Katja Ruge: The Artist as Conscience

Katja Ruge is one of those rare people who makes you feel instantly at home. Greeting you with an easy smile that pulls you in before you even realize it. She’s so genuine and kind that you can’t help but relax around her and her laughter is contagious. Behind that openness is a lifetime spent inside music, as a teen, she was riding her Vespa to Northern Soul parties, and her early club days at Hamburg's legendary Front club provided the fundamental schooling in acceptance and community that defines her work.

Ruge's artistic sense of rhythm began long before she set foot in a club, rooted in her childhood above her grandfather’s grocery store, surrounded by scent, sound, and texture. Later, her parents ran their own shop, and she often joined her mother on early trips to Hamburg's market hall, where the high ceilings created vast, echoing acoustics that carried the industrial sounds of the nearby shipyard. That reverb, that “hum of life,” would later remind her of the Haçienda and the feeling of freedom found on the dancefloor.

Her photography work stands as a definitive visual history of the music world, specifically becoming a vital chronicle of the electronic music scene. For over 25 years, she photographed at Golden Pudel Club in Hamburg, which she still calls her home. Capturing iconic names across this and other genres, she translates the raw spirit of the scene (her mission is truly to “see the beat” and “hear a moment”) into images that are both definitive and deeply felt.

What stands out is Katja's natural movement between worlds: club kid, DJ, producer, photographer, and visual storyteller. This integrated approach, where food, sound, and space are intertwined, drives her projects, from her analog-driven work with Can Love Be Synth to Electric Lights - Women in Electronic Music, her immersive planetarium series.

Electric Lights - Women in Electronic Music returns this autumn to Berlin and Hamburg, with Katja performing a DJ set at both locations: featuring a live set by Cinthie at the Zeiss-Großplanetarium in Berlin on October 28th & 29th, and a live set by JakoJako at the Hamburg Planetarium on November 18th & 19th.

For Katja, the role of the artist is not just to decorate society; it is to be its conscience, memory, dreamer, and sometimes even troublemaker to make change. In this feature, Katja connects her mindful approach to food and the stillness and concentration it requires to how she creates her art. She discusses her commitment to community as the most essential form of healing and resistance today.

Q: Are you a breakfast person?

A:Yes, I’m a breakfast person. I drink black tea; I’m a tea person in the morning. Then I have a very specific gluten-free bread from Schär, which is a great brand. I usually eat it very simply: black tea and toast, with some nice sliced radishes. I love a good scrambled egg. I don’t eat sweets in the morning because my blood sugar goes up, and that just doesn’t work for me.

Q: Do you enjoy cooking?

A: Yes, I love to cook, and I do a lot of it. Even though I live alone, good ingredients are essential. I love going to the market and cooking with whatever seasonal vegetables are available. Some of my favorites are beetroot, chicory. I also enjoy fresh lemons, nuts, making humus.

If I've had a solid breakfast, lunch usually comes late, with a snack in between. This snack is typically lactose-free yogurt with chia and other seeds, sometimes topped with seasonal sautéed plums and physalis (groundcherry) with olive oil and a pinch of salt. I’ve learned to take time for food, because it’s worth it; we spend so much of our lives eating, so why waste that time on shitty food? 

I often cook too much and eat the leftovers the next day, which I don’t mind. Lunch tends to be around four, sometimes later if I’m not working. I try not to eat after seven, but if I’m out with friends, I’ll make an exception and keep it light; otherwise, I can’t sleep, and then I end up wide awake on Bandcamp, digging and buying music.

Q: Tell us about your background. Where are you from? 

A: I was born in Delingsdorf, a small, quiet village known for its farms, horse breeding, and strawberry fields. It’s about 20 kilometers northeast of Hamburg.

Q: Did food play a role in your childhood?

A: Yes, very much. My grandfather ran an Edeka store, the local supermarket, in our house in the countryside, so I literally grew up above it. My parents worked there at first, and later they opened their fruit and vegetable shop in a nearby village.

At that time, when my parents had the fruit and vegetable store, I often went with my mother to the market hall in Hamburg before school. I loved it there, the smell, the light, and especially the sound. The halls were huge, with high ceilings that created this beautiful metallic echo. Years later, when I spent time at the Haçienda, I recognized that same reverb and energy. It reminded me of those early mornings at the market, and maybe that’s why I’ve always loved reverb.

Later my father had a cheese shop in the market hall, you can say I grew up in the market. I was the first one to bring kiwis and avocados to school. In my teens I worked at the market every Saturday and used the money I earned to buy records.

