Courtney Zheng singlet, T-shirt and top; stylist’s own stockings
COME INTO MY WORLD BY ELLIE LOUISE COKER AND NICHHIA WIPPELL
PHOTOGRAPHER: Ellie Louise Coker
STYLIST: Nichhia Wippell
HAIR: Darren Borthwick @ Artist Group
MAKEUP: Rae Morris
MOVEMENT DIRECTOR: Matthew Gode
WORDS: Bianca Farmakiss
Independent artistry takes on multiple lives in the world of Sam Quealy, each as meticulously constructed as it is scintillating to witness. The Australia-born, Paris-based performer has been shaped by perpetual motion, her career spanning hemispheres and disciplines, beginning with the early defiance of a rebellious ballerina at the barre and unfurling into something far less containable.
A vision of movement and provocation’s musical collision, since her post-COVID debut, Quealy has sold out shows at venues as mythic as La Machine du Moulin Rouge and Berghain, channeling the club-kid heart that first ignited at 14 into spaces that thrive on excess, freedom and intensity. There, her work crystallised, positioning her as a vital presence within the underground dancefloor ecosystem – not merely an act, but an instigator.
Defined by a kaleidoscopic, chameleonic performance language, Quealy’s artistry extends well beyond the stage. Her music has found high-profile syncs in Netflix series Elite and Under a Dark Sun, while her magnetic universe has cut through fashion culture, glinting at the forefront of Swarovski crystal campaigns.
With her second album, Jawbreaker, released in January and a tour set to unfold across 2026, Quealy enters a phase of consolidation – not restraint, but refinement. Years of visual and sonic experimentation converge here: operatic wigs, costumes nodding to an early-era Madonna and a fiercely DIY ethos that places creative control firmly in her own hands. Guided by a deep commitment to female liberation and LGBTIQA+ rights, her exaggerated imagery and hypnotic techno-fusion radiate a sense of pride with no limitations.
As Jawbreaker pulses outwards, Quealy’s project continues to expand – not towards polish or containment, but towards something louder, freer and unmistakably her own.
SIDE-NOTE: Obvious attraction aside, what sparked your move abroad at 18?
SAM QUEALY: I left Australia as soon as I could and started travelling and working – Hong Kong, the Philippines, all over. I was doing all these strange jobs: magician’s assistant, Disney Princess. I eventually landed in Paris and joined a cabaret, tits out at the Moulin Rouge, and I loved it. But dance has so many rules; you’re always inside someone else’s vision. I was already training in a vogue house, soaking up the city, writing songs just for pleasure.
SN: Until COVID – then there was a shift?
SQ: When everyone had a lot of time. I finally set down these songs and realised I could put all of my creative experience into one project, and that became my first album, Blonde Venus.
Niamh Galea shorts
Camilla and Marc dress; stylist’s own gloves
SN: You’re largely self-taught. How did that shape you?
SQ: I’m a DIY princess. When you don’t have budget, you either give up or say let’s fucking go. I taught myself French. I learnt how to make wigs. I didn’t have a choreographer so I became my own. It’s the definition of an independent artist I guess, figuring it out and making it happen anyway.
SN: Your image is constantly evolving and is so intricate. How do you build yourself on-stage?
SQ: All my favourite artists are exactly that… artists. They create worlds. For me, it’s universe-building, pulling from everything that inspires me: cartoon versions of women, anime, drag queens, club kids. The club is where you experiment with who you want to be, and I started going to raves when I was 14 – even Defqon. Dance music is escapism, and Jawbreaker lives in that space.
SN: You’ve mentioned the frustration of being part of someone else’s vision as a dancer. How does total control feel now?
SQ: It’s a lot of pressure, and work, but my work lives in my imagination. When I’m writing, there’s always a persona that needs to exist visually as much as sonically. Beneath all the design, it’s very clear this is coming from me. I’m learning to collaborate more though, because new perspectives are important. That’s a goal for this year.
SN: And now you’ve got your new album, Jawbreaker, out. Do you feel a shift in how you’re approaching your artistry?
SQ: I grew so much as a composer and songwriter. The first album was instinct – making sounds I thought were cool, with no expectations. This time I slowed down. I learnt new instruments. We recorded in this iconic Paris studio where Serge Gainsbourg worked – you can still see his cigarette burns on the piano. It felt magical. Sonically, it’s more ’70s cold-wave disco, filtered through what I like. I don’t have classical training, so I just trust my ear. There really are no rules to music.
[top] Acne Studios pants | [bottom] Haelo bra; Maison Essentiele top; Courtney Zheng shorts (all worn throughout); Jimmy Choo shoes
Wynn Hamlyn belt (worn as a top), top (worn over shorts) and shorts
Karlaidlaw top; Haelo shorts; Jimmy Choo shoes
Niamh Galea dress; Sportmax shoes; stylist’s own stockings
SN: Where does that rebellious confidence come from?
SQ: The artists I love – Bowie, Mick Jagger, the OG [Madonna]. When I was dancing, I was a bit of a black swan: smoking, skipping ballet class, trying to drag everyone else out with me. But that strict training stays in your body – I can still throw a jump split if I need to. I do love that discipline and it gave me freedom later.
SN: You’ve grown a huge audience quickly and you’re touring this year. Does it ever get lonely when the lights go down?
SQ: Definitely. I remember opening for another artist in New York, playing to thousands, then leaving alone. No dancers, no tour manager. It was snowing. I packed up my wigs and shoes and walked home past everyone – no one recognised me. It was so sad. Now I have a lot of balance and surround myself with friends and everything because you do a better show. I just connect way more.
SN: Is there a thread that ties together the dance, theatre, performance art and music?
SQ: Industry people used to say I was too much – too many directions, too many sounds. But that’s the most honest way for me to work. I love shape-shifting. That’s what makes music exciting. Jawbreaker is about escapism – running away from something, running towards something. It’s always in motion.
SN: So with all that evolution, what do you still carry with you from Sydney to Paris?
SQ: I’m from Cronulla. You go from a very chill beach life, and then Paris is like, nightlife! Things on every night! I think I take the fact that Australians work really hard, but I also appreciate the French way of taking time to eat a meal, enjoy a glass of red wine. They’re very good at savouring these kind of moments, and it’s been really helpful to build that into my work.
SN: You’ve said you don’t watch charts or streams, so tell us, what does success look like?
SQ: Hearing people sing the lyrics back to me on tour. Talking to fans about which songs matter to them. That’s all you can ask for as an artist, to connect with people.
