An adventurous guitarist, a daring performer, an inventive composer, a dedicated educator, and a champion of equity and inclusion in music and academia, Jess Green has made a name for herself, chasing that creative spark that happens when music takes a turn you didn’t see coming. Now she’s bringing that same fearless energy to her new role, as program director of the Sydney Women’s International Jazz Festival, the city’s biggest annual celebration of jazz — which also happens to be one of the nation’s boldest artistic statements on gender diversity.
It’s no wonder that her artistic intention for the 2025 SIWJF program is summed up in the slogan ‘Make an expression’. Here’s how she puts it: “Come! Listen! Make Noise! Express your passion for music that is never quite the same twice.” Which is exactly what she has been doing herself, throughout her musical journey.
What’s the best part about your role at the SWIJF?
This morning I had one of those moments of getting a macro snapshot of all these performances about to take place. Often, you’re head down, sorting out a fee or a flight, or someone can’t do it anymore, and you’re dealing with these tiny pieces. But it was extremely exciting to think of these ten days of energy about to happen. It reminds me why I love improvised music and how incredibly diverse the borders of jazz can be.
Why do you love improvised music?
Because I don’t know what’s going to happen. These experts are about to perform incredible moments of alchemy on stage. Each of them has extensive experience and tools and skills to draw on, but still, every concept will be different. The thrill of that is one of the things I love about being an improviser, and also about being in the audience.
These performers are experts at treading the tightrope, taking risks, and expressing themselves beyond conscious control. It’s not all about danger. It only works when people connect, and that’s incredible.
When you spend a lot of time talking about jazz, or learning jazz, or writing emails about jazz, you sometimes lose that connection to the visceral experience of music-making — when the way someone hits a note makes the hair stand up on the back of your arms. That can happen in all music, of course, but for me there’s an added thrill in improvised music.
When was the last time you had that feeling?
I was listening to the playlist I made featuring the SIWJF artists while exercising. I had endorphins going, watching footage of the peace deal in Palestine. It was an intense mix of things: the privilege of making music, being on stage, and being somewhere safe. Music celebrates the best of humanity, communication, and connection. We strive to make the festival as diverse as possible, thinking about improvisation, music, and expression in different cultural forms.
If you weren’t involved in the festival, which would be the first ticket you’d book?
The Cloudmaker. That‘s the one for me. I’m really excited about it. That ensemble does everything I want the festival to do, all in one band. I know all those women, most of them separately as improvisers. I would have gone to see them solo anyway.
I find Aviva Endean astonishing to watch. I saw her recently in the Hand to Earth project, which really blew my mind in terms of what the borders of improvised music can be. I’ve worked with Sunny Kim on a piece I wrote for the Australian Art Orchestra. That was one of my favourite musical experiences of my life. Maria Moles, I met recently through Panghalina, which unfortunately can’t perform due to unforeseen circumstances, but we have the amazing Bree Van Reyk stepping in to open that show. I’ve been seeing a lot of Freya Schack-Arnott in Sydney. As for Te Kahureremoa, she’s the wild card for me. I’ve been hearing all this beautiful recorded music, so I hope people take a risk and come to that show. Some people will recognise names, others might think: “What’s this?” I hope they give it a go.
Any other shows you’re looking forward to?
Of course, I’ll be at Hiromi and Samara Joy, mouth open, star-struck. But the second weekend has some hidden gem, artists like Liv Andrea Hauge. Her playing is exquisite, so moving, beautiful, and different to Hiromi. She’s doing really well in Europe, but audiences here might not know her. I hope people say: “Let’s try this.”
You’ve discovered a few artists through this role, haven’t you?
Yeah, Liv is a perfect example. Chloe Kim brought her to me, they’re very good friends. That was a delight. I was at JazzAhead! last year, saw a lot of music from that Scandi region, and really loved it.
Melanie Charles is another I might not have come across, but the Melbourne Jazz Festival team are championing her. There’s a lot of collaboration between the two festivals. She’s an incredible improviser and singer. There’s an ecstatic nature to her trio with Ignabu and Paul Wilson Bae, the three of them are co-bandleaders, really. If anyone loves flute and wants to see it in this amazing club, beats-infused setting, they need to come. It’s at Mary’s Underground, which is the old Basement. It’s great to be back there, it’s such an important part of Sydney jazz history.
What are your most vivid memories from the old Basement?
I’ve seen so many pivotal concerts there as a young kid — Trilok Gurtu, for example. That one blew my mind. I’d already started listening a little bit to the the stuff he’d done with John McLaughlin, and I I was interested in those projects that took jazz to other cultures, so I was like: “here comes the master!” He had a guitarist with him, who sang and played beautifully in this really interesting musical setting. I remember thinking: “I want to be that guy.”
Lots of other great gigs, too — The Bad Plus, for example, and John Scofield; I was young and it really stayed with me. Seeing that level of mastery up close is so intense. I don’t get to experience it very often, I’m too busy to go to many gigs.
That’s why you have to make your own festival, to catch up!
Totally!
What did you want to do differently for this festival?