I also have very fond memories of my grandmother. She was always waiting for me after school with food. Her tomato soup with rice was the best, so simple, but made with good ingredients. She also made meatballs in tomato sauce or with capers (Königsberger Klopse) and a delicious chicken soup. To this day, homemade chicken soup is still my favorite meal.

Q: Do you have a favorite family recipe?

A: My mom cooked her own version of my grandmother’s chicken soup, and I do a version of both. It’s still one of my favorite things to cook. There’s also a lemon cake I remember from my father’s sister, where I sometimes stayed as a kid. It was baked very thin, almost flat, and I loved it. I bake it now and then.

I also had a cookbook my parents gave me as a present. All the recipes were measured with mugs instead of scales or cups, which made it really fun to cook from.

Q: What part of cooking do you enjoy the most? 

A: I love the sound, like when something starts to bubble in the pan or pot. That moment always feels special. And of course, cooking together with music playing can already feel like a party. But honestly, I prefer cooking on my own. I love it because the whole noise around me shifts. It becomes a rhythm of its own.

Q: Do you listen to music while cooking? 

A: Actually, I prefer not to have music playing in the background. I'm really concentrated, and I like the stillness and silence. My current kitchen is too small, suitable only for one person to cook and maybe two people to sit. In a former flat, however, I had a bigger kitchen where my flatmate and I cooked together and created more of a party feeling.

Q: What is Hamburg’s most famous dish? 

A: Hamburg’s most famous dish is the Fischbrötchen, a classic fish sandwich with herring, matjes (soused herring), or smoked salmon, onions, pickles, and a tangy sauce in a crusty roll, rooted in the city’s seafaring tradition.

Q: Can you recommend a couple of your favorite restaurants in Hamburg?

‍A: Sakura Sushi, one of the few truly authentic Japanese spots in the city. It’s inexpensive and perfect for a quick lunch. ONO in Eppendorf is another favorite for sushi. I don’t make sushi myself, but I love it, which is why I point out these two places.

Then there’s Lühmanns Teestube in Blankenese. They have the best scones with clotted cream, incredible cakes, and excellent pies. My favorite dish there is Senfeier with potatoes (German eggs in mustard sauce), a very northern German classic.

Q: Did music play a role in your family? Are your parents music fans?

A: Yes, music definitely played a big role in my family. My parents were really into it, and they took me to concerts from early on. My first big show I went to with my father was Depeche Mode in Hamburg in 1984. That concert was actually recorded. It’s rare to have a concert from that time on record, and I was there. Later, when I was about 18, I smuggled in my camera and took my first blurry concert photos of Depeche Mode.

With my parents, I also saw Elton John and Tina Turner. I was lucky; the music I liked, they liked too, so we went together. With my father, I also discovered smaller bands, like The Housemartins. And then I was even luckier: I had a close friend who was five years older, and she introduced me to more edgy music and took me clubbing for the first time.

But my very first dancing experience was even earlier, back in my village. Every summer we had the Dorffest, the village festival, and dancing was the big thing. At first, it was just about being part of it, but I quickly realized I was drawn to the edgier sounds. In the ’80s, everything was mixed anyway; bands like The Clash, The Cure, and New Order were in the charts alongside pop divas like Whitney Houston. The music felt more open and diverse than it does now.

Q: What kind of music did you listened to growing up and what was your earliest clubbing experience?

A: My first love, music-wise, was synthpop, Depeche Mode, The Human League, New Order, and so on. But I was also a scooter girl. I had a Vespa and went to a lot of Northern Soul nights. Some of my first proper dances were out in a field somewhere to Northern Soul.

Back then there was just so much music, and we went out all the time. At 16 or 17, even though I lived in the countryside, I’d stay with friends in Hamburg and go out three or four nights a week. That was normal. The club was the community; it was the center of the universe.

When I was 17, I went on holiday to Miami with my parents. I had a Sony Walkman with a built-in radio and a record button, and at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I listened to the local stations. That’s where I first heard house music. It was entirely new to me, and I thought, wow, this combines everything I already love, but in a totally different way.

When I got back home, a friend took me to a club called Front, a gay club in Hamburg. My friend thought I wouldn’t get in, but of course I did. I looked pretty cutting edge at the time, I had short white-blonde hair, Doc Martens, and a bomber jacket. I was a scooter girl, so I had the style. I was only 17, but they let me in. And then I realized, oh my God, they’re playing the same music I heard in Miami. 

From that moment on, I went there every Wednesday and Saturday. I was a happy girl; it was heaven for me. Dancing until nine in the morning, then going straight to school or work.

