Scrambled Eggs Interview Series: Sam Ganados
Sam Ganados in their studio (bedroom) with their dog König. Photo by Anny Ayala Ortega.
Interview with Sam Ganados
By Emmanuel Muñoz, Charlene Elma, and Geovany Uranda
Working out of their bedroom (and now garage), we find artist Sam Ganados with a half finished painting on an easel, countless more adorning the walls, art books scattered around, and trinkets of all sorts. We caught up with them for an interview and studio visit during the early stages of planning for their upcoming solo exhibition titled, Without You Without Them.
EM: How long have you lived in this house?
SG: Since 8th grade? I don't know what year that was. How old am I? Probably 2009, 2011? Wow. I feel like I've accumulated a lot of things, and that's why there's just things everywhere. I have too many things.
EM: Has this always been your studio and when did you start calling it that; or is that just what other people call it?
SG: Well, when I first moved in, in 8th grade, I don't think I was taking art too seriously at the time hahaha. I think, at that time, I was drawing, like, punk Ariel with tattoos. I guess my bedroom technically has always been my studio.
During COVID is when I really had to make it my studio. That's when I was taking painting online for college and just having to do all my paintings in here. That's when I finally bought an easel and it was official.
EM: How did you get into roller skating?
SG: I always wanted to do it but was always too scared. I grew up with my older brother and I always wanted to do what he did. He did cool stuff with his friends, but they never wanted me to hang out with them because I was just, like, the annoying little girl. I feel like I've always been into a lot of the same things as my brother. At first, I wanted to skateboard. My brother and I got skateboards in second grade and went to the park. Bunker [W. Wayne Bunker Family Park] was the closest park to us. But it was filled with just dudes, like, teenage boys. And I was what, eight? With my Bratz skateboard. It wasn't even a skateboard, it was a longboard probably. It was weird. But yeah, I pulled up with that and ended up too scared and shy to actually do anything there.
And then in high school, I found out about park roller skating and I saw that it was a female dominated thing and that was very inspiring to me. All the videos I saw, they were doing flips on their rollerskates in the bowls of the skatepark. I wanted to do it so bad, but I was, like, girl…you need a gymnast background or something to do any of that. I didn't know how to skate at all, but I did buy a pair of roller skates after learning about park skating, and that's when I first started to learn. But I only learned to go up and down the street and barely knew how to stop.
During the pandemic is when I started getting into it again. I think that's when a lot of people started getting into roller skating. I ordered some Moxi skates, but they were backordered and I waited four months to get them. I started learning again on my shitty old skates from high school, waiting for those new skates to come. Once I got them, I started going to the skate park. And now I've been skating for four years!
Sam Ganados, Concrete Kiss, colored pencil and marker on paper, 14 x 11 in., 2024
EM: Do you feel there's a clash between roller skating and other types of skating?
SG: Well, apparently there was a big clash in the 90s with skateboarders and rollerbladers—rollerbladers, not roller skaters, although they are kind of similar—I don't know what it was. But I think skating now is a lot more open and welcoming, or at least people mind their business, for the most part. If you're at the park and you're about what you're doing, they'll respect it. You don't have to do anything cool.
I have been learning a lot about skateboard history. There's so much more content about it online. Obviously, it's a very male dominated sport. And I've learned more and more about queer people who have been skateboarding and who are big skateboarders now. A lot of the female skaters early on when it was becoming big in the 80s would never go pro because they were girls.
Roller skating in general is such an open community. They are very welcoming and there's also so many different types of roller skating. I focus on park skating a lot, but I mean, roller skating started from the rink. I feel like a lot of history is in rink skating. Like the dance rhythm and jam skating, and then there's derby too which is also its own community.
EM: How do you choose who you want to depict in your work and what is their involvement in the community?
SG: All of the people I’ve painted are people I met through skating, which is also what I love about the roller skating community, how welcoming and friendly they can be to new skaters. Flor, actually, was one of the first people that reached out to me because I just posted on my instagram story and I was, like, does anyone want to go to the park? I didn't know anybody and was shy and scared, especially going to Craig [Craig Ranch Skatepark]. That park is huge.
Eventually, as I started getting comfortable going to the park, I just started meeting more and more people. That's the thing about roller skaters, too. You go to the park, you see another roller skater and you kind of just become friends. I will go to the park and be the only girl there for most of my session. It's a long time until another girl pops up. And it's so crazy. So especially when it's a roller skater, you kind of just become besties. Even if you don't know them, you're like, hey, I like your skates. And then you start talking because of that.
