Connor Young’s musical journey is a testament to both versatility and heartfelt artistry. Hailing from Vermont, this trumpeter, composer, and educator has carved out a distinctive path—one that weaves through the worlds of contemporary jazz, folk, and beyond. After honing his craft at McGill University’s renowned Jazz Performance program in Montréal, Connor has flourished as a dynamic performer and collaborator across Vermont’s vibrant music scene. With two acclaimed albums to his name—Flight of the Starlings and From Me to You—Connor continues to push creative boundaries, blending genres and personal storytelling in ways that resonate deeply with listeners and critics alike. We had the pleasure to speak with Connor about his career and latest projects.
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Connor, it’s a pleasure to catch up. Thank you for agreeing to speak with Occhi Magazine. Can you share a defining memory from your childhood in Vermont that first drew you into the world of music? Was there a moment you realized music was more than just a pastime?
One defining moment came when I was in eighth grade and attended a summer jazz camp that focused on Latin jazz. It was there that I met one of my first mentors, Ray Vega. For the first time, I saw someone play the trumpet—the same instrument I played—at a truly professional level. Not only did I get to hear him perform, but I also had the opportunity to take lessons with him. That experience opened my eyes to what was possible with music. It shifted my perspective from seeing music as just a pastime to realizing it could be something I could pursue with real passion and commitment.
Your musical journey began at a young age—what role did your family or community play in nurturing your early passion for music?
My mom is the whole reason I ended up choosing the trumpet—she loves this story and reminds me of it often. When I entered middle school, every student had the option of either a study hall in the library or joining the band. Naturally, as a middle schooler, I wanted free time in the library with my friends. But my mom insisted, “Choose an instrument—it’s going to be so much more worth your time.” For some reason, the trumpet spoke to me, and that’s what I picked. I still remember the excitement of bringing it home, going outside, and playing it for the first time. It’s wild how such a small decision can have such a lasting impact—I can’t imagine where I’d be without that push.My parents have been supportive of my musical journey from the very beginning. It’s not always easy for parents to see their kid pursue music as a career when the path isn’t always clear, but they’ve always encouraged me. They love coming out to shows, supporting live music, and seeing how I’ve grown as an artist. Beyond my family, I feel lucky to have grown up in a vibrant community that truly values creativity and original music. Burlington has always had opportunities for young musicians, from summer camps to local mentors who gave me the chance to play outside of school. That combination of family support and community encouragement really helped shape me into the musician I am today.
What drew you specifically to the trumpet as your primary instrument, and have you ever been tempted to pursue another instrument more seriously?
The trumpet has always felt like such a powerful instrument to me, and that’s what drew me to it in the first place. I love its ability to cut through in so many different contexts, but I’m especially drawn to the intimacy it can create in small, acoustic settings. In those moments—whether I’m playing with a singer-songwriter or in a folk-inspired ensemble—I have to be incredibly focused, almost meditative with my air, and that’s when I feel most connected to the instrument. The trumpet has such an incredible dynamic range, and I never stop appreciating that about it.I also spend time on piano and guitar, though not at the same level as trumpet. Guitar is often the instrument I turn to when writing my singer-songwriter material, much of which I’ve released on Spotify. Piano, on the other hand, is where I sketch out a lot of my jazz ideas. It’s the first instrument I sit down at when I get home, and it always feels grounding. Every time I play, I discover something new, and that curiosity keeps me inspired.
You move fluidly between genres like jazz, folk, and blues. What inspires you to blur these boundaries, and how do you approach genre when you’re composing or performing?
That’s a really interesting question because I feel like it’s something I’m continuously exploring. Growing up, I was surrounded by folk, bluegrass, and singer-songwriter music—artists like Simon & Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and John Prine were always on in my house thanks to my parents. Later, when I started immersing myself in jazz, I found that those earlier influences never left me. They’ve continued to creep back into my writing in unexpected ways.These days, when I sit down to compose, I often find myself writing something that’s distinctly jazz or, on the other hand, something that’s very much in the folk or singer-songwriter vernacular. I haven’t fully blended the two yet, but I feel like I’m getting closer every time I write. I’m in constant pursuit of that middle ground—the place where these two strong influences in my life meet—and that’s exciting to me. With each project, I feel like I move closer to discovering a sound that’s uniquely my own.
