We recently connected with Sandra Kluge and have shared our conversation below.

Sandra, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

I started my most meaningful project about five years ago: To compose, record, and perform my own original music in which tap percussion (= tap dance as a music instrument) fulfills the role of the drumset. Pretty much from the start of my tap journey I was always most drawn to the sonic aspect of it. It never really mattered to me what it looked like. The movement for me is there to serve the sound, not more, not less.

So after a few years of working in more traditional tap dance settings, I felt like there’s a specific approach that I’m missing. I felt that tap was most often placed on top of the music, soloing the whole time. I started to feel less and less inspired by that. I don’t have any interest in theatrical work or choreography, yet I connect so deeply with the rhythmic expressiveness of tap.

One thing led to the next and soon I started to fully commit to the path of tap as a music instrument. I started setting up sessions with other musicians in which I took the role of the drumset. I learned that I absolutely love being in the role of an accompanist, and found that this is not something that is often considered in tap dancing. So I spent all day, every day, experimenting with how tap can take this accompanying role – how to provide a steady foundation for the harmonic and melodic structures of a tune or song. Soon I started to explore my voice as a composer, writing music that is built around tap percussion as the core element of the rhythm section. That, in turn, led to getting my first recording gear, working on my piano and vocal skills, and making little beats and songs in Logic, all with my recorded taps.

Fast forward to this year, I am still so incredibly inspired by this umbrella project of original tap percussion music. It fills me with such joy every day and I can truly say that writing tap music, even on my darkest days, is the light that guides me. With this, I have been able to connect to amazing musicians and create exciting new frameworks for tap percussion. I created a solo looping set with taps, vocals, and keys, that I regularly perform around NYC and Europe. I make beats with live and sampled tap percussion. I enjoy meaningful musical interactions while continuously learning about and refining my approach to tap percussion as an accompanying AND soloing instrument.

One of the most meaningful projects I’ve worked on recently is my second single, Misty Rose, which will be released on December 1, 2023. It is an autobiographical snapshot of my journey of blossoming into a young woman on the path of self-love and discovery. With the song, I am exploring the idea of the divine feminine as a nurturing mentor that assists us in connecting with our emotions, thereby harnessing the alchemy of complementary energies present in every single one of us. The cover art, which I designed, incorporates my collage “Let The Divine Feminine Heal You”. It was important to me to seek out female collaborators for this, and I’m so grateful for everyone involved. Aside from Nate Wood who mastered the track, everyone else is female-identifying: Danae Greenfield recorded beautiful piano tracks, Maia Macdonald worked her mixing magic, and Kayleen Bertrand brought the visual component to life through videography and photography.

As much as I am invested in planting this idea that tap can be a fully-fledged music instrument if approached as one, my goal at the end of the day is this: To share my music in the most authentic way possible, to touch peoples’ hearts and souls, to give listeners a sonic safe space, and to inspire them to accept and love all parts of themselves so that they may be a light in this world.

Sandra, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Sure! As I already described a little in the previous question, I am a tap percussionist and composer based in Brooklyn, NY. My work centers around creating frameworks for tap to function as a full music instrument embedded in the rhythm section. This includes composing, recording, and performing projects, both in solo and collaborative contexts.

So how did I get here? And why do I call myself a tap percussionist? Let me start from the beginning:

Born in Bremen (Germany), I grew up in a family of musicians: Both my parents and three of my grandparents are and were professional musicians, in both classical and jazz realms. Music has always been a part of my life, so much so that I didn’t even think about it. It was all I knew. My relationship to it was very informal. I started learning how to play the clarinet with my Dad when I was 9. At age 10, I learned my first tap steps from my Mom, who, at that point, had been tap dancing for about 30 years at that point. The area we lived in – northwest Germany – didn’t really have tap classes so me and my Mom started attending as many workshops as possible whenever teachers were around. This allowed me to study with international master tap dancers, build a network, and be exposed to a wide variety of styles and approaches. In-between workshops, I would practice, improvise, and create by myself which had me form my very own relationship and approach to this art form from a very early age.

