I am Karen Kohler — artist, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, immigrant, dual citizen. I moved from Germany at age 5 when my father, an airline executive, was transferred to New York. As a shy child, I had a curiosity about people and was often admonished for staring. Already then, I was developing a key muscle of the actor’s trade – observation.
The Bavarian Alps near Munich enframe my oldest sense memories; at the ocean’s edge of Long Island I came of age. I’ve since lived in deserts, mountains and world cities. I’ve moved so often that my possessions must now pass the test of well-used or well-loved. I’ve known bullying and I’ve known worship. I’ve stood on the shores of multiple identities.
Singing has saved my life a few times.
Taking someone else’s staggeringly well-written song into my mind, heart and body is each time a divine challenge to which I have learned to give everything I have. Performance as an art of transformation dawned on me the first time I experienced what it is like to hold a room of listeners at the edge between light and dark and bring my vision across with the flick of a leather-lined finger.
I am an intimist. I’ve chosen intimacy as my path through self to others. With historic models and no models, I forge my path to freedom swinging between messy and glamorous, giddy and morose, barefoot and well-heeled. I’ve been prepared to break myself apart for more clarity and insight. Radical intimacy in both art and love.
My intention for my life, my art, and all my relationships, is to learn to ask the better questions and surrender into their answers.
I follow key changes.
As Singer
Singing big songs in small spaces is what I love most to do. I sing jazz, but am not really a jazz singer. I’ve got blues in my veins, but am not a blues artist per se. I sing folk-rock but am neither a folk nor rock singer. I sing show tunes and while Cabaret is a Broadway show, I sing not a single song from it. It’s the Paris-born, Berlin-bred artform called cabaret that has been my artistic focus for 30 years now. As a genre it comes closest to what I channel, and yet it too is not entirely the thing. What’s it all about?
Intimacy. Story. Tapping universal truths. Having my audience close to me. That’s what I’ve done consistently in rooms around the world. I’m a ROOM artist. Yes! I sing ROOM music. ROOM is my genre, as I coined it in the winter of 2018. Read more about that origin story here.
ROOM is universal. It’s a space for jazz and blues and cabaret and folk. For the classical of the salons and the bluegrass of the saloons. Content is key; the message is the vehicle. As a story singer, I bare my soul though a kaleidoscope of feeling and intention ~ from the ugly, hard and dangerous to the soft, sanguine and sensual. Every on-stage gesture, motion, sound and glance is a kind of gate for me.
ROOM etiquette puts the art first, and the artist and audience as stewards of it. It’s a here-and-now experience. A ROOM audience listens and is in turn heard. I can hear you breathing as I breathe. I hear you gasp, chuckle, moan, laugh, cry. Into this vessel and alongside my various songs by the world’s great songsmiths, I’ve begun introducing my own words. Drawn directly from my writing life, I sprinkle my own lyrics into my newest Shows and through my music label, Ars Intima. I welcome stage artists of all stripes and types to my workshops in the art of ROOM.
Remember it: ROOM, the great big art of the small. Are you one of us?

As Writer
When I launched this website in 2019, I put my own writing into the world. Like many of you, I’ve kept a journal since I was a teenager, documenting my headaches and heartaches, as well as joys and insights and budding wisdom. I still journal, still love writing by hand with a juicy pen on just the right quality of paper. I can’t imagine anything ever replacing the human need to write by hand. Handwriting is a signature, a meditation, a statement, and imprint. Utterly, entirely unique.
In 2019, I released The Corpses, my first novella, and Petrichor, my first collection of poetry. Self-publishing was altogether a sweet process and, in every way, a birthing.
I first began blogging in the late 90s. You followers of The Art of The Boards will find those old entries preserved in this blog…my earliest tales from the road, tools of the theater, and tips on how to gradually master stagecraft.
