Samantha Joy Groff talks to Phillip Edward Spradley

Portrait of Samantha Joy Groff. Photo by Sofia Colvin. Courtesy of the artist.

Prepare to be captivated by the enchanting and haunting realm of Samantha Joy Groff, where something wicked awaits to ignite your imagination and linger in your dreams. Groff’s paintings reflect a profound engagement with her background as someone who grew up in rural southeastern Pennsylvania in the Dutch Mennonite community. This environment has deeply influenced her artistic vision, infusing her work with themes of nature, nostalgia, and the complexities of identity.

Groff’s paintings have often featured a striking juxtaposition of dead animals and young women, symbolizing the interplay between life, death, and the fragility of existence. Through these elements, Groff explores themes of vulnerability, transformation, and the cyclical nature of life. Her use of vibrant colors and dynamic forms brings emotional depth to these subjects, encouraging viewers to reflect on their own experiences and relationships with nature and self. This distinctive fusion of personal history and evocative imagery creates a powerful narrative that resonates on multiple levels, inviting introspection and dialogue.

A majority of Groff’s paintings are nocturnal, which allows her to employ a rich palette to evoke mood and atmosphere, creating compositions that resonate with both beauty and depth. Through her unique visual language, she captures fleeting moments and emotions, inviting an intimate dialogue between the artwork and the observer. The scenes set by Groff are familiar environments in which she grew up. With this personal knowledge of space combined with her education, she is able to harmonize and utilize friends and family to construct haunting narratives. Groff fabricates the poses, props, costumes, locations, and lighting.

In Groff’s latest series, the scenes depicted are intimate and sacred; the viewer either is a witness to a performance or has just missed it entirely. The women in the paintings are not to be trifled with. They are in between being possessed or enchanted, neither here nor there, seeping into or coming out of nature’s womb, and no doubt they possess great strength and secrets.

Groff earned her MFA in Painting and Printmaking from Yale University, and earned a dual undergraduate degree from Parsons School of Design, The New School, with a BFA in Integrated Design and a BA in Film Studies. Groff has exhibited at Half Gallery, Los Angeles and New York; Nicodim Gallery, Los Angeles; Galeria Nicodim, Bucharest; Martha’s Contemporary, Austin; Adhesivo Contemporary, Mexico City; Jeffrey Deitch Gallery, New York; and New Image Art Gallery, Los Angeles.

Her current exhibition, Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End, is on exhibit at Nicodim Gallery, New York, through December 7, 2024.

Samantha Joy Groff, Hostage to the Devil, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Phillip Edward Spradley: You lived in Connecticut and New York before relocating back home to Pennsylvania. Do you think this physical move really helped you reach this new phase in your painting? If so, what would you specifically attribute it to? Fresh air, access to nature, being around those near and dear to you?

Samantha Joy Groff: Yes, it’s the difference between visiting a place and being immersed in it. So it has been everything I needed it to be and more. The beauty of leaving a place and coming back is all the time away I’m able to be more critical and observe with a fresh perspective. To be fair, I thought it was going to be easy and hasn’t been but still it’s worth it. The more I've painted, the more I realized that the location is just important as the bodies in my paintings. I’m embracing the regionalist approach. I always admired, Pennsylvania native, Andrew Wyeth. His paintings are a true testament to a space and a specific location. His whole family is a generational commitment to a space and a time and people in Chadds Ford, captures something that requires years of knowing . Living in four plus hours just to see my subjects and try to arrange them at a certain time did not allow for spontaneity or much flexibility.  For example, a forsythia bush would only bloom for a few weeks, and if I didn’t catch it in time I would have to wait til the following year to try out that painting idea.

Now that I live here, I’ve been able to explore a lot more. I’ll ride my bike, or walk or drive to scout new locations without a set idea. I do think through being open to observation, the land will speak to you, and ideas will reveal themselves. Sometimes it’s the way the light is hitting a certain plant, or it’s an animal.  Sometimes people will come into my life that I would’ve never met otherwise. They’re beauty is unique and their story is really interesting, and then that helps me shoot off into a different direction.

