When he was five years old, Max Pollak had a moment. Sitting in front of a black-and-white television in suburban Vienna, he saw Fred Astaire tap dancing for the first time. “I was so spellbound by his elegance and his effortless swinging persona that I immediately decided I have to learn how to do that,” he remembers. He didn’t understand the cultural context or the language, but he knew that whatever was happening on that screen — the rhythm, the movement, the magic — was s...
When he was five years old, Max Pollak had a moment. Sitting in front of a black-and-white television in suburban Vienna, he saw Fred Astaire tap dancing for the first time. “I was so spellbound by his elegance and his effortless swinging persona that I immediately decided I have to learn how to do that,” he remembers.
He didn’t understand the cultural context or the language, but he knew that whatever was happening on that screen — the rhythm, the movement, the magic — was something he had to pursue.
That moment sparked a lifelong journey that would take him from Austria to Harlem to Havana and back again.
Here, Max Pollak tells the remarkable story of how he taught himself to dance in a place where no formal tap training existed. Early on, improvisation wasn’t just part of his style — it was the only way forward. That instinctive relationship with rhythm would become the foundation of his unique voice as an artist.
At 14, Pollak met his first mentor: Carnell Lyons, a master tap dancer from Kansas City who had relocated to Europe during the civil rights era. Lyons had grown up alongside Charlie Parker and had performed with jazz legends. He passed on not only the technical language of tap, but a deep awareness of the art form’s Black American roots. That relationship shaped the way Max approached dance — not just as choreography, but as culture.
After moving to New York, Max began studying drums and enrolled in Bobby Sanabria’s Afro-Cuban ensemble at The New School. It was there that he was asked the question that would redefine his artistic path: Do you want to tap dance to Cuban music — or do you want to tap dance Cuban music?
Inspired by that challenge, Pollak dove into Afro-Cuban music, learning the language of clave and fusing it with tap, body percussion, and voice. The result was RumbaTap — a groundbreaking synthesis of traditions that bridges continents and cultures. When members of the legendary Los Muñequitos de Matanzas saw Max perform, they asked him to teach them. That moment affirmed the authenticity of his approach and led to collaborations in Cuba that brought him closer to the source of the music he had been drawn to for so long.
Today, Max Pollak is widely recognized as one of the most innovative tap dancers in the world. His contributions to the language of tap, particularly in blending it with Afro-Cuban music and body percussion, have earned him international recognition — including the rare honor of having his image featured on a United States postage stamp. He’s also a vocalist, drummer, composer, and storyteller. This week, he celebrates the 25th anniversary of RumbaTap with a special performance at 92NY, featuring members of Los Muñequitos.
This episode came together unexpectedly, sparked by a tip from bassist and composer Alexis Cuadrado, who sent me the press release for the 92NY concert. I reached out to Max for a short interview — and the conversation turned out to be so rich and wide-ranging that I decided to share it in full.
We talk about lineage, improvisation, spirituality, and what happens when you follow the rhythm only you can hear.
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