A conversation with Trevor Hall

Prior to his performance at The Agora Theater on Friday, March 22nd, Trevor Hall took some time out of his day to sit down and share some of his perspective on his journey and experience of music. His calm and grounded presence entered the room before he did and it did not take long before I felt like I was sitting on the couch having a conversation with an old friend. The time spent with Trevor Hall and the words and stories he shared left a lasting impression, as well as a bit of awe that someone of his peaceful and unassuming nature can put on a show with the intensity he delivered that evening. 

From a very young age you were surrounded and supported in the world of music and it has been a long journey that has brought you here, where you are now. Throughout that journey what do you feel has had some of the greatest impacts or influences on bringing you to where you stand today?

I think that it probably had to be my parents, really. My Dad is a musician and that’s kind of how the seeds got planted, I guess. And to have music in my environment at such a young age, because when we are children we really soak things up. I think that was extremely, extremely important and extremely foundational, ya know. Just to have access to music, and so many different instruments, and different styles of music.

I think as my journey advanced… they didn’t only provide the seed, you know. In high school my dad let me record my first album for my birthday… just to have that experience! And then to be able to go to a school where I could study music, in high school, at a boarding school was really because of them too. And I think it was just because of their constant love and support. That was definitely the most pivotal, foundational, supportive environment I could have been in, ya know.

I mean, I probably would have found music another way… if they weren’t that way. But they definitely made it easy for me… and special for me to be soaked in it from a young age.

One of the things that I’m really struck by with your music is how it crosses into and is so connected to you, and your spirituality, and your persona. Your music and your spirituality, and just your life, has taken you across the world. How do you feel those experiences have contributed to and influenced your musical expression?

Well… very much so. I think when I started – I guess… I don’t know how to say–walking on this spiritual path… 

You know, music ISmy place of spirituality. I don’t know anything much more spiritual than sound. And I think that a lot of us can agree. It’s one of those things that can just take us into a place where we don’t really… uh, we don’t have the room to kind of reason and understand. I think that’s really healthy, ya know. So I think even before I kind of got more into yogic philosophy and meditation and these kind of things, music was definitely that place for me to explore my subconscious.

But then when I started walking on the path of trying to be a yogi—I mean this term is thrown around so loosely these days, but it’s a serious path of trying to find out who you are and your essence. The music definitely took a shift of focus when I started, ya know, I guess… on the path.

Music is sound and it is energy, right? But it can be used for so many different things, ya know. It can be used to express anger. And when you do it through music it’s really powerful, right? It can be used to express hate. It can be used to express love, and this and that. It’s like wherever the arrow of the artist’s perception is pointed music definitely illuminates that area. So for me… I wanted to aim that arrow within. And try to illuminate my own consciousness… my own self, my true self. And that’s kind of always been, I think, the focus of my music. 

And, I think to, kind of, more answer your question… when I did start my spiritual path, it greatly… the music became a way for me to express my love of spirit and my love of unity and the higher self—and to be filled with jubilation for those spaces. And also, to express the trials and tribulations of trying to walk on that path. It definitely took a massive shift… from writing about which girl I liked in high school to “what is the meaning of life” (with laughter).

You get up in front of all these people and your music IS so personal and spiritual… I’m curious to hear what you have to say about the experience of sharing this very inner part of you in a very public arena.  As you were talking about the jubilation… I can see that as a celebration. I would like to hear about what your experience is in being on stage and sharing YOU with those before you.

I mean, I don’t know. I think that for me I’ve always been comfortable with sharing… with opening up and sharing in that way. I think there are some artists; they aren’t so comfortable with this and that. I definitely have my moments of being nervous, and these types of thing. But it is in that place of sharing that I see the full cycle… the full process of the song. Because the song comes from the void… the great space… or whatever it is. And it’s communicated through this body to other bodies and it’s like… that void also lives within all those other people. So it’s like it comes from the Mother, it goes back to the Mother. It’s like a full cycle for me, ya know. 