Samantha Joy Groff, Spectra, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

In the newest series of paintings, you draw inspiration from the spiritually unknown and the dark arts, capturing eerie yet vibrant scenes filled with a wild energy emitting from various figures. They evoke the essence of cult images in classical painting, which often represent deities or significant figures with ritualistic significance. Given your upbringing in the Mennonite community, did you encounter these representations then, or did you discover them through your own exploration?

I was drawing inspiration from my research into apocalyptic biblical texts and rituals that involve possession for Prophecy of the End. I felt there is a very palpable negative under current in our society right now that felt pressing and unavoidable. I took a lot from reading the book Ugly Feeling by Dianne Ngai, about the power of negative emotions and understanding the complexities of contemporary life. It had less to do with my upbringing, but more about what I have heard through stories told trying to make sense of worldly conflict. In my previous work, I felt like there was a line in my work I had teetered on, a sense of danger and for this I wanted to push past it. I looked into exorcisms and what accounts from the past and contemporary versions included. I also looked into occult rituals, and found strange images of the body being positioned in certain ways. Exorcisms always had a priest and some religious paraphernalia, and I wanted it to feel more personal. Like the person trying to heal you was a friend or loved one.

I found this impending doom feeling ripe along with my research into classical historical painting illustrating the Book of Revelation. It was always this great war scene with horses and men fighting and plagues and angels, and it just feels like science fiction. I asked myself how would I make it in my own world? I think the fear is that if it is happening, there will be no angels, no warriors. I only have the visual language of what I’m seeing right now. And I think that's fine because I think it's scarier when it is just this world and not fantastical. I was aiming to turn the dial up on whatever that unpleasant feeling is collectively vibrating.

Samantha Joy Groff, Casting Out Demons, Direct Contact, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Do you see these recent paintings as humorous and as a challenge to preconceived notions of conservative values, similar to some of your previous outlandish scenes of rural life?

The Pennsylvania Dutch have a great sense of humor, like these vintage illustrations that say “a fat wife, and a big barn never did a man no harm.” I prefer that tongue in cheek way of approaching art making. It’s a little self deprecating but not a complete self mockery of rural life.

I think the humor pushes boundaries and invites you in on the way I approach these ideas. It’s like teenage angst, sometimes such grandiose displays of emotion elicit an unintended humor to the teen’s dismay. My feelings and attitudes are genuine and over the top but I’m in on the joke. For example, one of the paintings in my show is a girl's wet butt and the painting is titled, The Seventh Seal Silence which refers to the 30 minutes of silence in heaven after judgment in the book of Revelation. What a comical juxtaposition. During the process of creating this pose, I wasn’t planning a wet jean butt print. I was hoping for something somber and eerie and yet in those moments something inappropriate heightens things. Like laughter during a funeral. 

I'm down to earth in my understanding that although I have these serious things I'm trying to combat with painting and values, I’m not precious. Maybe because even making art feels like a luxury ideal, given my background. At the end of the day, it's self-reflection, where you can poke fun at yourself for thinking these things. It gives people permission to either not agree with the work, to laugh at the work. I'm not holding it on a pedestal.

Samantha Joy Groff, Hostage to the Devil, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

The exhibition is comprise of ten paintings, all centered around the same subject, but each conveys distinct moods, weights, and tensions. This is achieved through your thoughtful use of color: in Casting Out Demons, Direct Contact, the painting is so blazing red it seems like it could catch fire, whereas The Seventh Seal Silence has the cooler tones of blue and could drift away. Could you share your journey from reading biblical texts that inspired you to developing your vibrant color palette?