I never really cared about the movement or theatrical aspect of tap – to me, the enjoyment always lied in making music with my feet. A pivotal point occurred in 2015 – the year I moved to NY – when I attended Heather Cornell’s Rhythm Tap Intensive. In it, we did an exercise in which guitar player Tony Romano asked us to accompany one blues form with our taps. Everyone failed grandiosely, playing way too much, and soloing instead of accompanying. The seed of tap as a music instrument was already within me at that point, and thus I got so mad for not being able to play appropriately that it sparked my quest of establishing tap as a music instrument that is fully capable of accompanying and can be a part of the rhythm section.

From that moment on, I started making use of all the amazing musicians that congregate in NY. I set up sessions in which we explored how exactly tap can be an accompanying instrument, how it can take the role of the drums. I spent hours and hours practicing, experimenting, refining my craft, with this very goal in mind: I want to be a pocket tap percussionist, in the same way that there are pocket drummers. Not just within jazz, but I also branched out into the realms of neosoul, RnB, songwriter, beats, ambient, electronic music, and more. Eventually I was curious about composing for tap – not as in writing a score that features it as a soloist, but rather embedding it into the rhythm section.

The composing led to recording, and soon I started making beats and songs with tap as the exclusive percussive instrument. No other creative project prior to that has made me feel so inspired, so alive, so expressive, so genuine. It just felt like something clicked. Being a beatmaker, composer, and songwriter with the taps as my foundational starting point. Around that time, I began calling myself a tap percussionist, because it just didn’t feel fitting to say I’m a tap dancer. Because I don’t think like a dancer. I think like a drummer. I don’t choreograph, I compose. I don’t dance to the music, I play it. The movement for me serves one single purpose: To create the exact sound that I want – much in the same way that a drummer needs to be aware of how high to lift the stick in preparation of the sound, or how a piano player needs to consider what body parts initiate the touch on the keys. In line with the Miles Davis quote, “Play the music, not the instrument”, I find that tap percussion is a very embodied way to, in fact, play the music.

The path I am on is one that not many others are on. Which is exciting and challenging at the same time. I feel that the few people who really are on the path of tap as a music instrument all create such different work (which is awesome!) – allowing lots of space for unique expression. It is thrilling to conquer uncharted territory, and I hope to share my music with as many people as possible. Not just because my main instrument is quite unusual, but even more so because through my music I feel like I can express best and connect most effectively. I am also deeply motivated by the idea of how universally impactful music is. Whether it’s the song we play to boost our confidence before an important event, or the song we allow ourselves to cry and release heavy emotions to, or the song that reminds us of a special someone. Best of all, all these songs are readily available to us wherever we are. To see a tap dance performance you have to either go to a theater or pull up a video. But a tap-based piece of music you can just access through your phone and listen to no matter where you are. And that is what I want – for people to take my music with them, and hopefully getting to be a part of someone’s go-to playlists.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Perfectionism. I’ve always been very driven and ambitious and my mind never stops (hello high-functioning anxiety). This certainly has its helpful aspects but as I progressed in my career I noticed that the perfectionist part of me was actually holding me back big time. I am proud to say that, despite many other work-in-progress lessons, I feel that I’ve gotten a good grip on my perfectionism for about a year now.

I knew something needed to change when I, everytime I sat down to practice or create something, felt like I turned into my 5-year-old self who had thrown temper tantrums whenever she lost a game. So much negative self-talk and pressure came up, and if I encountered even the most minor challenges I’d basically tell myself I’m a complete failure and will never be able to learn and accomplish anything. It truly felt like I had lost before even properly trying. I didn’t even know what was more stifling: The perfectionism itself or my anger and shame towards myself for not being able to regulate my emotions in that moment. Of course this didn’t help me feel confident about myself and my work at all, and I slipped into all sorts of toxic thought cycles that involved comparison, jealousy, judgment, self-deprecation, and pretty much all other emotions we don’t like to admit come up.

So how did I get out of this?

