What I’ve Learned About Studio Etiquette (From Both Sides of the Glass)
By Mark Christensen
I’ve spent a lot of time in studios — sometimes behind the mic as an artist, sometimes behind the board as an engineer. And the more I move between those roles, the more I realize that studio etiquette isn’t about rules. It’s about respect. It’s about energy. It’s about protecting something fragile that exists in the room: creativity.
From the artist side, I know how vulnerable it feels to step up to the mic. You’re not just singing or performing — you’re offering a piece of yourself, often unfinished and uncertain. In those moments, what I need most is safety. I need to feel like the room is on my side. That doesn’t mean constant praise or fake hype, but it does mean presence. Listening. Patience. Not checking your phone mid-take. Not rushing me when I’m trying to figure something out. The best engineers I’ve worked with understand that their job isn’t just technical — it’s emotional. They hold the space.
But being on the other side has humbled me, too.
As an engineer, I’ve learned how much responsibility comes with that role. You’re not just pressing record — you’re managing time, problem-solving, reading the room, and trying to translate someone else’s vision into something real. And when an artist shows up late, unprepared, or distracted, it doesn’t just affect them — it shifts the entire session. It creates friction where there should be flow.
So now, as an artist, I try to show up differently. I come in knowing my material. I respect the clock. I communicate clearly. I don’t expect perfection, but I do expect effort — from myself first.
And as an engineer, I try to lead with empathy. Not every artist communicates the same way. Not every session will be smooth. Sometimes what looks like disorganization is actually nerves. Sometimes what sounds like indecision is someone trying to find the right way to say something that matters deeply to them. My job is to meet them there — not judge, but guide.
I think the best studio sessions happen when everyone understands this: we’re building something together. It’s not artist vs. engineer. It’s not ego vs. ego. It’s collaboration.
Some small things that go a long way:
Be on time. It sets the tone for everything.
Be prepared, but stay open. Some of the best moments are unplanned.
Respect the space — physically and energetically.
Communicate honestly, but kindly.
And most importantly, care. About the music, about the people, about the process.
At the end of the day, no one remembers the perfectly organized session if the energy felt off. But people do remember how they felt in the room. Whether they felt heard, supported, inspired.
That’s the real etiquette.
And I’m still learning it every day.