Haiti’s canvas of resistance: how hand-painted uniforms redefine Olympic debut
In an Olympic landscape often dominated by sleek, sponsor-driven designs in safe palettes of navy and black, Haiti's hand-painted uniforms stood in defiant celebration of Caribbean art and heritage.
When Haiti’s two-athlete delegation marched into the Milano Cortina 2026 opening ceremony, they did more than make a historic debut. They delivered a masterpiece. Against a backdrop of alpine whites and conventional team colours, skiers Richi Viano and Stevenson Savart stood as living canvases, their hand-painted uniforms a defiant celebration of Caribbean art and heritage.
In an Olympic landscape often dominated by sleek, sponsor-driven designs in safe palettes of navy and black, Haiti’s arrival was a riot of symbolic colour. The brainchild of Italian-Haitian designer Stella Jean, these are the only entirely hand-painted uniforms in Olympic history.
Inspired by the work of visionary Haitian artist Edouard Duval-Carrié, Haiti’s Winter Olympics uniforms transformed athletic gear into vibrant storytelling. Lush greens and brilliant blues evoke a tropical landscape, upon which a riderless red horse charges—a symbol born from resilient creativity.
This powerful image emerged from a last-minute act of reinterpretation. Jean’s original design faithfully reproduced Duval-Carrié’s contemporary portrait of Haitian icon Toussaint Louverture – the revolutionary leader who paved the way for Haitian independence. The painting depicted a barefoot, smartly-dressed Louverture astride a red horse, holding a snake—a symbol of the Voodoo spirit Damballa—in place of a sword. For Jean, this image captured the very essence of “the Haitian spirit.”
However, in a jarring blow delivered just one month before the Games, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) flagged the portrait as a violation of rules against “political propaganda” on uniforms.
Faced with what Jean described as “total despair,” and with the clock ticking toward the February 6 ceremony, a radical pivot was necessary. It was then that the designer recalled the wisdom of her Haitian mother: “In moments of challenge, don’t focus on what is missing—look at everything you already have.”
Jean gathered her team of artisans at her studio, and they embarked on a painstaking, round-the-clock mission. They painted over the figure of Louverture himself, but intentionally left his legacy galloping forward. The result is a poignant, riderless red horse charging through an untamed, verdant landscape—a symbol now open to interpretation, but pulsing with silent history.
“We did not erase the spirit of the General,” says Jean. “His absence speaks louder than his presence ever could.”
The resulting garments are breathtaking. For Viano, a structured green jacket pairs with a voluminous, tiered skirt adorned with the scene, finished with a traditional Haitian tignon. Savart’s classic ski suit is transformed with the same vivid motifs. Together, they embody a philosophy far beyond sport.
As Haitian Ambassador to Italy Gandy Thomas noted, “We may not be a winter nation, but we are a nation that refuses to be confined by expectation.”
In an arena often dominated by athletic superpowers, Haiti asserted a different kind of power. Its journey to snow-covered slopes is a triumph of presence. With artistry as their banner, Haiti has ensured that its Olympic debut is unforgettable—a story of resistance painted in bold, beautiful strokes against the snow.
“Haiti has stepped onto the world stage on equal footing,” says Jean, “for in this arena, she is not subordinate to GDP.”