Generally for determining the pallets of each painting I'll do a mockup of maybe six to eight different color ways, and see which mood matches the imagery of the painting. During my research I was trying to amplify negative feelings, and create a visceral horror. For this show in particular, I have not done a red painting. I’ve heard the term “go big or go red”. I've gone big so for this show maybe I'll try it red. I always admire when I see a red painting, it's so confrontational and angry. When I started Casting out Demons, Direct Contact, I was having such a hard time with it, I feel as though it mimicked my desired emotional response from the color palette. I was so frustrated that the paint was controlling me. I thought it would look good, it would dry completely differently. It's really so hard to harness, and so I thought how appropriate to the paintings that felt like they needed that.

The Seventh Seal Silencefeels like a resting moment after so many inflamed paintings in the show. I felt the blue, whispery tones were driven by the imagery of water at night. It's the only painting where the chest is bent inward, facing away, hidden. The rest of the paintings feature women with their hearts open and throats exposed. I painted her skin with extra translucent because I was getting my cues from the water she was kneeling in.  She became a ghost image of an actual body in that space, which is why it probably feels like it's going to float away. I was asking myself how do we visualize silence? I don't know. But this girl feels already gone.

Samantha Joy Groff, Laying on of Hands, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

I’m fascinated by your ability to direct all the aspects of a scene in order to capture it in photographs to then paint. In your latest series, what I find absolutely striking is the luminescence of the environment and figures. You do not use more than the headlights of a car to set the lighting and capture the image, as can be seen in Laying on of Hands and Dark Pasture Encounter Rapture. Why does this singular form of lighting hold so much significance for you, and how does it influence the mood and narrative of your work?

I found the headlights a conceptual strategy to both illuminate the figure in a fractured way and also add to the narrative suspense I’m trying to weave. Car lights in very remote places hold significance for me. I have seen strange things at night while driving, like two white dogs emerging from the woods onto the road, a headless chicken, or someone walking alone at night. It feels like as the viewer you are stumbling into a night scene you are trying to make sense of. Is it a ritual, a lover’s knot, or something else? Headlights are not stationary, so it's almost a passing moment not meant to be seen. Occasionally when shooting these painting references, headlight will appear mid shoot idling seemingly watching us. All of a sudden, we have a witness, but the anonymity of the driver remains. It’s unsettling because it’s nighttime and you don’t know if it's the cops, or just some voyeurs. So it almost makes the headlight paintings even more palpable because I’m experiencing the intended feeling while creating the imagery.

In the composition, I want things being revealed to you out of the darkness that I'm trying to emulate. I'm thinking about illumination spiritually and physically. The headlights act as a separation, half of the composition is illuminated by the headlight, and then the other half is still lit, but not the same way. The warm yellow of the headlights captures one figure, the other is above in a cooler light. It fractures the scene, it cuts it in half in a way that is a physical separation based on the light but the bodies are entangled. The lights help shape the hierarchy of figures. One figure is seemingly being possessed or taken up or floating, the other is holding her down.

Samantha Joy Groff, Fentanyl Jesus, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

In the painting Fentanyl Jesus, a matriarchal figure is positioned at the center, using each arm to support two female figures—one above and one beside her. This composition could be interpreted as the figure counseling one and laying the other to rest. How does this powerful and thought-provoking piece explore the themes of addiction, salvation, and societal struggle?

Fentanyl Jesus is based on a pieta, which is normally the Virgin Mary holding Jesus. I found one that had just one mourner next to her. So I thought that was unique. Normally it's just the two of them. Three is a crowd, but fine. Okay, we need a witness. Sorry that’s so fucked up. I love it, there’s the humor, right? I felt it triangulated the figures in an interesting way.

So in that particular piece, I’ve become more involved with friends who are the subjects in this painting. They work in harm reduction in Kensington which is a neighborhood in Philadelphia that has an open air drug market. There are videos of how bad it is there online if you’re curious. These women who lived through it, and actual matriarchs. I’ve committed to painting women who don’t fit neatly into the purity mold, they are survivors. Pennsylvania was devastated by the opioid crisis just as other rural areas, and I know a lot of people who have overdosed. There is still a moralism and stigma around this social issue that I felt is danced around. It’s a dirty, not so secret, secret. 

