[Reportage to be found in the winter issue of the têtu· magazine, available at your newsstands or delivered to you by subscription.] Laureate of the têtu· LGBTQI+ Memory Award 2025, the Friends of the Patchwork of Names association gathers in workshops where young and old restore fabric squares in tribute to those who died of AIDS.
Photographies: Lucie Cipolla for têtu·
At the start of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, the people swept away by the illness could often not receive funerals, due to stigma and precarity, and also because of the prohibition on funeral rites for the bodies of people living with HIV — in force in France for more than thirty years, this prohibition would be lifted only on January 1, 2018. Consequently, the dead were often cremated or placed in the common grave, depriving their loved ones of a place for mourning. To fill this gap, the gay community in San Francisco began, as early as 1985, to organize torchlight retreats during which placards bearing the names of the deceased were stuck to the walls.
This tangible, yet temporary, celebration of their memory took the form of a sort of patchwork of multicolored papers. Thus germinated the idea of designing fabric pieces, the size of a tombstone, embroidered with the name of the deceased, and assembling them to create a patchwork, a quilt, serving as a physical medium for community commemoration. The ritual developed within the American gay community and gave birth to the Names Project AIDS Memorial Quilt, which first displayed the patchwork in 1987 on the National Mall in Washington. A powerful and symbolic moment to commemorate but also to alert.
Memory Work
Two years later, the initiative was taken up in France with the creation of the association Le Patchwork des noms by Jacques Hébert, Philippe Johnson, Jacques Robert and Claude Vinueza. Today, it is the Friends of the Patchwork of Names who carry on this work of memory by participating in numerous HIV-related events, while ensuring the preservation of the patchworks through collaborative workshops. Since 2023, twice a month, the members of the association, and anyone who wishes to help, meet at the Palais de Tokyo, in Paris, for workshops aimed at assessing the state of the fabric squares and restoring those in need.
“Guy, 34 years old, 29 November 1984”… On the colorful patterns, the names, ages, and dates of death tell of a youth snatched by AIDS. In the museum hall where people are active, the atmosphere is studious and one often hears only the sound of scissors and fabric rustle. A student at the decorative arts and sewing expert, Rémi, 25 years old, shares his skills for the first time by tackling the sewing machine. His task is to continue the work begun by another volunteer. At the machine’s pedal, he restarts a square measuring 360 cm on each side. Meanwhile, Evan, 28, who joined the association a year ago, guides the others in “envelope sewing,” i.e., repairing the seam that fixes the laminated photo of the deceased to the fabric.

During these biweekly appointments, they renovate and resew, but they also form new friendships while cultivating collective memory. These community workshops weave bonds between the living and the dead, as well as between the young and those who lived through the dark years of the epidemic. “In face of increasingly atomized communities, there is something cathartic about coming together and repairing”, analyzes Pascal, 62 years old, coordinator of the workshops who joined the association in 2021. “We did not experience the 80s-90s, but we know people who live with HIV. And even if the virus is not in our bodies, it is part of our lives”, notes Iréné, 34, who is in his second year. “I see in these workshops a space for intergenerational socializing. It’s like a breath of fresh air in a time of apps where authentic exchanges are lost”, testifies Rémi, 36, a member of the association for two years. “We forget our small lives to remember those of others. These are accessible works that form part of our history. It’s a pity that our new generation does not take an interest in our elders, because one day it will be too late,” he laments before resuming his needle.
An Art of Mourning
For his part, Fred Navarro, 65, former president of Act Up-Paris, unpacks a very special fabric. It is the one he is currently sewing for his deceased partner, with whom he shared eighteen years of life. After years devoted to activism for the rights of people living with HIV, Fred has now found the time and space to mourn, and to give it tangible form. “So that he remains in history and that I can write the first days of the rest of my life”, he explains, caressing the fabric softly.

This story is brought to life by the association beyond its workshops, moving around to unfold the fabrics during commemorative or festive events. The impact on audiences is guaranteed, always deeply moved to discover this art of mourning that earns the Friends of the Patchwork the LGBTQI+ Memory Prize at the 2025 edition of têtu· of the year.