Sam Larson
Sam (they/them/theirs) is a trans, disabled, mixed Native artist; 37 years old, currently residing in New Jersey.
Message
Sam Larson (born 1988) spent most of their childhood in an unincorporated rural area outside of Chicago, IL, and currently resides in New Jersey. They have a B.Sc. in Science, Biotech, and Pre-Vet Med from the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign, and are currently pursuing their B.F.A. in Fine Arts from the Academy of Art University in San Francisco. They are a multidisciplinary artist whose visual and written work explores their experiences as a detribalized, mixed Native trans person navigating the consequences of childhood loss, forced assimilation, and more broadly, the continued colonization of Turtle Island (currently known as North America).
In their current body of work, Sam explores life with family and without. They utilize their deceased father’s photography and journals from the 1970s until his death in 1995 to share both their joy and their grief via oil paintings, traditional printmaking, and hand bound and illustrated books (watercolor and ink). Sam is also in the process of developing horror screenplays and a short film.
Statement
2025 marks the 30th anniversary of my dad’s death. For some years leading up to this one, I’ve felt a wave of grief resurfacing, this time focused on how little I know about my dad, mom, and brother because of how young I was when my mom and brother went missing and my dad died.
My most recent series of artworks, And he was my Dad… includes realistic oil paintings, relief prints, and a hand bound book of watercolor illustrations touring my childhood neighborhood. To view this collection, please click here.
For each of my artworks, no matter the medium, my process for choosing subject matter for this series is similar. I have many boxes of my dad’s photography that he meticulously labeled and dated as he had each roll of film developed over a span of 20 years. Most of the photos are still paired with the original film itself, so I carefully keep the photos as they were originally organized. I take my time setting the photos out on my desk, noticing who is in each photo, appreciating what my dad saw each moment that he decided was worth capturing. I’ll set aside the photos that naturally strike me in some way. Often it’s the people in the photo, the composition, or the memory it evokes that becomes the spark for my imagination.
Once I select an image, I decide on medium. Mostly, it depends on the photo and my own physical capacity as a disabled artist. I move between mediums based on how the photo has aged over the years or the resources at hand, as well as how much pain is pulsing through my hands, my back, or my feet at the given moment. My prints are small scale while my paintings are often medium to med-large scale.