Amy Sherald’s “American Sublime” at SFMOMA: A Bold Celebration of Black Life

There was something about stepping into a room filled with Amy Sherald’s work that felt almost transformative. The first painting I gravitated toward in American Sublime at the SFMOMA was the commanding portrait of Michelle Obama. Her grayscale face was thoughtful, almost pensive, the power of her presence undeniable.

Sherald’s American Sublime, the first major survey of her career, brought together nearly 50 pieces from 2007 to the present. It weaves through Sherald’s evolution from early portraits to her more recent, incisive figure paintings, all which settle into everyday moments of Black life. Black faces in grayscale paired with poetic titles held messages wound tightly around a hard nugget of truth about racism and classism in the American landscape. It’s a much-needed antidote to the fear-inducing headlines of the day, offering a profound, visual counterpoint to the noise.

One of the most striking elements of Sherald’s work was her ability to bring everyday Black experiences into the art world. A place where they have often been overlooked. Whether through portraits of strangers or carefully staged figures, Sherald captured her subjects in moments of quiet beauty, making them not just seen, but understood.

Take, for example, her large-scale painting For Love, and for Country (2022). The work reimagined Alfred Eisenstaedt’s iconic 1945 photograph V-J Day in Times Square, where a sailor kissed a woman in celebration of the end of World War II. Here Sherald flipped the script. In her version, two Black male sailors shared the kiss. A nod both to the under appreciated contributions of Black soldiers in the war and to the ongoing struggles of the LGBTQ+ community. The moment was jarring in its defiance. Definitely a challenge to the historical exclusion of Black and queer identities from the narrative of American triumph.

The emotional weight of the exhibition didn’t stop there. Sherald’s use of color —grayscale tones for the skin of her subjects paired with vibrantly colored clothing, creating figures that pulsed with life. Each subject felt like they stood in before us in full, unapologetic presence. She brought out the sublime in both beauty and persistence.

The title American Sublime pointed to the perseverance that Black people continue to practice despite systemic oppression. Sherald herself explained that the title was inspired by a collection of poetry by Elizabeth Alexander. A body of work that explored the absence of Black figures in America. For Sherald, the “sublime” was found in the resilience of Black life, in the transcendence that emerges from hardship. 

Another work that affected me was Trans Forming Liberty, a piece which speaks to Sherald’s deep engagement with identity. The portrait, inspired by the transition of a transgender friend, shows a model holding a paper towel roll as though it were the Statue of Liberty’s torch. An image that challenged the notion of liberty as something reserved for a select few, the work gave more meaning the more I sat with it.

But perhaps the most emotionally resonant piece in the show was one that I saved for last: Breonna Taylor(2020). Sherald captured Taylor, who was tragically murdered in 2020 by police officers. Taylor stood dressed in a soft blue gown, with a quiet expression that invited you into her world. Sherald’s decision to portray Taylor as she might have looked on an ordinary day, instead of an icon of grief and injustice, created a profound sense of loss. It’s a powerful counterpoint to the often sensationalized and reductive portrayals of Black victims of violence. In this portrait, Sherald honored Taylor’s life, not her death. It reminded us that the people taken from us by violence were once simply people, living their lives.

The quiet strength of Sherald’s portrayal of Taylor is a perfect encapsulation of what makes American Sublime such a deeply emotional experience. She gave us narratives, invitations to see the world through different eyes.

And in the quiet of the gallery, standing in front of Taylor’s portrait, I whispered her name. Breonna Taylor—a reminder that art, at its best, can hold space for grief, healing, and the relentless pursuit of justice.

American Sublime is on at SF MOMA until March 9, 2025. For tickets visit their website.