Q: What did you learn from your early club days at Front?

A: Front was hugely influential for me. It showed me how diverse people can come together, whether you’re gay, lesbian, straight, or whatever. On the dance floor, there were no boundaries. Music brought everyone together, and I learned that deeply there.

Q: Do you remember the first camera you bought?

A: Yes. I bought it with money my mother inherited from her father. It was a Nikon FE2, and I still own it and use it today.

Q: When did your photography career begin?

A: It started when I was in graphic design school and did an internship at a photo lab. They later hired me as a lab technician. The lab was also a photo agency, and one day my boss said, “You’re going to all these concerts and parties anyway, so take a camera with you.” I thought, why not. I was already interested in photography because of my work, but I hadn’t seen it as something I could actually do.

He pushed me into it, and I started photographing live bands when I was about 18 or 19. I only worked there for nine or ten months, but during that time I took a lot of live photos, sometimes four concerts a week, already for clients. I wasn’t experienced, and I was always the only woman. There were no role models for me back then.

I was always dressed up because after the shows, I went straight to the clubs. People laughed and said things like, “Who is she? Does she want to be a groupie?” I heard that a lot. I didn’t care. But of course, some people thought I was just there for attention or chasing pop stars. I proved them wrong!

Q: You later moved to Manchester during the height of the rave scene. How did that experience influence you as a photographer?

A: I first went to England with a friend during the rave years. We went on holiday, loved it, and she decided to stay. A few weeks later, I followed and ended up living in Manchester for two and a half years. It turned out to be one of the most influential times of my life.

At first, I was lost. My English wasn’t great, so I spent the first couple of months hiding in my flat, watching Coronation Street to learn the language. The accent didn’t make it easy.

Eventually, I found work with Peter J. Walsh, a photographer for NME, The Face, i-D, and Factory Records. I showed up with a shoebox full of photos, and he liked my work. He wasn’t much older than me, but he was already established and introduced me to everyone in the scene, I met so many artists through his studio. I also assisted when Kevin Cummins photographed the Happy Mondays in straitjackets for NME.  

Peter also took me to the Haçienda, both at night and during the day, for shoots with bands like M People. Seeing that club empty was surreal. I already knew good clubs from my days at Front in Hamburg, so I arrived a bit cocky, but Manchester’s energy was something else.

I also went to a lot of illegal raves. I had a car with German plates, so my friends joked that we’d never get ticketed. I didn’t drink or take drugs, so I was always the driver and honestly, I probably had the most fun.

Q: Do you think that DJing or developing film is like cooking? 

A: Absolutely.

Q: When working on a photo shoot, what do you look for in your subject?

A: My goal is that every photoshoot is an enjoyable experience for everyone involved. 

Q: What do you enjoy more, elaborate studio setups or spontaneous outdoor shoots? 

A: I like spontaneous outdoor and indoor shoots.

Q: What led you to quit live photography?

A: I stopped doing live photography because the light just became ugly. The moment LED lights took over concerts, it was game over for me!

Q: You have photographed some of the most important acts in electronic music. In your opinion, how has the scene changed? What have you noticed, especially with the new generation of electronic artists? 

A: The scene has become more diverse and fluid. A new generation of artists is crossing genres, highly aware of visuals, and building complete artistic worlds. I also notice a stronger sense of community returning, with more women and FLINTA artists gaining visibility, which brings a very positive shift of energy.

Of course, the other side exists as well: too many phones, people not dancing, little space for young artists to experiment and grow, and the constant pressure of social media. You can easily get lost in all that noise. But that’s not what I’m here for, it will happen anyway. The choice is whether you let yourself get distracted or not.

I wish people were more open to partying together, without barriers. And I hope the younger generation takes more time to truly learn about music. You can’t explain Techno in a TikTok. History is far more complex than that. 

Q: Are you a vinyl collector?

A: No, not anymore. My vinyl collection was stolen a long time ago. It was a pretty good one, mostly consisting of vinyl I brought back from England. It included some cult records, especially from the rave era, and a lot of happy hardcore and similar music. Nowadays, I get records sent, and I make records with my friend Frank Husemann as Can Love Be Synth.

Q: When did you start DJing?

A: I first learned to DJ in 1991, when I was living in England. My flatmate had a full setup with Technics turntables and a proper mixer, and he said, “If you want to learn, go for it.” I was fascinated by blending tracks and finding that moment when two records meet perfectly. Many of the records I practiced on were later stolen, but that’s how I learned.