How did your time at McGill University shape your approach to jazz performance and composition? Were there any pivotal teachers or experiences that fundamentally changed your outlook as a musician?
My time at McGill was definitely one of the periods in my life where I grew the most. Being in that environment, I felt like a sponge—constantly absorbing everything around me. There were so many incredible musicians to watch and learn from. Even when I was a freshman and didn’t fully understand what they were doing, I was deeply inspired, and it pushed me to raise my own level.I was fortunate to study with amazing professors who shaped me in different ways. Composition teachers like John Hollenbeck and improvisation teachers like Jean-Michel Pilc were both forces in their own right, and learning from them in such an intimate setting was really special. Beyond the individual lessons, there was something powerful about being in a community where everyone shared the same goal: to get better. That atmosphere left a lasting impression on me. It’s easy to forget that once you’re out in the gigging world, but I try to carry that lesson forward—you should always surround yourself with people who are striving to grow, no matter what field you’re in.
Songwriting and production became more central on your second album. What sparked that evolution, and how did it challenge you creatively?
That album was a very personal and cathartic journey for me. At the time, I was going through a lot of change, and I needed somewhere to put those feelings. Picking up the guitar and writing songs became that outlet. Burlington has such a vibrant folk and singer-songwriter scene, and seeing close friends immersed in that world really inspired me to try it for myself.What I found was that writing lyrics—taking an idea and trying to distill it down into its clearest, sharpest form—was incredibly therapeutic. I wanted to create something that was uniquely mine, a snapshot of where I was at that point in my life. That’s why I released the songs in chronological order, from the very first one I wrote to the last. Honestly, I wasn’t even setting out to make an album; I was just writing for myself, on my own time, without pressure. But one day I looked up and realized I had over twenty songs, and it made sense to release them as a project. It felt like a natural progression, and I’m really proud of how it turned out. I’ve kept writing since then, and I imagine I’ll be releasing another collection like that before too long.
You’re a fixture in Burlington’s jazz scene, especially at The 126’s jam sessions. How has being part of this community influenced your growth as both a musician and an educator?
The 126 has become such a special place for me. I’ve been playing there for about five or six years now. My friend Randall Pierce originally ran a jam session at a different spot, and when he started one at The 126, he asked me and some others to be in the house band. From the beginning, it’s been such an incredible space for the community—a place where people can connect, play, and grow together.What inspires me most is the younger musicians who come through. We’ll often have high schoolers, and even middle schoolers, show up. They’ll spend the week working on a song, come in ready to play, and put themselves out there. It’s amazing to see their dedication and to be able to help create a space where they feel supported and part of something bigger. I didn’t have that kind of opportunity when I was their age, so it means a lot to be able to help foster it now.
Another exciting piece of the scene is the new Vermont Youth Jazz Orchestra, an offshoot of the Vermont Youth Orchestra led by Kyle Saulnier. It’s an incredible program where high school musicians are placed in their instrument sections alongside professionals. I get to lead a group of high school trumpet players, and it’s been so rewarding to see how much they want to grow—and how talented they already are. Watching that next generation of musicians find their footing is really special.
Overall, I think Burlington’s music community is always on an upward trajectory. There are so many incredible people here with a community-first mindset who genuinely want to see everyone do well. Being part of that, both as a musician and an educator, has been truly special, and I feel really lucky to contribute to it.
When collaborating with other musicians—like the rhythm and string sections on Here’s to Now—how do you foster a sense of shared vision while allowing space for each artist’s individuality?
Here’s to Now was definitely the most ambitious project I’ve taken on so far, and it required a lot of bridging between different musical worlds. The string players I worked with primarily come from the classical realm, and they’re some of the most in-demand musicians in Burlington. They bring such professionalism and artistry, and even though I don’t often write for strings, they took my vision and expanded it in ways I hadn’t imagined. I wrote and arranged all the music, but they brought new colors and possibilities to it, which was so exciting to hear come to life.The rhythm section, on the other hand, is made up of some of my closest friends—people I’ve played with for years. There’s such a deep trust there that they almost instinctively know where I’m coming from, and they’re always up for trying new ideas. During the recording sessions, we had plenty of moments where we needed to talk things through, but those conversations always led to musical breakthroughs and a stronger sense of flow.
