Never pick up your own spaghetti and other life lessons, with Sam Bryan.
Sam as "Scout" in Revenge of the Robot Battle Nuns. Photo by Jonathan Beckley (Cropped)
We’re pleased to be chatting with Sam Bryan (she/they), a dancer, event planner, producer, and Co-Director of Bimbology at Inspiria PVD. Sam first moved to Providence in 2005 as a student at Johnson & Wales; their first apartment was a basement studio just up the street from Myrtle. Back in the day, Sam attended countless local raves and metal shows, graduated, and eventually moved up to Boston where they began a performance career. Just before the pandemic hit, Sam’s husband started piercing at Rockstar, so she’s back in town again with a renewed love for Providence’s supportive and welcoming energy.
TW: Sam, we’re going right into the nitty-gritty. How are you paying those bills?
SB: I'm a hustler, baby. As a new business owner, I'm pretty damn broke at the moment. Our gallery is closed during construction, so programming that brings income is paused. In the meantime I'm producing other gigs, but most money brought in goes to production costs and cast. I'm getting by on the love of my friends, husband, and family, if I'm being completely honest. It's my primary goal to shift that reality but not only working harder, but smarter.
Being a working artist is hard. Half of folks are screaming "How dare you charge for your work?!" and the other half screams "How dare you sell it for so little," and you just generally can't make anyone happy in this industry if you're a woman trying to stay alive. It is my hope that this year of laying groundwork in Providence will lead to financial security. What I have to offer is great, and I feel proud that I am given the chance to demonstrate that time and again. But shit, with more financial support? I think I could do so much. So put me in, coach!!! Gimme a chance—and $100,000!
TW: Appreciate the honesty. Support from family and friends is critical, and it’s often less discussed publicly. So, family. Let’s go back to the beginning and meet young Sam and company.
SB: I grew up in the backwoods of central Maine. Rural, but also full of travel and art because my parents are from Brooklyn and were immersed in cultural experiences. The variety and exposure was awesome, but I never felt like I truly belonged anywhere. I wasn't a redneck, but was too country for city folk. I started showing signs of a passion for immersive theater and installation art at a super young age. There was a tiny back hall at my parents' house that I would take over and convert to Sammy's World. I would decorate S's and hang them from the ceiling, and drag blankets and other furniture onto the stage whatever scene it was that day. I'd put a fan in front of me for a breeze, and pop Pure Moods into the boombox. Enya and I would sail away sail away sail away....Those are great memories for me. Oppressive empire times for my little sister. Don't ask her about the bees. She's a social worker now.
TW: Maine: Come for the lobster; stay for the Enya and DIY immersive youth theater. So you were an indoor kid?
SB: I hate to be this person, but I grew up in "different times," before cell phones and social media. Back when our parents wanted us to go outside so they could get a break. Most of my stories begin and end with "So yah, my mom locked us out of the house for a couple hours and we just went in the woods and built stuff." It sounds awful out of context by today's standards, but I think that outside playtime gave me an adventurous spirit and physical resilience, it's deeply ingrained in me. It made me a very treat motivated person, because whenever mom let us back in we'd have cool stuff like fresh baked cookies, lemonade, or could watch movies.
Sam in ballet, around 11-13, with instructor Andrei Bossov. (Cropped)
TW: What about art in schools, community groups, etc?
SB: I was on a pre-professional track for ballet, so if I wasn't in school or banished to the forest, I was in a dance studio 6 days a week. All of my instructors were Russian, having retired to or defected from the Soviet Union. Having been essentially co-parented by these teachers was an experience I'm still unpacking today, but I will say that it gave me a strong work ethic and high standards for the work I want to put into the world. It's also made me a huge pain in the ass, and there's definitely that part of me that wants to rebel against everything since I spent so many years in such a militant program.
TW: Being in a pre-professional track, I imagine some kind of local competition was involved. Did that happen, or any travel?