By prioritizing quantity over quality. Let me explain:

In those times when I felt I’m not doing anything right I put so much pressure on every single note or idea being pure gold. I wasn’t managing my time super well (majorly due to procrastinating a lot, because who wants to willingly go through another internal tantrum?), and so the times I did sit down to practice and/or create occurred way less than I wanted to (which in turn added to the immense frustration I felt with myself). I was stuck in a cycle of inertia.

Then I remembered: The only way to change is to take action. Not to think about it. So I made a pact with myself to create a little something every single day, with zero expectation for how long it should be or how long it should take me or if I’d want to share it or if I even like it. Slowly but surely, I started noticing a change. Instead of being intimidated by the metaphorical blank page, I reconnected with the joy of creating. “I have to create because it’s my job” turned into “I want to create because it’s fun.” The best way I can explain it is like a gateway drug: I found that, for example, sitting down at the keyboard to practice a little thing for five minutes easily turned into opening a new Logic session and spending three hours making a beat. Realistically, not everything we make or try is going to be amazing. Truthfully, we’re going to hate a lot of it. Say we like about 20% of what we make (a completely arbitrary number). If I create only once a week, that means I will only feel good about my art once every five weeks. If, on the other hand, I create every day, I will feel satisfaction at least once a week.

I realized that, before, I had been putting so much pressure on myself to create only masterpieces that I had lost all sense of joy and free play. By directing my attention away from quality and instead prioritizing the quantity of time I spent with my craft every day, I not only reconnected with the fun of creation, I also got into a positive spiral of confidence. Because I witnessed myself through many many hours of practice, I got a much better idea of what I can do and what I still need to work on. It’s like strength training. I won’t grow muscles if I exercise for five hours once a month. The key lies in consistency. The daily creative habit is now one of the most important elements of my life.

Are there any books, videos, essays or other resources that have significantly impacted your management and entrepreneurial thinking and philosophy?

There are four resources I’d like to mention:

The first one is the book “Free Play” by Stephen Nachmanovitch. It is about “improvisation in art and life” and has greatly informed my approach to both improvisation and creation. One of the key points I take from it is that by imposing a certain limitation on yourself, everything else can flow more freely. So for example when I improvise and limit myself to a certain set of tools I have more freedom to express myself than if I used every single item in my toolkit, which can get overwhelming really quickly. The book expresses in such a profound way how improvisation is not just limited to art forms, but rather that improvisational concepts can be a meaningful way to go about one’s life.

The second is the book “Atomic Habits” by James Clear. It is doubtlessly the most transformational book I’ve read so far in my life. One of its basic principles is the principle that to build sustainable habits, the littlest things add up. That every single action is a vote for the future you want to create. So – to connect this to my previous response on perfectionism – if I want to be a successful creator, I need to build a habit of creating every day. The key is to start small to make the habit stick. So, for example, day 1 I sit down and open a Logic session. Day 2 I record one chord. Day 3 I record two chords, etc. etc. It takes the pressure out and reinforces that this habit, even if it has challenging aspects, is achievable. Aside from valuable insight on building habits, James Clear’s approach offers a plethora of tools to create a more efficient, more joyful, more aligned life that fills us with happiness and purpose. He also has a free weekly newsletter that contains concise and super helpful ideas on living the life you want to live, one tiny action at a time. One of the only newsletters I voluntarily subscribe to.

The third resource is Campbell Walker’s YouTube channel struthless. He makes highly valuable videos and documentaries about topics all creatives can relate to, such as imposter syndrome, productivity, inspiration, and many others. His style is refreshingly unique, and always offers a thought-provoking, new angle on themes that more often than not are subject to self-help platitudes. You can feel how in-depth he goes into every topic he approaches.

And, lastly, I want to mention the Tao Te Ching as a constant guiding resource of inspiration and perspective on life and all its facets.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.sandrakluge.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sandra.kluge
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/sandrakluge
• Other: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=89263950

Image Credits
Taylor Steele, Grégoire Fillion, Ayesha Zangaro