Words by Ann-Kathrin Riedl

 



Too Much, On Purpose: Inside the world of Sam Quealy

Sam Quealy is not someone you forget easily. Not after seeing her on stage – and certainly not after stepping into the world she creates. The Australian-born, Paris-based artist moves somewhere between club kid, pop performer and conceptual provocateur. Trained as a dancer before turning to music, her work has always been rooted in the body first – in movement, energy, presence. Her sound between pop and techno is inseparable from the way she performs it: physical, exaggerated, deliberately over the top.

Jacket, shirt & pants: Ann Demeulemeester, shoes: Manolo Blahnik

For Fräulein, Sam Quealy is not a newcomer. Back in 2024, shortly after the release of her debut album Blonde Venus, we featured her in our Talent section. After seeing her live, our author described the experience as a kind of “rave into the apocalypse” – and concluded his conversation with her with the line: Quealy will threaten you with a good time – on, or off stage. So, in a way, it feels inevitable that we would meet again — this time following the release of her second album, Jawbreaker. And where better than the legendary Bus Palladium in the heart of Paris Pigalle – a place that carries exactly the kind of glamour Quealy seems drawn to: part decadence, part rock’n’roll, part late-night fantasy. It’s the kind of space where performance and reality blur – much like in her work.

What are you afraid of losing? I think it shows what you care about the most.

Ann-Kathrin Riedl: Recently, I’ve been asking everyone the same opening question: If you had to sum it up in one sentence, why do you do what you do?

Sam Quealy: Because I would not feel complete without it.

How did you grow up, and what kind of environment shaped you early on?

I grew up in Sydney, Australia, in a southern beach town. I am the youngest of three daughters. My dad was an operator and my mum was a preschool teacher. I was always an extroverted, loud child and obsessed with playing dress up, making videos of myself pretending to read the morning news, and forcing my friends to learn dance routines and sing with me when they came over for play dates.

What was your relationship to your body as a child? When did dance first enter your life, and how did that shape you?

I did my first performance on stage at five years old. In Australia, we have things called eisteddfods, where you go on stage and compete your routine. It is very Dance Momscoded. I had full make-up and intense curls in my hair – like a little drag queen at five years old. I was living! I always felt the most myself when dancing – the most free. 

Dress & shirt: Miu Miu, shorts: stylist's own

Is there a gesture or movement that feels like your signature, even subconsciously?

Windmill legs – if you know you know. Combat kicks and martial arts moves. I think my movement is a combination of martial arts meets Fosse meets soft and c*nt.

At what point did music become part of your work? And what elements define your style nowadays?

I was always obsessed with music. As a teenager, I was going to raves and became really into electronic music. I had been writing songs for pleasure but not really taking it seriously. I felt it was more of a hobby or an outlet for emotions. During Covid, like a lot of people, I had more time to reflect on what I really wanted to do and say, and I finally had the time to write an album. I’m teaching myself guitar now. But the process is never complete, I still have so much to learn, and that is exciting.

If my artistic vision were a physical space, it would be a nightclub at 6 am, with only the rockers still standing.

Do you see yourself more as a singer who performs, or a performer who sings?

I see myself as an artist, because all the elements of my musical project cannot exist without each other.

Is “Sam Quealy” a character, or the most honest version of yourself?

It is my real name, it is the real me. I would say “the techno pop princess” is the evil twin pop star version of Sam Quealy, but Sam Quealy is Sam Quealy.

Who were the first people who truly understood what you were trying to do?

My parents – even if it was more intuitive at the beginning. Later on, my producer and collaborator Marlon Magnée and Aymeric Bergada du Cadet really understood my artistic vision. 

Your work is rooted in club and ballroom culture. What does it mean for you to come from that world? How would you describe the magic and empowerment of these spaces to someone who has never experienced them?

Nightclubs kind of made me who I am, because it is where I was able to dress up and express myself. I was gogo dancing and working with drag queens. In nightlife, you meet so many inspiring characters, and people are looking to escape their day. They want to free themselves, so they come out at night and collectively dance. I love that.

Ballroom also really shaped who I am. Ballroom culture started in Black and Latino queer communities in New York, especially Harlem, as a space of safety, self expression, and chosen family – when mainstream spaces were not accessible or welcoming. It is built around houses, which function like families, and competitions called balls, where people walk categories like performance, fashion, runway, face etc. Moving to Paris as a foreigner, ballroom gave me a real sense of community and inspired me a lot to be myself. 

Speaking of spaces – if your artistic vision were a physical space, what would it look like?

It’s so hard to pick one because I’m always inspired by different elements, but I would say a nightclub at 6 am, with only the rockers still standing.

I love extreme femininity and I was really obsessed with it when I was young. I loved characters like Jessica Rabbit. I also find power in taking back control over femininity and exaggerating it.

Blazer: Valentino

Your aesthetic is often described as hyper femininity. What fascinates you about it, and what effect do you want to create with it?

I love extreme femininity and I was really obsessed with it when I was young. I loved characters like Jessica Rabbit. I also find power in taking back control over femininity and exaggerating it. It can be seductive, strong, and even a little dangerous.

Do you think exaggeration reveals truth or hides it?

It depends how it is used. It can highlight hidden emotions and details, or it can distort reality and make it harder to reach the essence.

This issue of Fräulein revolves around the theme “At Peace.” How do you relate to that idea, and how close do you feel to it?

It is a concept I am trying to work on. To be at peace, you need to do the work on yourself. It is about practicing gratitude and finding peace with where you are in life. Otherwise, we are all just on a rat race for nothing. I fluctuate between being on the wheel and stepping off it, trying to be more present and peaceful.

In what moment of your life have you felt closest to yourself, both personally and artistically?

Probably when I am on stage. When I am fully locked in and not thinking, I feel the most myself as both a person and an artist.

What is your deepest sense of fulfillment in that? What do you want to give to people, or to yourself, through your art?

My music and art are a form of escapism. I want to create a world people can step into and lose themselves in for a moment. It is not about giving one fixed meaning, but about offering energy, release, and something that feels alive. For me, the deepest fulfillment is that exchange of energy. My work can be chaotic and intense, but if it leaves someone feeling uplifted, more free, or more themselves, then my job is done.

And how would you encourage someone who is just beginning to discover their own vision to continue that road?

Trust you gut and follow your instincts and curiosities. If you are being pulled towards something or inspired by something, then continue the exploration because its what will create authentic art. Even if people are telling you its bad… don’t listen! 

Coat & shoes: Dior, tights: stylist's own

Look: Dsquared

My work can be chaotic and intense, but if it leaves someone feeling uplifted, more free, or more themselves, then my job is done.

Name a question nobody has ever asked you, but that would be essential to truly understand you.

What are you afraid of losing? Because I think it shows what you care about the most.

What would you tell your younger self about courage and taking risks?

Do not wait for permission. Just go for it. It may feel confusing or uncomfortable, but that usually means you are growing.

And if you could make a promise to your future self, what would it be?

To stay curious, keep evolving, not worry about numbers or metrics, and never lose the joy in creating.

Credits