SB: I had the opportunity to travel to Russia with a small group of classmates when I was 17 to perform at the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg. I learned so much about differences in Russians vs. American culture, and the high regard they hold for the arts there. I had the best blueberry tea of my life there, my first series of panic attacks in public, and went to my first ever strip club. It was also the trip where my insecure teenage brain decided for future-me that I would never be a ballet dancer because I could never be as perfect as the Kirov prima ballerina who played Giselle. So, now I spend a lot of my time supporting others in how to love themselves in their craft, partially as a love letter to my younger self who gave up.
TW: You spoke to the importance of community for artists—can you elaborate a bit on that with respect to finding your own way in that post-ballet era?
SB: Keep good company. This took me too long to understand. I have a lot of friends and friendly associates, but I intentionally keep a very small, carefully curated inner circle. I'm prone to romantic close friendships and could probably be considered a relationship anarchist? These are people I trust to check me when needed, to tell me the truth. They also value when I have to occasionally deliver hard truths back. They're people whose loyalty and love I don't have to question when I leave the room, and they give me the space to disappear for days and sometimes weeks at a time when life gets crazy. They're genuinely invested in my wellbeing, and have permission to troll me mercilessly. That's love. One of my absolute favorite hobbies is to gas up my friends. It's soul food for sure.
TW: How has Covid impacted your practice? Are you a sourdough person...If so, please tell us about anything other than sourdough.
SB: During quarantine when all of the venues shut down, I had a total career crisis like most in our industry. The Rhode Island Nursery & Landscape Association offered stipends to folks who lost work due to Covid-19, to be trained in green industry skills. I wouldn't say that I have a green thumb, but I love gardening. I did the program and got hired as a fine gardener in south county. It was the best. I worked alongside a crew of other kind, hard working women, bonding over native plants and beautifying these gorgeous properties. The care, detail and patience required in fine gardening— organic, no power tools, no chemicals—honed my attention skills and sense of harmony. Like in a healthy ecosystem, I'm now inspired to lead always with cohesion and collaboration, not competition.
Sam’s first professional shoot as a burlesque dancer. Vintage Girl Studios, RI, circa 2012. (Cropped)
TW: Cohesion and collaboration! We’re into it. On that note—maybe use this moment to share your thoughts on art and activism, both what you’re up to and what you’d love to see from others.
SB: All art is inherently political. I'm passionate about redistribution of wealth efforts, as well as support for sex workers via direct resources and legislation. Many of the "big" projects and life experiences I've had are because of my previous work as a stripper for over a decade. Sex workers are everything to me. I'd love it if everyone could consider donating to SWOP USA or Coyote RI. I advocate for fair artist pay in gigs I get—some days that feels like an uphill battle, but I'm tenacious if nothing else.
Most of what the public sees from Third House Events is burlesque and drag. I love shoving gender and confident sexuality in unconventional formats in the public's face. Most of them end up converted. Some of them even become performers! I plan to offer a range of events at different pricing tiers, which in turn supports guarantees and services for artists of all income levels. Once Inspiria opens its doors, we plan to activate a community pantry, as well as have harm reduction supplies available. I'm working 501c3 status to apply for city and state money—if the government refuses to provide proper healthcare, then we'll just have to make them pay for harm reduction.
But please go to your local club and buy dances and make it rain on those stages! Direct support is always superior!
Sam and Creeps, their business partner at Inspiria. Shot by Slepting.
TW: We’ve touched on militant ballet training, Covid, and sex work. You have stories. Reach into the vault and just throw a couple of memorable ones at us.
SB: Once I reached out to a film festival in Mexico because I wanted to infiltrate the industry out there. They were so confused about why a random girl from Boston was reaching out to a fest in Mexico that they decided to invite me down just to party with them for a week so they could meet me and my cojones. It ended up going so well that I met my future mentor and moved to Mexico City.
Another story was from 2013 when I performed in a poorly organized show that had no stage hands, and I ended up naked, covered in spaghetti at the end of my act. When I went to leave the stage, the host asked what I was doing, and to go back on stage and clean up all of my spaghetti. You see, usually in burlesque there are separate people who do cleanup while the host banters. So with no host, no music, no help, I turned right around and started scooping up spaghetti while naked in front of 200+ people just staring at me. I didn't know what to do to break the silence so I just started awkwardly singing Mambo Italiano.
