On Giving a Good Note
Many of us were raised in rehearsal rooms where sarcasm, passive-aggressive (and plain old aggressive) comments were the norm.
Where title power felt the need to “break us” in order to “make us.”
Where dressing down of the entire cast was a regular occurrence.
I’ve been in many rooms where we had to pause rehearsal to endure tantrums from the “leaders” present.
But none of that actually helped the work. And it definitely didn’t help the people making it.
Some folks have held on to bad habits from the generation before without considering whether these behaviours and methods actually yield positive results.
I propose that we could be more thoughtful about how we approach leadership. I’ll also offer that you can love and respect a mentor while recognizing that their way of working is harmful and that you can and should do better.
A generous, productive rehearsal room depends on clear and direct communication. Giving a note is not an opportunity to perform authority. Giving a note is a responsibility.
Here are some thoughts on giving notes with clarity and respect.
Know The Work Inside Out
Before you step into rehearsal, you need to know your piece intimately.
Notes fall apart when leaders are fuzzy on what they want. Ambiguity has its place in early discovery, but once you’re in the note-giving phase, the room depends on you for clarity.
A director who says, “Try something… anything!” and then immediately follows with “No, not like that,” is the worst.
Artists take risks when they know the boundaries of the room. They grow when those boundaries feel intentional.
Artists give you their best when they feel safe from arbitrary rejection. So be prepared to discuss the work at a high level.
And if you use experimentation, discovery, or devising as part of your process, knock off the notes. It’s not the time. Offer observations instead.
Match Expectations with Reality
Before you give a single note, check your expectations.
You cast these artists. You know what they bring. You understand their strengths, their limitations, and the places where they can grow.
Notes should live inside a performer’s actual toolkit and not an imaginary potential version of them.
Can you challenge people?
Of course.
That’s the work. Growth is part of the job for everyone.
Growth happens when expectations are realistic and rooted in the truth of who is in the room.
A note that asks someone to work from their strengths is motivating.
A note that asks someone to work beyond their abilities is shaming.
Remove the Performance of Authority
Stop performing power. You either have it or you don’t.
Sarcasm, passive aggression, and takedowns are performances of authority. They have no connection to real leadership. They create fear, diminish trust, and often paralyze the very artists you need to be brave.
People do not do their best work when they are humiliated.
Imagine?!
They do their best work when they are respected, prepared, and supported.
Be Clear. Be Direct. Say What You Mean.
A good note is specific. It names the thing you want and asks for it plainly.
“Pick up the pace in that transition.”
“Land that line with more weight.”
“Slow down this section ”.
“Shift your focus to actor B for that reveal.”
No sarcasm. No coded language.
If you find yourself giving the same note over and over again, that’s evidence that you are not communicating effectively.
That is on you, not the performer.
When the note doesn’t land, change the note. Your job is to be understood.
Communication Is the Job
More than anything else, directing is communication.
A good note communicates: I believe you can do this. I believe in the work we’re making together. Here is how we get there.
A bad note says: You’re failing. Prove yourself.
When we give good notes we create rooms where people feel capable, safe, and proud of the work they’re doing.
We also make better art.