* from 2020

The final step is to flip the fabric over and present the reverse side of her work. This is where Swaby’s process becomes radical. Instead of hiding the stitching process, she exposes it and celebrates it.

“I wanted to have some moments of surprise, a new appreciation for the irregularities, the loose threads, the places where I lifted up the canvas before moving on to another area,” Swaby says. “I think there is beauty in imperfection. Why not celebrate it?”

Pretty Pretty 7 by Gio Swaby, a sewn portrait of young Black woman wearing skirt and combat boots, with loose strings hanging down — *Pretty Pretty 7* from 2021

She explains that this is a way of honoring the labor and care that goes into each portrait, as well as embracing the vulnerability and humanity of her subjects. It’s a way of challenging the expectations and stereotypes that often limit the representation of Blacks in art. She wants to show them as they are: beautiful but not idealized, complex but not exoticized, powerful but not threatening.

Pretty Pretty 5 by Gio Swaby, a portrait of a young Black woman in overalls and floral work boots, created with sewing machine and showing loose strings — *Pretty Pretty 5*

The first time she displayed the underside of a stitched rendering was with her Another Side to Me series. “As textile-based makers, this is the part of our work that we tend to conceal,” she says. “I’ve always found a kind of beauty in these ‘flaws.’”

10 silhouettes of heads from the New Growth series by Gio Swaby with colorful fabrics as part of the Fresh Up exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago — The *New Growth* series on display at the *Fresh Up* exhibit in Chicago

A Fresh Take on Collaboration for Fresh Up

Swaby’s exhibition Fresh Up is not just a collection of her works, but also a reflection of her vision and involvement. Swaby collaborated with the curators of the Art Institute of Chicago to create a show that showcases her range and diversity as an artist. The exhibition brings together seven of Swaby’s recent series, such as Love Letters and Pretty Pretty, along with approximately 15 new works, including her largest work to date, a commission for the U.S. embassy in Nassau.

An illustrated catalogue includes an interview between Swaby and Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones, as well as essays by the curators and contributions from Swaby herself.

Swaby joined the Art Institute team to stage the show and write the descriptions of the art. At the talk Duke and I attended with our friend, Ivan, the museum’s staff kept gushing about how awesome it was to work with a living artist, to have the opportunity to install an exhibit with the artist’s input.

The feeling was mutual: “Being able to work with the conservation team was one of the most exciting parts about having this exhibition here and being able to be here in person to see how it all works,” Swaby says.

Love Letter 8 by Gio Swaby, a portrait of a confident Black woman in silhouette, with orange floral dress and floral high heeled boots — *Love Letter 8* from 2021

The title of the exhibit, Fresh Up, is a Bahamian phrase used as a way to compliment someone’s style or confidence — elements Swaby wants to highlight in her subjects. It’s a phrase that exudes positivity, joy and self-love.

“Life has so many variations — why not have this moment of representing and being able to celebrate many different kinds of people and also highlight the fact that Black women are not monolithic?” Swaby says. “We are all different, unique individuals.”

Sew true! –Wally

El Museo Textil de Oaxaca is a free attraction — and well worth a quick visit.

Art exhibit with dirt, branches and banners by Cecilia Salcedo at the Textile Museum of Oaxaca — The Textile Museum of Oaxaca showcases contemporary art exhibits, such as *Ephemerus* by Cecilia Salcedo, which was in the upstairs gallery when we visited.

I know plenty of people go gaga for textiles. And while I can certainly admire the craftsmanship of a woven cloth (and have a great fondness for quilts), textile-centric excursions wouldn’t be on our short list.

If the Museo Textil de Oaxaca wasn’t literally in the same building as our hotel (the delightful Casa Antonieta), I don’t know that Duke and I would have popped in.

And that would have been a mistake.

“The museum is housed in a mansion with a green stone façade build by a Spanish merchant.

How did he earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the Museo Textil. ”

Even if textiles aren’t your bag, baby, you should stop by for a brief visit — even just to admire the design of the interior courtyard. A philanthropic venture of the Fundación Alfredo Harp Helú, a private foundation, the museum is open to the public and free to enter. So you really have no excuse not to devote time here.

The stairs and courtyard wall of the Textile Museum of Oaxaca — The museum is small, with a few galleries on the first floor and one upstairs.

A Material World

When we visited, we began on the ground floor, which is set up very much like an art museum — the textiles on the wall could very well be paintings. There are only a few small rooms, and a somewhat haunting nature soundtrack played as we wandered the galleries.

Art hanging from ceiling by two doors at the Textile Museum of Oaxaca — One of the ground-floor galleries

Courtyard of Textile Museum of Oaxaca seen through archway — The striking courtyard of the Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Upstairs, there was only one large room open to the public, and the exhibit when we were there felt a bit interactive.

Ephemerus by Cecilia Salcedo was born of craving nature during pandemic lockdowns. I can remember Duke and I taking walks along Inner Lake Shore Drive in Chicago just to get out of the house when COVID-19 silenced Chicago. The lack of cars and other ambient noise meant we could hear birdsong like never before, and we noticed the buds appearing on the trees we passed every day. In a strange way, it was beautiful, as if the world had forced us to literally pause, listen and observe.

Ephemerus art exhibit by Cecilia Salcedo at the Textile Museum of Oaxaca — Salcedo used branches to hang her cloth prints of leaves — a project born of craving nature during the pandemic lockdown.

Ephemerus art exhibit by Cecilia Salcedo with dirt, branches and banners by open windows at the Textile Museum of Oaxaca — The trees seen through the balcony doors pair nicely with the nature re-creations in the exhibit.

The artist used a technique called ecoprinting, making stamps of leaves on bolts of fabric that are draped from the ceiling like banners. They pair nicely with the actual branches hung above and below, strewn about in piles of dirt and leaves — as well as the leaves in the trees that can be seen through the open balcony doors. I found the space to be very evocative, like entering a magical forest (if you have a good imagination, as I do).

“All fleeting stages, even this pandemic, afford us the opportunity to renew our perspective of the world that surrounds us and, above all else, the role that we play in it,” writes Hector M. Meneses Lozano, the museum director, about the exhibit.

Ecoprinted leaves on cloth — Salcedo used a technique called ecoprinting to leave the impressions of leaves on cloth.

The museum views itself, in part, as a place to showcase contemporary art, and that mission was obvious in this second-floor gallery.

Woman passing facade of el Museo de Textil de Oaxaca — The textile museum is part of a massive building known as the Ex Convento de San Pablo, sharing the space with a boutique hotel and a cultural center.

History of the Ex Convento de San Pablo

The Oaxaca Textile Museum is housed in the same massive edifice as not only Casa Antonieta but the striking Centro Cultural de San Pablo as well.

The site originally housed the Convento de Santo Domingo Soriano. Established in the year 1529, it was the second Dominican foundation in the Americas. Later, the monastery was dedicated to Saint Paul, which explains why it’s now referred to as the Ex Convento de San Pablo.

It seems little if any of the original structure still exists, though. At the beginning of the 17th century, a series of earthquakes caused massive damage, forcing the church to rent and sell off parts of the monastery.

The first structure built on the site of the monastery was a small one-story adobe home — though it was torn down by Spanish merchant Ángel de Antelo y Bermúdez. Don Ángel built a two-story Oaxacan Baroque mansion, with a green stone façade, and the property became known as Casa Antelo.

How did Don Ángel earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the textile museum.