Now when my co-producers and I are talking to our casts about expectations and schedule, we caution them to never "pick up their own spaghetti," and to gracefully exit the stage while the tech team and host do their jobs.
TW: I think we just found our interview title. Clearly, that was someone else’s production error. Now, your turn! Tell our readers about a time you screwed up.
SB: In my late 20's, I was enjoying some small local success in Boston as a producer. I decided to branch out and bring a variety show to a city where I did not have a built in audience. The first show was a big success because loyal patrons and friends from my established fanbase traveled over an hour away to attend and support the premiere. I got cocky and put basically no effort into the second installment. Surprise, surprise, nobody came....except for my ex and a couple of his friends who walked in, pitied me, and left. I had a public breakdown toward the end of the show that escalated to a full-blown screaming fit with the door guy who waved a dollar in my face and said "Congratulations, sweetheart."
It was an ugly low point. I was the contact person representing the troupe, so my ego dragged multiple people by association. Fortunately it was so small that it didn't affect us publicly, but it was certainly a big ol' slice of humble pie for yours truly, and made my castmates question whether or not I was well suited for larger responsibilities. Long term professionally, it's impacted my research and customization of services and marketing based on location, demographic, and regional nightlife trends. On a personal level, it's a cautionary tale for keeping your shit together when you're in a leadership role. I believe in finding a balance between authenticity, vulnerability, and confidence when directing a team. I don't need to go Stepford Wife on everyone, but they don't need to do the emotional labor to soothe the person who is supposed to be keeping them safe and informed.
Sometimes your shows won't sell well. Like, at all. But the more risks you take, the more exposure you have to "failure", and over time it loses its sting. That big blunder was my first epic nose dive, and it definitely thickened my skin forever.
Sam and the Lipstick Criminals troupe. “This was one of my favorite shows I ever got to do! Super empowering, surrounded by incredible women.” Circa 2017-2018.
TW: That is brutal—but also, very cool that you’re able to reflect, share, and grow. We will now reward you with humble brag time. Talk about how awesome things are.
SB: My work-wife Jane Doe and I just started Third House Events in May 2023, and already our production company has landed two large clients and multiple residencies in various venues. Not to mention future collaborations and events in the works. Like, what?! I've also started teaching Burlesque 101 classes, and it is everything. I love teaching, I love my students, and I love the glow radiating off of everyone in class when they let themselves go. The sweet messages, emails, and hugs I receive mean the world. I've definitely been considering opening some sort of "school". I dunno, that's 2026 goals.
Also, only a few months in, I'm opening a gallery/venue with Creeps, the director of the former gallery Bad Fit in Olneyville. It's an absolute dream. The structural and certification logistics suck so bad, but being able to have a space of our own is still a little beyond my comprehension, it's so cool. Artists will reach out with pitches and be like "So who do I talk to?" and I just look around and then am like "Um..me? Me!!"
TW: What’s something coming up in the next 2-3 months you’d like to have on peoples’ radars? :
SB: Follow @inspiriapvd on IG for updates on our grand opening and all upcoming shows! We've got brilliant visual artist residencies, immersive theater, a synth fest, a hardcore monthly, drag, burlesque, a kinky abba disco party, markets, fashion shows, wrestling, and more.
Follow @thirdhouseevents for all of our upcoming debauchery, as well! We're curating the entertainment for the Coastal Cultivators Classic at the Artiste Hope Village on March 23rd and 24th. Then on April 5th, we're collaborating with Dahlia Strack and Mx. Matched Socks to bring you April Fools: A Burlesque and Drag Bonanza at The Met. And beginning in May, we're teaming up with Wes's Rib House to bring back Sticky Fingers: A BBQlesque & Drag Revue, so stay tuned for those announcements!
And obviously everything Myrtle because they're the best and we love them forever.
Sam, thanks so much for sharing all this with us. We’re going to wrap up Ezra Klein Show-style and ask you to suggest 2-3 books you think everyone should read.
Entitled by Kate Mann
Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again by Katherine Angel
All About Love by bell hooks
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