It’s funny, because the previous program director, Zoe Hauptmann, is one of my oldest friends and was part of my musical upbringing. We probably think similarly. I learned a lot from watching Zoe program. She really led the charge in pushing boundaries: programming artists like Bree van Reyk, an incredible improviser and composer who started as a classical percussionist. Zoe opened that door for me, and so did all the other people before her: Amy Curl, and Sandy Evans, and Peter Rechniewski, who started the festival. I think we have really done well, continuing this legacy. We have been taking care of it, and lifting it up.
The tricky but rewarding part for me has been blurring the lines between my role at the Conservatorium, my equity work, and my community work with the festival.
We have one show bringing out Claudia Doffinger, an amazing German conductor and composer. We’re presenting a concert at the Conservatorium with our students, featuring a new all-female and gender non-conforming band, alongside our incredible big band led by David Theak. It’s free, all ages, and nearly sold out. Claudia’s about to get on the plane. There’s a lot happening, at the moment, but it’s satisfying. I hope it brings people together.
That’s my stamp on the festival, and I’d love to do it again next year. For 2026, I’d like to include more opportunities for all ages; musical workshops, and participation experiences.
What’s the SWIF’s main strength?
I think we’ve continued to ask: “What is jazz?” We’ve done well presenting a wide spectrum: music from the African diaspora, Europe, New Zealand, local Sydney artists, young students. There’s traditional swing, raw improvisation, classical string quartets with Hiromi, it’s all there.
This isn’t an advocacy strategy. We’re showcasing artists at the top of their game. These are world-class artists. This is Sydney’s festival. It’s not just the women’s festival.
We have women and men on stage, actually, along with gender non-conforming artists.
What would you say to someone who is triggered by the idea of a ‘women’s jazz festival’? To people who think it’s divisive; what’s your answer to that?
My answer is: come to the gigs, and then let’s chat. Research shows bias still exists in ticket buying and programming, so you have to work against that. But this is a diverse and accessible event for everyone. I hope audiences see this as an opportunity to connect with artists they might not have seen before.
It’s important to ask these questions. In a way, yes — it is exclusive by nature. But we’ve seen positive, concentrated actions create ongoing ripple effects. The landscape has changed a lot in 30 years. That’s because people kept lifting each other up. Maybe one day we won’t need to mention gender. That’d be brilliant.
What would the name be then?
The Sydney International Jazz Festival! We’ll have that conversation, when that happens. But for now, I’m holding the line, as it is for a while. It’s normal now for festivals in theatre, dance, and rock to consider diversity. Audiences expect it. But jazz hasn’t had the same national shift yet. It’s still often individual artists driving change.
Hopefully, what SWIJF is doing is having that conversation, opening up the possibility, so that more people can see themselves as part of this community. What’s also important is that we very rarely talk about audiences in this conversation; that’s very interesting: who are we playing for, what do they want to see?
I hope they want to see a real spectrum of people and of types of expression and music-making. Hopefully, the festival opens possibilities so more people see themselves as part of this community.
Do you think jazz as a genre is a good platform for this type of change?
Yes. In its purest form, jazz is the perfect platform to explore inclusion. Though, of course, when we say ‘jazz’, what do we mean? It’s 100 years of very different music. Some forms are more democratic than others. In its best form, jazz is about responding and reacting; exploring agency and expression. But it also has rules, spoken and unspoken — how you look, sound, speak, dress — all of which can be barriers.
What does ‘jazz’ mean to you?
The word ‘jazz’ itself is complicated. It’s hard for me to say: “I play jazz.” This music came from a particular people and culture, and while part of its story is about exchange and integration, another part is about commodification. We’re still working through that; whose stories we tell, whose songs we sing. Do I have answers? No. I just keep checking my compass.
I call myself an improvising musician. I love jazz, I’m proud of studying it, but I’m not from that culture. When I make my own music, it has to connect to my context here. Otherwise, for me, as an artist, it’s meaningless.
Sometimes I wonder if I should stop saying I play jazz. But the community keeps inviting me back, and audiences too.
How does your work in academia and equity influence your music?
Massively. I got really interested in some of the research that’s already emerging at the Sydney Conservatorium, particularly by people such as Phil Slater and Simon Barker. There are a lot of researchers at the Con investigating a particular way of thinking about complex systems. The field is called ecological dynamics. I have spent some time exploring these frameworks and thinking of how systems fluctuate and produce new results. It’s become a way of thinking about my own practice as an improviser, particularly when I formed this duo with Dylan Van Der Schyff. When we play, it’s very responsive, not cerebral at all. It made me realise that skill isn’t a linear thing, something that you develop day by day, accumulating hours of practice. It’s complex and responsive. Like a healthy ecology, it’s about diversity. You can’t always predict how two things will interact with each other.
In my equity work, I try to challenge my own assumptions. Same in music.
My compositions are now more open, cell-based, giving musicians more agency. When I work on the floor with a poet or a theatre maker, my process is always about exchange and iteration.
So I can honestly say that the academic filter has been really wonderfully transformative from. It has amplified my curiosity. Always learning. Always playing.
The Sydney International WOMEN’S Jazz Festival is taking place from 23 October – 2 November. See the full program here.
