Rik Mol
“Ben, is this actually a two-way road?”
A life in
music.
I’m Rik Mol, a trumpeter and independent recording artist. I write my own music and bring it to life with the Rik Mol Group. Here are a few moments that came to mind as I looked back on my life in music.

On the road.
“Is this actually a two-way road?”
It was still dark when we left our hotel in Colombia. The Rik Mol Group was on tour, and we were heading to the airport in two taxis, winding through the mountains.
Ben van den Dungen and I were sitting in one of them. For a while, our driver had been driving on the left side of the road.
“Ben, is this actually a two-way road?”
We looked at each other.
Then we came around a bend, and two enormous headlights appeared out of the darkness.
A truck. Coming straight towards us.
We both started shouting. At the very last moment, the driver swerved back to the right.
Let’s just say the Rik Mol Group came dangerously close to having a very short history.
The band survived. Finding enough time to keep it on the road, however, turned out to be another story.
Over the years, my calendar filled up with concerts, recording sessions, teaching and tours. It’s a strange thing to be playing more music than ever and still have too little time for your own. I’ve learned that making my own music deserves more than whatever time happens to be left at the end of the day.
So these days, I’m making room for it again.
But that’s getting ahead of the story.
Back in Zeeland.

Back in Zeeland, there was a little blue case sitting in my father’s office at his car dealership. Inside was my grandfather’s shiny silver cornet, passed down to my father, who, being a car dealer, might just as well have tried to sell it to me.
I was about eight years old.
Becoming a musician hadn’t actually been my childhood plan. I wanted to be a chef. I still love cooking, and on the rare occasions I have a day off, there’s a good chance you’ll find me in my outdoor kitchen.
But the trumpet gradually took over.
My musical world began with classical music. I loved the sound of symphony orchestras, particularly Mahler. Then jazz entered the picture through a mix-up: I was expecting classical trumpet, but received an album with The Jazz Messengers.
Later, Black Codes (From the Underground) found its way into my Discman, and suddenly there was a whole other musical world to explore.
I was hooked.
Meeting Wynton some years later was another turning point. His dedication inspired me to approach my own playing with a new level of determination.
Things started happening quite early.
The first invitation.


When I was seventeen, Jan Oosthof invited me to play with the Metropole Orkest. Vince Mendoza was conducting an Ellington suite, and I was so excited I barely slept the night before.
Back then, you couldn’t simply download the sheet music beforehand. So when I arrived and opened my folder, I discovered that the entire suite began with a trumpet solo.
Completely alone.
No orchestra. Just me.
Quite a way to meet an orchestra.
The concert went well, and they kept inviting me back. That first invitation grew into a long relationship with the Metropole Orkest, where I continue to play as a trumpet soloist.
Meanwhile, I was finding my way through the Dutch jazz scene, playing with musicians such as Piet Noordijk and Ben van den Dungen, joining Nueva Manteca and eventually stepping into Jarmo Hoogendijk’s place alongside Ben. Musicians I’d grown up listening to were suddenly my colleagues.
In 2004, at nineteen, I packed my entire band into a car and drove to Berlin for the European Trumpet Contest. Even the double bass somehow fitted in.
I won the competition, and that same year also won the Prinses Christina Concours. Those early experiences encouraged me to pursue something I was becoming increasingly curious about: creating music of my own.
Music of my own.

My debut album, What’s On Tonight?!, brought together improvisation with funk and hip-hop grooves and received an Edison nomination. Funk On Me followed, and later Infinite Mirrors, Vol. 1. Different sounds and ideas, but always with melody, rhythm and improvisation at the heart of the music.
With my own band, music took me around the world. South America, Japan, China, South Korea and places I never imagined visiting. One night we’d play for thousands of people, the next we’d find ourselves in a tiny jazz club. Occasionally the hotel accommodation was rather less impressive than the concert.
Through the Metropole Orkest, I’ve also had the chance to explore some extraordinary musical worlds, performing with artists including Robert Glasper and Hiromi, and recording on albums by Robbie Williams and Jacob Collier.
One particularly special experience was performing music from Miles Davis’ Tutu and Amandla alongside Marcus Miller and John Beasley, playing the trumpet parts associated with Miles himself. Standing next to Marcus, who helped create that music, was something I won’t forget.
Another was touring with the WDR Big Band and Chano Domínguez, performing Vince Mendoza’s arrangements. Some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing.
I’ve always loved moving between different musical worlds. But underneath all that variety, jazz and improvisation have remained at the heart of what I do.
The music I hear.

Someone once asked me a question I’ve never forgotten:
“What music do you hear in your head when everything goes quiet?”
It’s a surprisingly good question.
Sometimes it’s a beat or a bass line. Sometimes a jazz standard, a trumpet melody or harmonies that sound more like a classical score.
Making my own music gives me the freedom to follow those ideas wherever they lead.
With the Rik Mol Group, I love building music around a groove. Music that makes you want to move, with melodies that stay with you and enough freedom for the musicians to take things somewhere unexpected. Improvisation is always part of it, but so are the rhythms and sounds of hip-hop, funk and everything else that inspires me.
Some of my favourite moments on stage happen when I’m not playing at all, just listening to the incredible musicians around me.
My duo with Rob van Bavel brings out another side of that same curiosity. There’s something wonderful about playing a beautiful ballad or revisiting a jazz standard with someone you know and trust. Just trumpet and piano, listening, responding and discovering where the music wants to go. A familiar tune can feel completely different every time.
I need both of those worlds. And I love that music still has the ability to surprise me.
Alongside my own projects, I record trumpet and flugelhorn from my studio and teach at the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague and HKU Utrechts Conservatorium. I’ve been fortunate to learn from extraordinary musicians, and passing on some of that knowledge has always been an important part of my life.
Making room.
These days, I’m making more time for my own music, my bands and my family. I’m also learning that a great performance isn’t necessarily about getting every note perfect. Sometimes it’s the little imperfections that make the music come alive.
Ultimately, I hope people simply enjoy what we create. That we connect, have a great night together, and perhaps send someone home with a melody stuck in their head.
I’ve been playing trumpet since I was about eight. By now, you’d think I’d know exactly what I want to sound like.
Some days I do.
Other days I hear something new, and the whole search starts again.