Crossroads usually appear in the dark. When life breaks open, the hardest choice isn’t moving forward—it’s staying soft. It’s choosing the route that lets you expand without sacrificing your gentleness, your warmth, or your belief in the goodness of others.
It’s a thought that stayed with us after our conversation with Haitian-American jazz vocalist Tyreek McDole. Not because he puts it into these exact words, but because something in the way he speaks about his experiences, his music, and the person he hopes to become reflects this very idea. “I’m in an era where I’ve been through the most physically, mentally, and spiritually challenging time of my life,” he shares. And yet, what comes through is his desire to keep growing, to understand himself better, and to find meaning through music. Speaking about artists such as Nina Simone, Miles Davis and André 3000, whose individuality and artistic courage have deeply inspired him, he describes their art as “revolutionary and a force for good.” It is an energy he hopes to bring into his own work.
Born in New York, raised in Florida and deeply connected to his Haitian roots, McDole brings many different influences into his music. His warm, distinctive baritone carries echoes of jazz tradition, but his curiosity reaches far beyond it. With his new album CHROMA, created in collaboration with trumpeter Theo Croker, he explores identity, belonging, and what it means to become more fully ourselves.
At the heart of CHROMA lies a beautiful question: How do we become more fully ourselves? For McDole, the answer is neither simple nor fixed. And perhaps that is true for all of us. Life rarely offers just one right path or one clear answer. Instead, we keep learning, changing, making mistakes, and discovering new sides of ourselves along the way.
In our conversation, we speak about the meaning of home, the teachers who shaped him, finding inspiration in the middle of the night, and why sometimes the most important thing we can do is give ourselves permission to rest.
photography by Prisca Munkeni Monnier
You were born in New York, raised in Florida, have Haitian roots and now call New York City home. How have these different places and cultures shaped the person and artist you are today? And when you think of the word home, is it a place, a feeling, or perhaps something you carry within yourself?
Home is the lessons, hopes, and values that I carry with me. Home is in the people that truly understand and care for me. Home is being surrounded by conscious folks that not only understand their circumstance, but are consistently making the attempt to grow. Everywhere I’ve called home, I see those values reflected in my community, which allows for empathy, curiosity, exploration, consciousness, and freedom.
Your voice has such a distinctive depth and warmth. I’m curious about your earliest memories of singing. When did you first discover that your voice could become a way of expressing emotions you couldn’t necessarily put into words?
I started singing during the obligatory Michael Jackson craze as a child. I sang all those songs like “ABC” and “I’ll Be There” in the original keys and no one could tell me that I wasn’t Michael Jackson’s cousin! (haha) Through that I learned that the voice could be a beautiful instrument and that words indeed could be a beautiful way to convey meaning and emotion. In fact, one of my favorite exercises was writing the full lyric to a song, noting the subtext of the lyric, and then writing different characters, perspectives and intentions within the story I discovered.
Looking back at your journey so far, was there a particular person, experience or moment that changed the way you understood music – or even yourself?
So many people have influenced my pursuit of music from family members to lawyers to even the pre-school children I taught basic math to. One gentleman who stands out is my Jamaican high school percussion teacher Kané Hurlock. Kané was an incredible musician. He taught me the four-mallet technique on the marimba, vibraphone, tenor drums and so many rhythms through my afterschool marching band program. He pushed all of his students very hard. Sometimes you’d cry, but that’s because he had so much love. Kané taught me that I shouldn’t settle for less when it comes to anything. He didn’t need flowery language to instill “Do your best” into my brain every time I had to play a difficult passage or solo piece. It’s teachers like Kané who made me curious about the greater music world including West African folkloric music, Afro-Cuban music, jazz, classical, and more. He passed away my sophomore year in high school. It’s been over 10 years, but I think of him fondly and push myself to be the best me that I can be. I’m forever thankful for that man Kané Hurlock.
“I don’t think there’s an original idea under the sun. Only artists with a notable combination of influences.”
Your new album is called CHROMA, a word that immediately brings to mind colour, intensity and different shades of emotion. What does this title mean to you personally? And if you had to describe the emotional landscape of this album through colours, which ones would you choose?
Exactly! I’m using CHROMA as a metaphor to describe radiating and realizing one’s own vibrancy through “individuation,” as Carl Jung phrased it. I’m currently in the process of discovering my higher CHROMA and the circumstances of my art and my life have made me more aware of the urgency behind it. That’s what CHROMA is about. I’m in an era where I’ve been through the most physically, mentally, and spiritually challenging time of my life and all these challenges that make me a more realized man also require that I know how not to get lost in all of it. I need to recognize myself after having gone through the fire and even after evolution. Integrating the conscious and the unconscious to become whole. I reflect that in the composers who I feel exemplify high CHROMA. Miles Davis, Nina Simone, Outkast’s André 3000. They’re all singular and artful. Their art revolutionary and a force for good. That energy is beautiful, vibrant and radiates life. That’s a high CHROMA. I intend on radiating my own!
CHROMA explores silence, reflection and the search for a sense of belonging. Was there a particular moment in your life that inspired you to turn inward and create something so personal? What did you discover about yourself during the process?
Surely. I’ve had many experiences that made me seek wisdom in silence, but I think the most palpable one has been my experience living in New York City. I came alone. I don’t have many long-standing relationships out here. There’s never a moment of silence even in your own bed. Rent is sky high. You see extreme wealth juxtaposed with extreme poverty within the span of a city block. At times, I feel alone and vulnerable, and the city reflects that scarcity, insecurity, instability, apathy, and numbness that can make you act outside of yourself. Do things out of survival. Then I think of what Kané said: “Do your best.” That’s all we can do. I learned that I have to have moments where I reflect in silence. I found that not everyone I’m surrounded by has the capacity to be a friend. I learned I don’t have to “perform” happiness just to co-exist. I discovered that I can recalibrate myself by pausing and reflecting on what aligns with me then moving in authenticity. I learned that what is meant for me won’t pass me by.