Addiction is a suffering that I felt could be a metaphor for the possession I was trying to visualize, inner demons or substances as demons rather than biblical. Or a type of escapism from the suffering of this world. I think this painting grounds some of the more out there, apocalyptic paintings of the show. Rather than trying to teach some lesson on the subject, which is complex and monumental, I was trying to show a vulnerable moment in a very real problem our country is facing with people who actually lived it. Their resilience shines through.

Samantha Joy Groff, Dark Pasture Encounter Rapture, 2024. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim.” Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

You have spoken about the endurance and trust that your talent brings to these shoots—since they are mostly friends and family, they aren’t entirely skeptical of your intentions. Can you elaborate on your style of directing? Is it completely visionary or does it sometimes become democratic?

Most of the time, my talent and I are interpreting loose sketches of bodies that I composed that defy actual anatomy. So we are collaborating from the jump on how to make it look close to the sketch. It’s democratic in the sense of, if it's not working for the model or you think something else would look better be my eyes. I always tell people on set with me, be my eyes. 

For better or for worse, I get tunnel vision about a lot of things when shooting. So when I'm trying to get the lighting, angles, and bodies as I pictured in my head, I feel another’s perspective might make it even better. I'm learning to be a better communicator on set because I’m naturally shy on set because I think what I’m asking of the models is so crazy I get self conscious. It helps to know the people you work with because they are enthusiastic and will poke fun at the whole thing while we do it. For example, I always take pictures of feet up close, and the ongoing joke on set is my alleged foot fetish. It breaks the tensions of getting everything perfect and allows me to adapt. The people I paint are amazing at helping me achieve my vision since it’s DIY and sometimes challenging with the weather. They are absolute rockstars.

Considering your technical ability with cameras and talent in composing compositions, do you foresee a future where you take your figures and scenes further and embed histories, relationships, and destinies within a film?

I’m constantly thinking about making films again. Painting has constraints, and I love it as a medium, but there are things I cannot share to you via paint. So trust me, I’m trying. I think my main challenge is the difficulty of switching mediums. For the past four years, I've been nose to the grindstone with painting because I was given the opportunity to go to grad school which was my first time studying painting. I never had a painting practice, knew little about contemporary painting and hadn’t taken a painting class outside of high school.  I took it seriously that I had a lot to learn and felt a lot of catching up to do. So now I finally feel like we're in a good place. There are still a million ways I can grow as a painter, but I think now's a good time to get back to the film and performance to almost regenerate some of the ideas that I have through painting. I want to see, I would like to see what my exorcism scene would look like visually as a film, not just a painting.

Another challenge I have is painting is such a solitary practice. Once you get to the painting phase, I’m by myself all day every day, and that's totally fine with me. I get a little bit more squirrely when I need to rely on other people to make it happen like with films. So now having the experience of shooting for paintings, and knowing people who understand my vision I feel more confident to dip the toe back in.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

What are your plans for the rest of the year? Are you hoping for snow in order to make some winter scenes?

You read my mind about snow. I was only able to capture one snowfall last year. I couldn't ask anyone to do my idea that night because It was like -10 with the wind chill. We were up in the mountains and I laid face down in the snow in nighties and shorts, and I have a facedown painting in the snow.

I’m hoping for snow, but the Farmer’s Almanac for this winter isn’t calling for much. So if I don't get it, I will go to the snow. I also need to figure out how to fairly work with models in the snow without risking anyone's health and doing it safely. I've done paintings when it's so cold out, I just plugged a space heater outside next to the model so that we could get the shot. I'm willing to do it right. I’m currently working on some softer painting during the transitional phase in fall where the fields are yellow and dead. I've done a lot of really bright saturated paintings, and I’m now challenging myself to do a more limited palette without the saturation, just to see what that looks like.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

Samantha Joy Groff: Prophecy of the End. Installation View, Nicodim New York. Courtesy of the Artist and Nicodim. Photo by Shark Senesac / New Document.

To learn more about Samantha Joy Groff, follow her on Instagram @redneckhottwife and visit her website at samanthajoygroff.com

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