artist statement

Movement is the most authentic form of communication to me. Language confuses me, not in meaning, but in it’s apparent ability to hold the complexity of a human in it’s feeble structure. 


When I speak, there is an active translation from the muddle of information that lives in my body into a frame that feels alien to me. I lose some essence of me when I filter my embodied knowledge through verbal language, and I hardly ever say what I actually mean the first time. 


With movement, it’s different. There is no translation between my thoughts and the action. When I move, the boundaries between my insides and my outsides blur. My archive/sensations/lineage/thoughts/brain is turned inside out and my movement is continuous with who I am. 


My relationship with myself and my external world is changing and morphing by the second, and so is my art, my dance, my words, my knowing. This feels like the beginning of something massive, and all I know right now is that I want to fuck shit up. 

[Image Description: Sam, a white person with a buzzed head, is seen against a white curtain. She is using her hands to squish her face. She is topless, and seen from the shoulders up.]

[Image Description: Sam, a white person with a buzzed head, is seen against a white curtain. They are reaching their right arm straight up and grabbing the curtain. They are topless, and seen from the shoulders up.]

I value transparency in lineage and therefore am taking this space to acknowledge the people who are supporting me and loving me as I am settling into myself. Bits of these people live in me and who I am has to be partially credited to them. 


A massive thank you to Barbie Diewald for listening and challenging me in this research, and for changing the way I think about dance and movement. 


I would not be the person I am today if it weren’t for the quiet genius of my mom. Mom, you are the strangest and smartest person I know and every conversation we have pushes me further and further out of my comfort zone and further and further into a way of existing that “normal” could never even imagine. 


Thank you to Bill, for always supporting me and pushing gender norms with me. Thank you to my Dad and Getty, for the love, the music, and for my deep appreciation for family. And thank you to my grandfather, Bumpy, who poked around in my autistic brain from day one, who loved every inch of me, and will always be my number one role model. 


Thank you to my early dance mentors, to Isadora Snapp, Kiera Sauter, Tracy Martin, Amia Cervantes, and Rose Leach, to my teachers at Bates Dance Festival and The Ailey School, who have all pushed me to grow and flourish.


Thank you to the dance department at Mount Holyoke College, my professors, peers, and friends, for not only allowing me to change, but loving and supporting me in every stage and version of myself. 


Thank you to my neurodivergent support system, to Tovi, Theo, Eleanor, and AnnaMaria. 


And all of my love to my partner Mary, who has made space for me to understand myself in ways I have never experienced before. Thank you, my love.