I continue to muse and blog about life and craft. Like what a wild ride it is to cultivate a 30-year marriage in this day and age. And what sustains an international singing career, rich with meaning but short on conventionally endorsed measures of wealth. How to champion the indwelling artist. How to age gracefully. How to companion the generation leaving and the one coming in. Slowly and surely, I’m introducing my evolving theory of such themes as: the essential Me One, the Force Beyond Opposites (beyond balance), what a Flow Gate is, and what I mean by 100:50.
Another poetry collection is ready. My own lyrics are here, and my translations of others’ lyrics (I’ve translated some 30 songs over the years) and others’ poems (Goethe, Rilke, Nietzsche). And the memoirs are coming – one in stagecraft, another in the art of love. First on deck – a eulogy tool. A book for those working on legacy projects in the end-of-life space – caregivers, hospice workers, death doulas, chaplains, funeral directors, anyone will one day die. What? Wait. How did this happen?
I left Brooklyn for Vermont in the winter of 2021 to care for an elder parent. Here in the mountains near Killington is where I’ve found the peace to do a life review, and where my writing life has blossomed and I as writer and speaker. In 2024, I received my certification training as an End-Of-Life Doula through the University of Vermont. Eulogy Me, my first memoir, is inspired by my experience navigating the death of a close aunt in Germany in 2023. The last 5 years have been a season of dying. But then death has always been a part of my artistry.
As Guide
In January 2017, I brushed up rather violently against the fragility and impermanence of life in a near-death experience. My urge to impart what I experienced about illness and pain as both guide and healer became especially keen. I longed more than ever to witness and endorse another’s creativity, self-inquiry and what I call innergration.
I’m a resistant learner, sometimes a stubborn sceptic. Lessons have come as rude awakenings as a result. They’ve taught me about the servant forces of life, like fear itself that fuels the swift and lasting change both personally and communally.
I was once quite shy around strangers and didn’t speak a lot. I lived a lot in my imagination. I was a foreigner, immigrant, outsider. Those of you who have ever been seen as different will especially understand this turning inward into a safe place in the mind. Today, I own my voice. I still stare and I still imagine with abandon.
I’ve been that person working in a job that wasn’t on track for me, that was leading me away from myself. Today I look back on a prosperous and meaningful career doing what I love. The money has always followed and the support, the “team”, has always been there.
I’ve been that woman looking for myself in other people. Today I celebrate 3 decades of marriage and partnership.
You, my students are creative, exploratory, inquisitive and curious, original, self-aware and ready to take it deeper which is why you’re here. I’m dedicated to helping you, the Stage Artist find your path and calling. I’m committed to helping you, the Life Artist reclaim your creativity and Ur-inspiration with a childlike curiosity and joy. To help you tell your story, I have a chest of time-tested tools to share. Tools of self-inquiry, self-ownership, self-embrace and self-reflection through connection.
When you’re ready, reach out to me through the Contact page.
As Gatherer
The world is a good place. It is more good-filled, light-filled and love-filled than anything else.
I believe wholeheartedly in the Life Artist. I believe that we each carry our answers within us and that we’re all here to walk each other home. Connection is essential to living an artful life.
I believe in freedom. I believe that both love and art must be free. We are a species on a planet on which all life is interconnected. We are at the page-turn between stories. That time is here, everything has been leading to it and will lead from it. I intend to play my part by calling “curtain” on the unconscious drama and begin the shift within. In the name of this new story of our world, I offer my personal guidance, meditations, workshops, interviews, and more.
As gatherer, I open up avenues of engagement for those of you who thrive on intimate dialogue with kindred travelers. This site is about stories – yours, mine and ours – sung, spoken, written and danced. May they tickle your fancy, provoke your mind, compel your heart and lift your spirit. This site is for our community. A beloved community (to quote MLK), rudely awakened. Rudewoke.
Communilumina is my name for our community, awake and lit from within.
I invite you to follow me on social media where I post my Rudewoke Wisdom (quotes and tips to stimulate your creativity), and announce new episodes of my podcast, The Rudewoke Sessions (stories from the collective, and interviews with the artists of life who grace my path).