England at that time was incredible for electronic music. The energy was raw, open, and full of experimentation. It wasn’t just about clubbing but about community and discovery. I became friends with people connected to Warp Records, who were redefining what electronic music could sound like. That atmosphere shaped me deeply and changed how I listened to and felt music.

When I returned to Germany, everything felt different. I came home full of this new energy, but here the scene was dominated by trance, which didn’t speak to me. Some of it I liked, but most of it felt too polished and far from the edge I’d found in England. I had friends who threw smaller parties, and I loved listening to music with them, but it didn’t fully click. Around that time, I met my boyfriend, who was into rockabilly, jazz, soul singers, obscure ’80s, and new wave bands. That opened another world for me, and for a while, I stopped DJing altogether.

Back then, there were hardly any women behind the decks in Germany. I didn’t have role models to look up to, and the few I saw weren’t part of the world I related to. It wasn’t until I was 35 that I started again. My friend Julia in Hamburg asked if I wanted to DJ with her. At the time, a lot of new bars were opening, and they hosted open-deck nights where anyone could try their hand at DJing. We thought, why not? We played indie rock and dance tracks, and it just felt right. Later, I joined Julia and another friend in their collective LOVEGANG. We started hosting parties in bars, and they grew quickly. Suddenly, the nights were packed, and the music felt alive again.

After LOVEGANG, everyone moved on to different projects, but I wanted to continue. I loved bringing people together through music. Around 2010, minimal techno was everywhere, and I found it too sterile. I wanted something warmer, more emotional. My friend Frank once joked "Kann Denn Liebe Synthie Sein? (Can Love Be Synth) and it became the party and band name. We launched it at Golem, a new club in Hamburg that was half bar, half secret venue hidden behind a bookshelf. I hosted parties there for years, mixing live acts with DJ sets from Cosmetics, Essaie Pas, The KVBand and creating nights that felt free and unpredictable.

The artists who played, the energy, the afterparties at my flat, it was all part of the magic. I even booked Cinthie early on, before she became one of the most exciting names in house music. We didn’t play the same style, but we both loved the idea of breaking rules and playing what felt right. That spirit of freedom and connection has stayed with me ever since.

‍Q: What’s your preferred DJ setup?

A: I started out on vinyl, of course, but when CDJs came along, I couldn’t connect with them. They felt too clinical. Then a friend installed Traktor on my new laptop, and suddenly it made sense. I loved how visual it was, how I could see and shape the sound. It’s still what I use today. People sometimes laugh because Traktor isn’t considered “cool,” but it suits me. It’s tactile and expressive, and it lets me play with layers, texture, and emotion. Especially since I started producing with my friend Frank at the Synthesizer Studio in Hamburg, it feels like a natural extension of how I hear music; alive, intuitive, and full of movement.

Q: When DJing, how do you curate your sets? Is it based on the club, the sound system, the time slot, the crowd, or do you just trust your instinct? 

‍A: It’s really a combination of everything, and it can change any second while I’m playing, I can suddenly move in another direction. 

With Electric Lights - Women in Electronic Music it’s, of course, much more themed, since I have a very specific setting. Some music simply doesn’t work there, though that might just be me and my own limitations. 

One thing I always do: after every DJ set, I delete the iTunes folder I curated for it. I always start from scratch when preparing. For me, I need to clear the space before I can begin something new. So there are not a million playlists in my folder from old sets. It means more work, but it's something I enjoy, and I feel then the music is way more a reflection of me rather than from a party that already happened. 

Q: How did Electric Lights - Women In Electronic Music begin, and what can the audience expect?

A: For me, space has always been connected to the big questions, where do we come from, where are we going? When I was little, it really bothered me. I don’t just see space as stars and planets, but as a symbol of creation and endless possibility. I often think of it as “Mother Universe,” a protective, guiding, feminine force that holds both light and darkness. That’s probably also why I connect so strongly with electronic music. Like space, it’s free, constantly transforming, and it follows intuition rather than rules. For me, it’s the sound of openness and connection, the same energy I feel when I look up into the universe.

So it felt natural that I always wanted to do something in a Planetarium, even if it took me 12 years until it finally happened. The evening always begins with my Electric Lights photo project. The dome fills with portraits of the women I photographed for it, and as they fade, I start to play. I am always the first performer of the night, and then my guest takes over. In both Hamburg and Berlin, the performances offer seated viewing, you lean back and immerse yourself in 360° full dome visuals, with lights and lasers provided by the planetariums, combined with specially curated electronic music DJ or live sets. Between the two sets there’s a break, you can stay in your seat, watch the portraits or step outside for a drink. 

