In Hold Me Close, Bisa Butler presents a powerful new series of quilted portraits that speak to the urgency of empathy, the weight of history, and the need for tenderness in times of crisis. This is the artist’s statement:
This body of work is a visual response to how I am feeling as an African American woman living in 2025. We lived through COVID and witnessed the uprising of the Black Lives Matter movement, only to arrive at a time when many of the civil rights I grew up with are being challenged and reversed. Protections and programs for non-white Americans, women, queer people, poor people, and people with disabilities are under attack, and it has left me feeling destabilized. Watching immigrants being hunted, chased down, and kidnapped by masked men horrifies me. The thought of people being gunned down and starved for political agendas is the stuff of nightmares. I’ve been looking for solace and turned to my work like a visual diary.
In times of crisis, we need each other more than ever. A kind word, a sympathetic ear, and an offer of help make us feel more human. I’m calling this series Hold Me Close because that’s what I need—and what I believe we all need. We need more humanity and empathy.
A particular song has been running through my head as I work: La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong:
Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose
When you kiss me, heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose
When you press me to your heart
I’m in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
And when you speak, angels sing from above
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rose
On a very personal level, an artist who was one of my greatest inspirations—Faith Ringgold—passed away last year. Her work and life story made me feel that I could succeed in the art world. I’ve been reading her memoir, catalogs, and essays, trying to soak up as much of her guidance as I can. One aspect of her work that has profoundly moved me is her Black Light series (1967-69). In that series, she painted her canvases black and used vibrant colors on top. Faith challenged the art world standard that a blank canvas must first be painted white. She taught herself to be a master of light and color by starting with a deep black canvas—and I wanted to do the same.
I’m also a great admirer of Kerry James Marshall. In one of his essays, he wrote about wanting to create a new color wheel composed of shades of black—not shying away from the color, but embracing it as representative of both a people and a philosophy. A visual language that asserts: Black is beautiful. Marshall embraced the color black and all its many shades in ways I had never seen before.
Most of the works in this series have a base of jet black cotton or black velvet, with other colors and textures layered on top. Using a dark base pushed me to incorporate more fabrics with shimmer and reflective qualities. I used more three-dimensional textures—beads, rhinestones, and sequins—to create the illusion of depth.
This collection is my visual declaration that we need love over hate. Aesthetically, you’ll see people leaning on one another, sharing moments, captured in gestures of tenderness. These quilts are also an homage to the giants in my artistic development—the late Faith Ringgold and the ever-brilliant Kerry James Marshall.
