Samantha Linnane grew up in the Seacoast area of New Hampshire on the border of Maine. Her playground was a small wetlands swamp located next to her childhood home. She has always maintained a kinship with nature, and often uses it in her work as reflection of her own state of mind. As a musician, music also plays a heavy hand in her inspiration. She has played americana and folk rock with her husband Peter Linnane as The Farewells since 1999.

Years later, she completed the Graphic Design Certificate Program at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. She started to gravitate away from design and more toward fine art, and branched out into printmaking. She fell in love with the spontaneous and expressive monotype process, as well as the meticulous and intesive process of etching and woodcutting.  She studied printmaking at deCordova Museum school in Lincoln, MA from 2009 until the school closed in 2011. In 2012 she joined the community at ArtSpace in Maynard, MA.

Her work has been shown in various places- deCordova Sculpture Park and Museum, at Gallery Seven in Maynard, Serendipity Cafe, Maynard Public Library, and now is represented by Gallery Seven. 

Influences include-  Monet, Van Gogh, Degas' landscapes, Mary Cassatt, Wayne Thibaud, Alex Katz. Wolf Kahn, Jay DeFeo, Andy Warhol, Nicholas de Stael.   

About My Road Paintings: 

Lyrical metaphor aside, roads are just beautiful things. Winding roads, roads less taken, country roads, roads as seen from my windshield. The rush of speed, the changing seasons, the dynamic weather can make even the least scenic of roads a visual wonder. The dynamic concave pyramidal composition of a road has no end to possible variations. I'm constantly playing with the vanishing point, skewing the suggested "X" composition and abstracting the landscape to achieve a feeling of speed. I try to push the edge of where abstraction meets impressionism.

Why would I take stretches of unremarkable, mundane road and treat it like Yellowstone? These are the roads of my commute.  I have to study them daily, rain or shine. Sometimes baking in the sun, inching along in line, or flying down open highway to the rotary, skidding around in the snow, or zooming through the tunnels of green back roads. I was older than most, 20, when I first got my driver's license. Before that, my modes of transportation were foot, bike, skateboard, and a very unreliable(at the time, mid-late 90's) New Hampshire bus system. I had a full appreciation for independent mobility, that has never really worn off. Nobody loves a traffic jam, but I do love admiring the curve of road slicing through a green open field, or the way the light filters through the trees in a smear of speed. The features of these roadways hardly change outside of the seasons, yet it's never the same road twice. In this way doing these roadscapes remind me of the monoprint process, where a fixed feature on a printing plate remains as a touchstone that each compostion is built around. Recurring characters of trees, houses, bridges and rivers appear in different perspectives, dressed in seasons, imminent weather and sunsets. These are my roads, they belong to me. If it's the road you live on, you've already noticed it's yours, too. It's the bridge you love to see at a distance. It's the spot you always notice as you drive by. It's that feeling of freedom and exhilaration with the windows down.