Now, Electric Lights - Women in Electronic Music has become a living, breathing experience. Each edition grows and changes with the artists involved. The Berlin show this year focuses more on visual storytelling, pairing Cinthie’s house-driven energy with my spacey electronic sound. Everything is performed live, no pre-recordings, no edits, which means things can go wrong, and that’s part of the beauty.

We’ve had incredible women play, from Helena Hauff, whom I did the first event with. Also, Lena Willikens, Joyce Muniz and JakoJako, each bringing her own energy. They all stay at my place when they play in Hamburg, so it becomes this intimate, sisterhood kind of thing. It’s personal, raw, and real. I dream of expanding it to Bochum next year, maybe even bigger collaborations, but the essence will always stay the same. Electric Lights is about connection, with sound, space, and the people who come to listen. It’s spiritual, a bit shamanic even, because when you’re lying under the stars inside that dome, you start thinking about what truly matters. And then you just let go.

Q: How did Can Love Be Synth begin?

A: Can Love Be Synth began about 10 or 11 years ago as a hobby project when I started producing music with my friend Frank Husemann from the Synthesizer Studio Hamburg. For me, it's not about planning  albums; we simply go into the studio when ideas strike.

The studio is a collector's paradise, a “museum” owned by Frank and his partner, Sunny, they are lifelong collectors. It is hidden behind the gray walls of the Bunker and Club Uebel & Gefährlich. We have a heavenly setup there, with over 50 analog synthesizers. While I personally only own a nice System 100 and a 606, I have access to every synthesizer you can imagine because they are all right there. It's crazy; I can make musicians jealous when I say, “Oh, we used the Jupiter 8 for that track!”.

We got together to enjoy the machines and sounds, and before we knew it, we were doing remixes for major artists such as Erasure, Cerrone, Ruede Hagelstein, Polly Scattergood, and Cada Un. We have released music on labels like Bordello A Parigi, Ombra INT, TAU, A CLEAN CUT, and Figure Music. Our passion for these vintage analog synthesizers is intense, and those machines truly define the Can Love Be Synth sound.

Q: Can Love Be Synth’s Portrait was recently released as JakoJako’s curated release Hardwired on Air Texture. How did this come about? 

‍A : JakoJako asked me if Synthesizer Studio Hamburg / Can Love Be Synth can contribute, and we had this song almost ready. 

‍Q: Are there more releases from Can Love Be Synth scheduled for this year?

A : In November, a remix for Garlands, an all female guitar indie shoegaze band from Hamburg. They were quite happy with the remix. We also have one very nerdy track that I am currently looking for a label for. I already have a video for it, which was created by students in Berlin as part of a video program course run by my friend, Maja Classen. I have to see what the next step is, but it is easy nowadays; you can just put it out on Bandcamp if you like.

Finding time to work together can be a challenge. Frank is very busy with his work as a sound engineer and his involvement with Fridays For Future, so I always have to check when I can fit into his schedule.

Q: Any artists or musicians that you are excited about right now? 

‍A: In no particular order and very diverse, here’s my Bandcamp, KTmelodies, Zobol, Ishome, Aja, Rina Pavar, KDYN, Tony y Not.

Q: Our final question, what is an artist's role in society, especially right now? 

A: For me the role of the artist is not just to decorate society, it’s to be its conscience, memory,  dreamer and also sometimes troublemaker to make change. They also bring meaning to chaos, create spaces for community and that means healing to me and open visions of new possibilities. 

There are people who want us to believe the world is completely fucked, but when you actually go outside and meet others, you feel something different. There’s still beauty and hope. I see it in my work as a curator at MOMEM, the Museum of Modern Electronic Music in Frankfurt for FEMC - FLINTA* Electronic Music Conference in February 2026. It’s easy to get caught in the narrow world that social media creates, where everything feels controlled and limited. Real freedom comes when you go out, meet people, and mix with others who are different from you. That’s where inspiration lives.

This is also why I do my summer daytime parties at a space called Kolorado Creative Playground by Karl Anders. They’re about community and connection; spaces where people of all ages and identities can come together. Trans, non-binary, hetero, young, old, it doesn’t matter. Last year, my father danced with my gay friends, and that moment, said it all. That’s what art and music should do: bring us back to each other.

‍Q: Katja, thank you so much for your time and for being part of The DJ Cookbook!

A: Thank you, it was my pleasure.

Follow Katja Ruge on Instagram.

Listen to Can Love Be Synth.