Today we’d like to introduce you to Sam Rothermel

Hi Sam, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.

The most memorable moments of my childhood involved telling stories to anyone who’d listen: I put on concerts using the den table as my stage, singing Brittney Spears and hoping to be a pop star; I choreographed dances for the talent show; I taught myself to play piano, and then, guitar. As I got older and more outspoken, as being “different” became a form of othering, I realized that the most peaceful I ever felt was in a state of creative flow––and I wanted to do that for a living.

I hate to report that I did *not* become a pop-star, but I did receive dual degrees in Acting and Writing from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts––so, kind of the same thing. I learned that you could make some incredible, life-altering friendships and wild art with other misfits. In community, there was space to rage, and grieve, and figure myself out, alongside people who wouldn’t judge my works-in-progress, but instead, actively chose to celebrate them.

It took me a few years, and a handful of fuck-ups, to turn that kindness onto myself and start authentically claiming my identity. But eventually, we got there.
In my late 20s, I came out to my friends, family, and a few of my colleagues as Queer and polyamorous, and I went full-tilt on embracing the multi-hyphenate nature of my artistry. I started In-Motion Photo, where I curate branding content for other artists and small businesses. I wrote a feature, Night Witches, that follows the first all-female air force unit to see combat in WWII––which, truly, is as gay as it sounds. And I’ve portrayed imperfect survivors with enormous heart, on screen and on stage. I embraced that my path would be non-linear, and sometimes, atypical. But what is an atypical life, if not a fearless one?

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?

I laughed when I read the first part of this question and it immediately made me think of the Ira Glass quote about Art and Taste:

“All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But it’s like, there’s this gap. For the first couple years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good. It’s not that great. It’s trying to be good, it has ambition to be good, but it’s not that good. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you. A lot of people never get past that phase. They quit.”

I think The Gap he talks about not only applies to the liminal space between where your art is and where you want it to be, but also, who you are as an artist and who you want to become. I know the latter definitely speaks to my own artistic journey.

When I began working as a teenager, it was very easy for me to equate my identity with what was industry standard. I learned pretty quickly that being deemed castable meant one thing: masking. During college, this narrative continued. It caused a ripple of emotional breakdowns, as I struggled with depression. And all I could feel was The Gap: the glimmer of the brave artist that I wanted to be and where I was stuck, molding myself to the expectations of others.

And then, this funny thing happened. I took a full left turn––a four and a half year break from art––to build a life so far removed from creativity that my inner voice stopped asking, “What are we doing?”. It involved one full-time job with benefits, a long-term relationship, and a body I’d completely dissociated from. In screenwriting, we’d file this under The Dark Night of the Soul. Right about now, you’re probably asking about the turn into Act Three: how did I get out?

I leapt, completely unsure of what I was going to do––only that if I didn’t, I’d lose my grip on the art that I desperately wanted to make AND the person I knew I could become. In this insane free fall, I realized there were some really big parts of me that I’d been repressing. So, I Queered up my life: I started to date women, read every book on non-monogamy I could get my hands on, and made a lot of messy mistakes, along with some sexy ones I could tell you at a bar sometime. I found out about my neurodiversity, which is often a super-power, and other times, just really….overstimulating. I unlearned, over and over again, the values I’d been taught were supposed to be my life’s compass.

And as I did, The Gap started to close. I began making art again on my own terms. I pulled up the little, creative voice inside me and asked her what she needed. Even now, sometimes, she’s quiet. She still wrestles with imposter syndrome. She questions if creating in a commercial art world is what she wants to do. She doesn’t always fit into some neat, easily palatable box.

So maybe, The Gap isn’t some grand arrival. Maybe it happens every time you discover something new about yourself and have the bravery to integrate it––into life and your life’s work––in ways that other people wouldn’t dare. Maybe it’s just the act of making space for the glorious mess of becoming.

Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?

I am a proud multi-hyphenate artist (actor, writer, and photographer) currently based between NYC and LA. With an athletic background and love for world-building, I often play scrappy survivors in genre work––namely action, horror, and supernatural films. I most recently starred in the action-comedy, Gothic Slayers and Queer-horror, Crimson Shadows, both of which will be released later this year.

During the dual SAG-AFTRA and WGA strikes, I began writing Night Witches: a hidden-figures story about Marina Raskova, who founded the first ever, all-female bomber unit to fly against the Nazis during WWII. I was interested in reckoning with the imperfect female historical figure. Often, scripts that tackle feminist icons romanticize their heroines as being “remarkable”. Marina, single-handedly, broke through years of labor inequality and sexism within the Soviet military to form the Night Witches, and also, negotiated with one of the most violent, authoritarian leaders of the 20th century. I wanted readers to ask themselves if social progress can only come at the expense of moral sacrifice, and how, if that’s true, these figures might also struggle as the antagonists of the own stories.

As a photographer and owner of In-Motion Photo, I specialize in creating immersive portrait shoots for other multi-hyphenate artists and tailor-made branding for small businesses. I most often collaborate with other members of the LGBTQ+ community, where I aim to create a safe space for my clients to show up as their most authentic self in front of the camera. Alongside my business, I’ve been developing a long-term photo project that interrogates Games People Play by Eric Berne through the lens of Queerness and other non-traditional relationship styles. You can see my work for Grammy winners, Dream Theater featured in Young Guitar Magazine, along with promotional shots for The Flea Theater (Off Broadway), and published features in Variety, Business Insider, and Broadway World.

Regardless of the medium, I am fascinated by the ways in which humor’s radical honesty teaches us to survive and how it can be a mirror to our resilience. It has allowed me to accept my own imperfections and created a container from which I’ve been able to process trauma from my past––and carved out places for my clients to explore their own. And most importantly, it has fostered chosen family into my life: a community as equally dedicated to the transformative power of collective joy as I am.

What has been the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?

This one is simple. When given the space, take it up––even if you don’t quite get it right, even if you’re harboring doubt or feeling small. If you breathe into the experience and trust the house you’ve built, there’s discovery to be found. And if the whole thing turns into a trash fire, extinguish it and try again.

And again.
And again.

Because if it matters to you, it’s worth the effort.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.samrothermel.com
• Instagram: @samrothermel @in.motion.photo
• Other: https://www.-in-motion-photo.com