So it is in those spaces of sharing that I feel complete in the process. I am eager to share. I am eager to express. It’s like, I don’t know what’s coming through. I’ve been given this. I want to share it. 

To not be so up in the clouds here, even when I write a new song it’s just excitement because it makes me feel good. And I want to share with people what makes me feel good. So there’s a lot of different elements that come into play. But, yeah, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t love it. And that moment of being up there and playing these songs. 

My favorite part is when it’s all clicking and it’s all flowing well, you know, there is no more performer… there’s no more audience. The walls come down and it’s just this kind of togetherness and we’re all experiencing this vibration, I guess. And that’s a moment that can’t be bought. It can’t be forced. It’s a special moment. I livefor that moment. I want that moment all the time… but I can’t have it all the time.

I would love to hear one of your favorite stories or experiences from performing or touring… or a moment that is very special to you in your experience of live music (and travel).

I think one of the most amazing moments for me… Well…

I was in India and I was learning from this Indian musician called a Baul. It’s a group of people in Bengal. They are like spiritual seekers, but they are singers. They are like minstrels. I had, kind of, become adopted by this one Baul. And I would ride my bike to his house in the village, like, every day and just sit with him all day and he would sing songs, and I would write them down, and I would record them, and then I’d sing them back to him. Like this, he was teaching me these songs. And then one night he said, “I’m playing concert tonight… in the cremation ground. Do you want to come with me?” And instantly I said, “Of course I want to go.” It was New Years Day, or the next day… I think it was New Years Day. 

So we go to this place and… Indian cremation grounds are kind of holy. So all sorts of things happen there… people eat there, they hang out, they listen to music, or whatever, like this. So we show up at this place and it’s nighttime and he’s getting ready. And he said, “I want you to come up on stage with me (he had like 5 other musicians with him) and you can just sit and play the cymbals” – these small cymbals called kartals. And I was like, “Oh okay.” I wasn’t prepared for that, but I was like okay. 

So we come out to this outside cremation ground in this grove of trees right on the Ganga, the river. And I am the only white person there—we’re kind of out there in Bengal. And we get up on stage and he’s talking in Bengali and I’m kind of following what he’s saying. He starts talking about me and I’m like, “What? What’s going on?” And then he turns to me and says, “You sing first.” Like, you open the night. And I’ve got all these Bengali people staring at me… these villagers. And I’m like, “Oh my… What do I do?” So I just sang the first thing that came to mind… this little prayer, it was like 30 seconds long, or whatever. And I was SO nervous. And they all clapped afterwards. And then he started and he sang until like two in the morning, or something. But I think just that moment of being in that space—you couldn’t imagine it—to be so far out, and for him to do that. That was a pretty special moment. I remember that very well.

I’ve talked to you about your experience and what it means to you. But in giving your music and your art to others—to the people who hear you—what would you hope that people would take away from your music or from seeing you live? What would you hope that you are giving and that they are receiving?

Well I—it sounds kind of strange—but, I don’t hope for anything. Because I don’t really feel like I am giving, ya know. It’s kind of a weird place to be. 

I think that music is special and powerful because it can be so many different things to that person. The same song can mean two opposite things to two separate people. And that’s the beauty of music… the song remains itself. And if people want to come to the show or listen to the music and just dance and have fun… I want them to have that. If people want to go deeper inside themselves, and have some kind of experience… I hope the music assists them in that. I feel like, if I hope and I have something, like, “Oh, I want people to get this”… I am inserting myself. I am inserting my ego, or something, into the experience and then it doesn’t remain pure. So, for me… I don’t hope anything. 

I guess the only thing I do hope is that it is, obviously, something positive, whatever that may be… if it inspires them… or if it loosens them up… or opens their heart… or whatever it is. I just want them to have their own experience. And I obviously only want the music to bring something good, ya know. 

So yeah… I just try to let it flow. (laughs)

Check out more images and the story from Trevor Hall’s show at the Agora Theater.