RUBÉN S.Á.N.C.H.E.Z. is a Spanish-Dutch shapeshifter of sound, stage, and style. Born in Leuven (Belgium) and trained in Dance and Music Theatre at the University of the Arts in Amsterdam (2016), he blends pop, performance art, and surreal storytelling into one bold, ever-evolving experience. Think club beats with plot twists, theatrical flair, and unexpected emotion. Whether he’s dancing like a rabbit or diving into inner chaos, Rubén creates a world where freedom, fantasy, and feeling take the lead.

How would you describe your artistic practice, and what are the primary themes in your work?

At the core of my artistic practice, I’m a theatrical storyteller. While I explore many forms, I primarily work as a professional singer and dancer—those are the crafts I focus on most. My work moves between pop performances and experimental art, but always with a theatrical twist.

You might see something that looks like a pop show, but there’s always a deeper layer or unexpected edge—whether it’s a surreal rabbit dance or a commentary on losing your soul to commercial success. I play with reality and fantasy, drawing inspiration from things like The Matrix or imagined worlds, to stretch how we see ourselves and the world around us.

The main themes in my work are the freedom to be who you are, the pressure of culture and expectation, and a playful questioning of what’s real.

What projects are you currently working on, and what inspires you these days?

Right now, I’m focused on creating new music and developing a new musical style that can live beyond the studio—through live concerts and immersive performances. Until 2023, I mainly performed my own work in theatres, but I came to realize that the traditional theatre setting doesn’t fully support the energy of my work. I want the audience to move, dance, and be part of the experience—not just sit in the dark and watch.

Since then, I’ve been performing regularly in dinner shows across Amsterdam, including Supperclub. That environment helped me shift my work more toward the club scene, blending performance art with nightlife energy.
These days, I’m deeply inspired by Spanish music—especially Spanish and Latin American ballads. A whole world has opened up to me, and I’ve started blending Spanish and English in my new songs, discovering a unique sound that feels very personal and exciting.

I’m also obsessed with Nigerian artist @adannaduru. Her ability to jump between vocal styles and fully embody different characters fascinates me—it reminds me how much freedom there is in voice and persona, and that inspires me creatively every day.
I really like to collaborate with musicians producers and singers to really twist and tweak a new language. Right now I’m working on a complete new show where I collaborate with an incredible Venezuelan singer: Ivan Diaze (@ivandiaze). We are performing on 8th of may a complete experimental show: in Lola Lieven (In front of WOW lieven) tickets = https://www.eventbrite.nl/e/latin-rb-pop-showcase-ruben-sanchez-feat-irvin-ivan-tickets-1306089812789?aff=oddtdtcreator !

What are your thoughts on the Amsterdam art scene? How has WOW Amsterdam helped you build new connections?

I first came to Amsterdam in 2011 to study at the Academy of Theatre and Dance (AHK), where I focused on producing theatrical performances. Amsterdam has always felt like the most vibrant and exciting city in the Netherlands, and it drew me in with its creative energy and international outlook.

That said, over time I’ve started to question whether my work truly fits within the Dutch cultural landscape. One thing I’ve noticed is how sharply theatre and club culture are separated here—as if they exist in completely different worlds. My work lives in the in-between: blending performance, music, theatrical storytelling, and nightlife energy. I believe there should be far more spaces and events that allow these disciplines to meet, merge, and evolve together.

While the transition to Amsterdam has offered me a lot—creatively and personally—I’m still exploring where my work can fully thrive. But I’m also excited to help build those bridges myself, and create new spaces where hybrid forms of expression can take center stage.

What challenges do you face when creating new work, and how do you overcome them?
After graduating, how did you adjust to post-student life?

One of the biggest challenges in my creative process is accepting the feeling of starting from zero—again and again. Each new project comes with the temptation to chase some kind of peak or standard, but I’ve learned that the best work doesn’t come from trying to “reach” something.

What’s funny is that when I create a new choreography or write a song and feel hyped about it—like “this is the one!”—it often doesn’t hold up the way I imagined. It’s usually created in a rush of energy, without enough depth. But when I feel unsure, even insecure about a piece, that’s often where the magic happens. It means I’ve tapped into something more sensitive and honest—and I’ve learned to trust that space.