What was most important to me was creating space for everyone to shine. There are sections where the strings are featured on their own, really singing out beautifully, and moments where the rhythm section drives the energy forward. Each musician brought something unique, and I deeply respect their artistry. This project wouldn’t have been the same without their individual voices coming together to form a shared vision.
What core values or philosophies guide your work as a music educator? How do you hope to impact your students, both musically and personally?
That’s such a good question. I teach middle school, which means I work with students who are right in the middle of figuring out who they are, how they want to present themselves to their peers, and what excites them. Some of my students are deeply passionate about music, while others wonder why they have to take a music class at all. My job is to meet them where they are and help them see music differently.My philosophy as a music educator, especially in a public school setting, is to help every student find joy in music. I want them to leave my class with a new perspective—not just on music in the classroom, but on how it exists in the world around them. I share my own musical life with them because I know how important it was when my teachers did that for me. It makes the subject feel real and connected to life outside of school. I remember my eighth-grade social studies teacher, Mr. Godfrey, who would always tie the curriculum to his own experiences. If we were studying the Korean War, he’d show us photos from his travels to Korea. That approach made the lessons so much more engaging, and it’s something I try to emulate in my own teaching.
Even if my students don’t become musicians, I hope they walk away with a deeper appreciation for music and an understanding of what it can offer. Learning an instrument can unlock something in the brain—much like learning a language—and it teaches you to communicate in a completely different way. It also instills discipline, resilience, and grit. Practicing is hard, but pushing through those challenges can show students just how much they’re capable of, and I think that lesson extends far beyond music.
How does teaching inform your own artistry? Have there been lessons or insights from your students that have shaped your approach to your own music?
Teaching has a deep impact on my artistry, and I think it really comes down to the phrase “practice what you preach.” I’m constantly talking with my students about foundational skills—the building blocks of music and technique—and that naturally gets internalized in my own playing. It reminds me of the importance of always going back to basics. As a trumpet player, that means daily long tones, lip slurs, and other fundamentals. I feel fortunate that I get to revisit these essentials every day with my students, because they keep me grounded as a musician.Working with middle schoolers also teaches me the importance of making practice fun. Practicing isn’t always exciting at that age, so I’m always finding ways to turn it into a game or make it engaging. That perspective carries over into my own work—it reminds me that joy is an important part of the process, even when you’re working through something challenging.
And it goes beyond music. Teaching middle school means constantly being reminded of foundational life skills—how to communicate, how to show care, and how to handle conflict when something doesn’t feel right. Those lessons mirror the fundamentals of music in a way. Middle school is such a formative time—most people don’t look back on it as their favorite stage of life, but it’s when you really start to see yourself in the world. Being part of that process, both musically and personally, is one of the most rewarding parts of teaching, and it continues to shape how I approach my own art.
‘Here’s to Now’ is rooted in themes of presence and the journey from darkness to light. Can you walk us through the genesis of the Solas Suite and how those Irish Gaelic concepts shaped the album’s narrative?
The Solas Suite really became the heart of the album—it was where the whole project began. The first movement set the tone, and everything grew from there. I was inspired by the beauty of the Irish Gaelic language. It feels inherently poetic; sometimes you look at a single word and think, I can’t believe there’s a word for that feeling. That richness really shaped how I approached the music. The suite also came out of a trip I took to Ireland, where I traveled solo with my trumpet. While I was there, I met two folk buskers, Harry Fennell and Macdara O’Dwyer, and we ended up playing music together on the streets. It was such an incredible way to connect with a new place and new people. Since then, I’ve done similar things in other places, and every time it reinforces the power of music to build connections.