The album brings together your own compositions and reinterpretations of artists who have influenced you. How did you decide which songs belonged in this particular chapter of your life? Is there one song on CHROMA that feels especially close to your heart, and why?
I wanted to connect the contemporary music I grew up with to the “jazz” idiom. To me, it’s evident that we’re all trying to achieve the same goal as artists: storytelling. These are a collection of stories that resonate with experiences I have lived. I sought love and had to be transparent to receive it: CONFESSION. I have known Black women with stories like Outkast’s “she’s alive” and wanted to raise awareness about how Black women can receive more love, care, and equity. Personally, I love “GO HOME”; this was a really simple song that I wrote when I chose this path to find myself. It’s earnest. It’s easy and it’s mine.
“I learned that what is meant for me won’t pass me by.”
On CHROMA, you move between the worlds of Nina Simone, Miles Davis, Kendrick Lamar and André 3000, among others. These artists come from different generations and musical traditions, yet they all seem connected by a certain honesty and individuality. What do you feel connects their music, and what draws you to their work?
I think it’s just that. They’re all honest. They’re all individuals. They’re all Black icons rooted in the tradition of their work. They all have reverence for the artists that came before them yet are unapologetically themselves. They all have that high CHROMA I was mentioning earlier. I want to be surrounded by and inspired by people who are deeply in tune with themselves.
Jazz carries an extraordinary history, but it has also always been about change, experimentation and responding to the present. As a young artist, how do you find the balance between honouring the musicians who came before you and creating something that feels entirely your own?
I used to think about that a lot. “Am I straying too far?” “What would the critics think?” “Is it jazz enough?” I’ve begun to abandon those ideas. My only job as an artist is to make art. My only job as a musician is to make music. Of course, I love and study the “jazz” tradition. It’s a part of everything I can and will do. I don’t think there’s an original idea under the sun. Only artists with a notable combination of influences. I can only worry about doing my best. If I make something new, it would have been an accident!
You worked closely with Theo Croker on CHROMA, and the album brings together musicians who are also part of your musical circle. How did this collaboration influence the atmosphere of the record? What does it take for you to feel creatively safe enough to be vulnerable with other musicians?
Theo has a unique perspective on playing music. I’ve been a fan of his since I was 16, so his discography alone inspired me and informed many choices on the record. He pushed me to be audacious. At risk of coming off as brash, it’s an energy that states, “I know what I believe and I will be heard. This is my story after all.” I have to like what you do, see that you have integrity and know that you’re a good human being. I love all kinds of music and musicians, but if we’re not aligned it’s not going to work.
Every artist seems to have a different relationship with inspiration. Some find it in solitude, others in conversations, travelling or simply observing everyday life. Where do your ideas usually begin? And what do you do when creativity feels distant?
I feel the most inspiration when I find time to myself while traveling, and a few songs come out of that. “Go Home” was written in the Netherlands at 3am. CONFESSION was written on a snowy night in Brooklyn. CHROMA came to me in a dream. When I feel like I’m in a creative rut, I just watch a great film, listen to great music, or hang out with inspiring, creative people. Life is my muse.
“My only job as an artist is to make art. My only job as a musician is to make music.”
There’s something incredibly intimate about singing. Your voice is part of your body, and unlike an instrument, you can never really put it down. Does singing ever make you feel exposed? And has your relationship with vulnerability changed as you’ve grown as an artist?
The first time I sang was in high school at a recital with the whole school in attendance. I had only sung in my shower beforehand. I felt completely naked and nervous. Now, I’m thankful for the stage and the space to sing because it’s one of the few spaces in my life where I can be totally open and vulnerable in that way. The audience is there to hear what I have to say. I’m so honored that this is my life and for the gift of music.
Music and fashion have always been closely connected, especially in jazz, where artists have often used personal style as another form of expression. How would you describe your own relationship with fashion? Does what you wear on stage help you express a different side of yourself, or is it simply an extension of who you are?
I like to wear clothes that make me feel confident and like myself. I’ve never been too big on brands or trends; I just find clothes that make me feel good. I follow the feeling.
The title CHROMA also suggests a strong visual world. Do colours, photography, cinema or other visual art forms influence the way you imagine your music? And how involved are you in shaping the visual identity surrounding your albums?
I don’t know much about visuals, but I know what films, movies, and photos I like. I just try to compile different images that I find beautiful and then find people who can help me reimagine that.
Music has the beautiful ability to connect strangers through emotions they might otherwise never share. When someone listens to CHROMA, perhaps alone on a quiet evening or while walking through a city, what do you hope they will feel or carry with them afterwards?
I hope people can learn to give themselves permission to rest, recalibrate, and align with their highest selves after listening. I hope the music brings them joy after a long shift at work. I hope there’s another teenager in Florida listening to this album in bed at night and their imagination goes wild listening to this record. I hope this inspires people to make art and be themselves.
If you could send a message to your younger self, the boy in Florida who was just beginning to discover music and his own voice, what would you tell him today?
I’d say, “Tyreek. There are a lot of people who have an idea of what you could and should do with your life. It’s important that you surround yourself with friends – real friends. It’s important that you keep pushing forward, but also make time to rest. It’s ok to talk to that girl in English class and just be a young man. Your personhood informs your art. Vice versa… And call home once in a while.”