After graduating from the dance department, I quickly realized I’m not someone who thrives as a follower. I want to shape the work I perform—I’m too stubborn and opinionated not to be part of the creative direction. I’ve met artists and choreographers who truly inspire me, but I’ve also encountered many who seem more driven by funding and image than by expression or truth. That’s not the energy I want to be around.

Sometimes, I also try to do too much. I take on so many roles—creating, directing, performing—that I lose focus on simply being the performer. But that’s where the right collaborators come in. I need people around me who also want to speak their truth, who are in it for the expression, not just the paycheck. That’s when the work becomes something real—alive, raw, and worth sharing.

You work as both a dancer and a singer—how do you balance these two disciplines?

I started dancing when I was 15, and I began taking singing seriously around the age of 23. These two disciplines have become the core of how I express myself. I teach dance twice a week, which keeps my body connected to movement and helps me refine my personal style. Dance became a lot more powerful for me once I stopped trying to fit into other people’s ways of moving and embraced my own.

Singing, though, has a different emotional weight. The voice is such a personal, raw instrument—so directly tied to who you are. While dance without music can still be beautiful, music—and especially singing—reaches people on a more profound level. It hits the heart. Because my voice is so linked to my emotions, singing often feels more vulnerable, but also incredibly healing. Every performance feels like I’m reclaiming a part of myself.

What excites and challenges me most is the constant shifting between styles, genres, and identities. That ability to transform—to move from pop to performance art, from theatricality to intimacy—can be thrilling, even a little scary. There’s always a risk in letting go of a fixed identity. But at the same time, it’s also what touches me the most. It reminds me that expression itself is a kind of magic especially something as abstract as music and dance. One that allows us, as humans, to connect across emotional worlds, especially the ways that are not to be understood.

Be who you are, and embrace you being misunderstood.

How do you maintain financial stability in the often unpredictable art world?

Teaching and sometimes I do some gogo dancing or some singing for a wedding or hosting for another event. 

What five key elements do you consider essential for a sustainable artistic practice?

Honestly I don’t take my art seriously, but I do take myself seriously. So I would say art is just me expressing myself. And I know there are a lot of people who think art is more complicated and layered, but I think it’s very simple. But if I should make some elements really central: I would say:
1.Inspiration/ motivation
2. Discipline
3. Creative environment
4. Marketing
5. Friendships/family

Where do you see yourself artistically and personally in the next few years? Do you follow a plan or trust your instincts?

Artistically, I see myself continuing to grow as a live performer—that’s really where my heart is. My focus is on building a community, both online and especially offline, that connects with my music and the energy of my live shows. I want to create experiences that go beyond just listening—something people can feel, move with, and remember.

In the next few years, I hope to tour across Europe, performing in small clubs and intimate festivals, or even joining another artist on tour as an opening act. My dream is to bring the full Rubén Sánchez live experience to more people: theatrical, bold, emotional, and fun.

As for direction—I try to stay open. I have goals, but I mostly follow my instincts. They’ve taken me to surprising places so far, and I trust that they’ll continue to guide me toward where I’m meant to be.

How do you recharge creatively and emotionally?

Oh above all, cleaning my house! The best therapy there is. I recharge creatively mostly by watching other performances and likeminded selfmade musicians. Emotionally by spending time with friends and family.

If you could be reincarnated as a plant or animal, what would you choose and why?

If I could be reincarnated, I’d definitely come back as a dolphin. Not just for the sleek look and VIP access to the deep sea (though that helps), but because diving has always felt like slipping into another reality—a kind of underwater dreamscape I never want to leave.

Dolphins are fast, clever, and cheeky—just the right mix of mischief and brilliance. They play, they flip, they vibe in pods like it’s a never-ending underwater rave. Plus, they seem to genuinely care for each other, which I find beautiful. I like to think of them as the performance artists of the ocean: fluid, expressive, unpredictable—and always in sync with something greater.

So yes, dolphin me would be out there, riding waves, dodging sharks, and choreographing spontaneous sea ballets with my chosen pod of deep-diving weirdos.

Photos by Roman Ermolaev