When I came home, I was still carrying that inspiration with me, and finishing the suite felt natural. Writing each movement and figuring out how they connected was such a rewarding process. The themes of presence, light, and transition that run through the Gaelic words gave the suite—and the whole album—a narrative arc that felt both deeply personal and universal.
The title track is dedicated to your niece, Tate. How did her arrival influence the emotional core of the album, and what message do you hope listeners take away from this piece?
That piece is so special to me because it’s tied directly to my family. I’m very close with them, and Tate—my older sister’s daughter—was the first grandchild. Seeing my sister step into motherhood and watching our family grow in that way was incredibly moving. Becoming an uncle has been one of the greatest joys of my life. Every time Tate sees me and smiles, or when she comes to one of my gigs and points at me on stage, it fills me with a kind of happiness that’s hard to put into words. When she was first born, I wanted to channel that feeling into music. What came out was “TateSong”—a piece that’s playful, growing, and full of light. To me, it’s a reminder to stay childlike at heart: to laugh, be goofy, and not lose sight of the joy in everyday life. Tate embodies that, and I wanted the music to capture it.
One of my favorite parts of the track actually came from my drummer, Geza. Without even asking, he added this playful texture by tapping sticks on the rim of the snare when the piece moves into tempo. It was such a simple choice, but it perfectly matched the spirit of the song. Every time I hear it, it brings a smile to my face. It’s a great example of the trust I have in my collaborators and how their contributions can bring out dimensions in the music I might not have imagined myself.
You’ve brought together jazz and classical elements in this project. What challenges and surprises did you encounter blending these worlds, and what do you think each tradition brings to the conversation?
The classical influence on this project really came from the soundtracks I grew up with—musicals and films that left a huge impression on me. Some of the first albums I ever bought on iTunes were the Jaws soundtrack, Sweeney Todd, West Side Story, and An American in Paris. I was also captivated by classic film scores, from James Bond to Alfred Hitchcock. What I loved was the drama of those sound worlds. Strings, in particular, bring such a powerful cinematic quality, and I wanted to capture that spirit.The biggest challenge came from trying to make those two worlds—cinematic/classical writing and jazz performance—exist side by side. I wanted the music to move fluidly between very dramatic, soundtrack-inspired sections and heavy swing. That kind of shift isn’t something that either group of musicians—classical or jazz—normally encounters. It’s not that it was uncomfortable, just unusual.
The key was choosing the right musicians. Everyone I brought in was so open, flexible, and creative. They not only embraced the challenge but also brought their own ideas to the table, which made the music feel uniquely theirs as well as mine. That sense of collaboration allowed the classical and jazz traditions to really converse with one another in a way that felt natural and fresh.
What impact do you hope Here’s to Now will have on listeners—emotionally, intellectually, or even spiritually?
What I hope listeners take away from Here’s to Now is the idea that life is always a balance of darkness and light. They ebb and flow, and you really can’t appreciate one without the other. That theme is deeply personal to me—I actually realized it when I lived in Los Angeles after college. Every day was 70 degrees and sunny, and at first it seemed perfect. But over time I realized that if every day is “perfect,” you stop appreciating it. That’s one of the reasons I love living in Vermont
Looking ahead, I think my role will continue to evolve around finding that middle ground I’ve been talking about—the place where storytelling and songcraft meet the freedom and exploration of jazz. Right now, I’m working on a new singer-songwriter album as well as a big band project with a strong storytelling element. Both of these represent the two worlds I come from: the narrative clarity of folk and singer-songwriter traditions, and the harmonic richness and improvisational spirit of jazz. My goal is to keep pushing toward a sound where those influences connect in a way that feels truly my own.
I’m also hoping to pursue graduate school, which I know will fuel me in ways I can’t even anticipate until I’m in it. Long term, I’d love to end up teaching at the college level. Education is something I always want to keep as part of my life—it’s such a vital piece of who I am as a musician.
For now, I’m just grateful to be creating, performing, and teaching in Vermont’s vibrant music community. Things are going really well, and I’m excited to keep making new music, exploring new ideas, and contributing to the scene. Thank you so much for these thoughtful questions and for giving me the chance to reflect on where I’ve been and where I’m going.
For further information on Connor, please visit his official website.
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