Sam Ganados, Flor, oil on canvas, 24 x 18 in., 2024
GU: You have a lot of interesting imagery in your work, what thought process goes into staging your shots? What’s important about the objects that you choose to explore and display?
CE: I'm curious about the staging too.
SG: I think of the concept first, they usually come from an experience I had or a common problem I usually see within the broader community. This painting came from something that happened to me. It's titled, Oh You Just Come Here to Look Good Huh. And it's titled that because I was skating at Craig sitting down and just chilling, and then a guy came up and we had a conversation that was like:
“Hey, can you do something cool on that?”
I'm like, “No, I'm just chilling right now,” while I'm, like, catching my breath.
“Oh, you just come here to look good, huh?”
I'm like, what the hell?
CE: How long after that moment with him did you sit down and make the iPhone sketch?
SG: Probably either that week or I think I might have written this note first, like, wrote down what he said.
Left: Sam Ganados, iPhone sketch of Oh You Just Come Here to Look Good Huh, 2023
Right: Sam Ganados, Oh You Just Come Here to Look Good Huh, oil on canvas, 42 x 30 in., 2024
CE: Venting.
SG: Right. And so, originally, this note was October 9th, 2023. Then this painting was finished in February (2024). So it takes some time especially because I want to stage the photo reference. This guy in the painting is my friend Aaron who is a skateboarder. I posted to my story on my personal skate account and I was like, “Hey guys, do I have any skateboarder friends that want to be in this painting? It is about, like, catcalling, but I swear, it's cool.” No one really said anything, but I had a few friends who liked the post. Aaron was one of them so I reached out to him. And low-key, he was the person I had in mind, but I didn't want to say, like... “you look like a grimy...” I was, like, “in the best way possible, you are the person I had in mind for this painting.” And he was stoked about it. He was really excited.
Originally, this painting was going to be just those two figures. And then I thought, “Oh, it'd be really fun to include other friends in it.” That guy on the side is one of Aaron’s good friends, Isaiah. I was at the skate park one day and so was he. I was like, “I'm doing this painting right now and Aaron's in it.” I showed him what I was working on. And I was, like, “Do you want to be in the background?” Aaron didn't even know that Isaiah was going to be in that painting, which was a fun surprise!
All of my skateboarder dude friends like this painting, but sometimes I don't know if they actually understand the concept. Maybe they just love it because our friend is in it or they just think the blow up doll concept is funny, but they support it. I feel like that's a start. I think including people in the community and showing that we can play and have fun with these things, but also, it's, like, a serious thing. I think that's a good start into making a better community. Yeah. Aaron is an artist and he does music too. He has his own brand called lame skates, so I included his sticker in the painting. It's such a cute little detail.
EM: And what happened with the blow-up doll?
SG: I used the blow-up doll because I feel like that's how it felt. Whenever things like that happen, it feels like the dudes don't see you as a person. They see you just like… a sexual object. So that's why I used the blow-up doll, to make it quite literal. I bought a blow-up doll and everything and I put the clothes on it. And then I just made the features... I tried making it look like me, like the caricature of me that I usually do in my paintings. I feel like I've been trying to solidify a style(?) Sometimes I feel like I don’t have one. I actually took her out again recently because she's going to make another appearance.
GU: Do you think there's a lack of welcoming spaces for roller skaters, especially femme, queer, and black and brown skaters?
SG: It's not so much the physical location, but the community itself. For it to be truly welcoming, you kind of need to change the mindset of all of these skaters… skateboarding culture can be very…grimy sometimes. They do whatever they want. A lot of times skateboarding is their life. Their free time after work and school is skating. They're outside all day and if the skatepark is all they know, it can be like an echo chamber of toxic behavior. Especially if you grow up with that at a young age and like you're around that same thing, treating people a certain way. But from what I've learned about skating from the 90s to now, it feels like things are slowly changing. I think that change has come from the inclusion of diverse people.
GU: How has your family responded to the sexuality and queerness in your pieces?
