Jacob Collier's Sydney Masterclass
- Danielle Berkmann
- Jul 18
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 19
Performed on 13 June 2025 | Verbrugghen Hall, Sydney Conservatorium of Music
“As a musician, you are only as powerful as how you can make people feel”

Those were the words that Jacob Collier told the audience in the Verbrugghen Hall when asked what was the best piece of music advice he’d received throughout his journeyThis advice was something told to him by his mother, Suzie Collier — a conductor and musician herself — and was undoubtedly something that resonated with all of us, regardless of our musical discipline.
Collier started the masterclass wordlessly, simply singing a note, and as if there was some unspoken instruction carried through the music, the entire hall sang back. He then, still without speaking, gestured to our sections, and assigned different pitches to each section of the audience. With up-and-down hand gestures, certain sections changed pitch accordingly, and the hall was filled with a swell of flowing, fluid, ever-changing chords that seemed to slot perfectly and harmoniously with each other. By changing the shape of his mouth, we all universally understood and mimicked, shifting the vowels we sang between bright and round sounds.
Already, by the end of that introduction, I was captivated. Before he had even said anything about music, we had already made collaborative music altogether, without verbal instruction or direction.

Throughout the rest of Jacob’s masterclass in the Hall, I found that his key musical insights centred around the importance of collaboration, creativity, and innovation.
His musical ethos isn’t about ignoring the musical rules set out by composers centuries ago, but instead mastering them, fully understanding the techniques and knowing their history in order to use them in more innovative ways. What Collier taught us wasn’t a new interval that we had never heard of before, but rather examples of ways to bend and creatively manipulate what we already know into something raw, expressive, and new. The goal, he said, isn’t to create something that’s never been created before, but to use what we know in new and unique ways in order to evoke emotion in our audience, no matter the context.
Additionally, Collier always ensured to tailor his tips to allow every student in the Hall, from all the different musical disciplines, to take something from the Workshop. His advice was consistently inclusive of all musical careers and interests, not only ensuring that everyone was engaged, but also proving the relevance of musical creativity and its universal nature.
It was through Collier’s wonderfully evocative rendition of “Let It Be” by the Beatles that his words were brought into practical fruition, as he demonstrated various ways to reharmonise, reform, and experiment.
He ended the masterclass with one final crowd-work choir, but right before he iconically slid off the stage, he noted that he’d love to see us in the Botanical Gardens afterwards for some more music-making. Of course we wanted more; it was his adamance and passion that drew us all out to the Botanic Gardens, where we gathered around the Amphitheatre. A few minutes later, Collier arrived with a 5-string guitar, singing Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” with us all, before organising us into a song circle.

A song circle, Collier explained, could go on endlessly, as it involved changing the music we created creatively and intuitively. We were divided into four sections and given separate ostinati, all watching Collier for directions for dynamics and pitch as he fluently conducted us in repeating and flowing patterns.
Then, continuing his advocacy for collaborative music, he invited members of the audience to conduct the song circle, each changing each ostinato as they desired. These momentary conductors were both improvising and experimenting, while the others were making music and learning auditorily. Collier’s gracious extension of the masterclass was not a creative way to demonstrate different musical perspectives within an immersive and engaged ensemble, but was also made enjoyable in the musically intimate setting of the sunny Botanic Gardens.
I can certainly speak for everyone in the audience when I say I undoubtedly learnt much from this one Workshop with Collier, and have taken away things that I can apply to all aspects of my musicianship. Collier, in all his contagious eccentrics, made this masterclass beautifully beneficial and musically engaging, ultimately creating a space that emphasised the importance of creativity and creation above all, and we all thank the Conservatorium and, of course, Collier and his team for allowing us the privilege of this event.