SG: TBH [to be honest], they don't really know the concepts of my work. I think they kind of get the concepts, especially with the skating ones. I think they understand the concepts of femininity vs masculinity in male-dominated spaces, misogyny and the way that feminine people are treated differently. But when it comes to sexuality, like… the painting that you have (Any Shape You Take, 2022), they never knew what the concept was of that painting. And they never asked. And I never told them. My parents don't know that I'm queer. My family is very Catholic and religious and conservative in general. And not that I think that they… Well, who knows? I don't know if they'd be accepting. I don't think they're really gonna know it unless, like… I don't know.
When I was in the BFA, I was in the studio at UNLV. At that point, I was in my studio on campus so all of the more sexual types of work, like... I had that one painting, it had two Barbies scissoring. And the lemon was turning into, like, a nipple. And then there was straight up a cooch. There was, like, cooch on the peach. My parents have never seen that painting, ever.
Sam Ganados, What I Always Wanted, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 in., 2021
GU: There's a Spanish saying that got popularized by or I think originated with Juan Gabriel. And he says, “Lo que se ve, no se pregunta”. Which is, you don't ask about what you can see. You see it, you know it, but you don't have to acknowledge it and that is enough. How does this affect how open you are about yourself at home as opposed to other spaces?
SG: And I wonder if my parents see it and not acknowledge it. I don't acknowledge it around them because I already have an idea of their values, and don't need the conflict between us.
I think that's why finding the spaces and the people that I document in my work are so important to me. Spaces like the skatepark or the music scene, communities that naturally occur in alternative and DIY spaces, second families. Even within the culture itself, we have to create our own subcultures within. These spaces are important to me because it's where I and so many others feel like we can be ourselves and have other people from similar backgrounds who have our backs. And if anything, even if you don't find that community, places like the skatepark can be a third space, somewhere that isn't home or work where you feel like you belong.
EM: How do you think your work is changing the culture around community and safe spaces in roller skating and in general?
SG: I don't know, I think maybe my work isn't changing culture per say, but it acts as a reflection of the culture right now. A lot of my online following has become roller skaters, which I love! And it's just crazy to know that I can make a painting about an experience, and people connect with it because they have also experienced it. And obviously my paintings use the skatepark as an example, but the experiences of being a woman or openly queer or a person of color in public spaces are universal. I'm not just critiquing skate parks and DIY culture, but male dominated spaces, and patriarchy in general. I think that acknowledging these things as an unpleasant universal experience can act as a starting point to solving these problems. And I think seeing people who look like you, seeing women, queer people, seeing people of color, being represented in a positive, even neutral context, can be validating too, and I hope that's what I can provide through my work as well.
CE: Where to next?
SG: The skate park!
Sam Ganados in their studio (garage). Photo by Anny Ayala Ortega.
Sam Ganados is an artist based in Las Vegas. They earned a Bachelors of Fine Art and a Bachelors of Science in Graphic Design from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Ganados’ work explores themes of gender, identity, and nonconformity. Her practice references both their own lived experience as a feminine and queer person of color, as well as reflecting the experiences and struggles of those who are “othered” in their communities. In their current work, Ganados uses the skatepark and similar spaces to highlight the vulnerability and struggle of empowerment when navigating white male-dominated spaces. @samganados
scrambled eggs is an artist-run collective and gallery based in Las Vegas, Nevada. Started in 2022, scrambled eggs has been working to build artistic permanence in Nevada. The project currently exists in a transitory state, morphing and taking the shape of the spaces we occupy with each program, exhibition, and community event. More interviews from the Scrambled Eggs Artist Interview series can be found here.
Without You Without Them will be on display from October 26 to November 16, 2025 at Mission Spring on 1120 E Fremont St., Las Vegas, NV 89101. Sam’s exhibition will be accompanied by THEM, a group exhibition on DIY and skate culture. It will be on display from November 2 to November 16, 2025 at The Gather House on 1020 E Fremont St., Las Vegas, NV 89101. Both exhibitions will have a shared open reception on Sunday, November 2, 2025 from 12 - 5PM.
Current scrambled eggs exhibitions include: Home Is A Place Rooted Inside My Throat at The Studio at Sahara West Library located at 9600 W Sahara Ave., Las Vegas, NV 89117, on view from August 8 until October 25, 2025; and Cosmic Chicano, a solo exhibition by Brian Martinez at Nuwu Art Gallery + Community Center located at 1331 S. Maryland Pkwy., Las Vegas, NV 89104, on view from September 6 until November 22, 2025.
Contact scrambledeggsgallery@gmail.com for questions or gallery hour information for any current or future exhibitions.
Posted and published by Wendy Kveck on October 15, 2025.