BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
We’ve all been there.
Playing a piece of music in front of a teacher, adjudicator, or colleague — our nervous system on high alert while we wait for their opinion.
Was that okay — or did I totally screw it up? Will they notice I wasn’t perfect in that section? Will they think I’m not good enough?
Feedback can impact anyone’s self-esteem, and not just in music. But in a discipline built around competition and the pursuit of perfection, feedback can often hit hard. In some cases, it may even have the power to make or break a performance career.
Susan Eldridge is an unstoppable force when it comes to advocating for mental wellbeing in arts workplaces, and one of the most vulnerable topics in this field is how to give and receive feedback.
This year, Susan (pictured below) will facilitate several workshops on how to safely communicate feedback. It’s part of her 2025 Professional Development for Orchestras series. But it doesn’t matter where you’re at in your music career — feedback is always part of the job.
Susan tells CutCommon about the impact of your opinion, and how to make sure it comes from a healthy place, without harming the recipient’s confidence or identity.
Susan, you’re preparing to facilitate workshops about one of the most vulnerable topics: feedback. How would you describe the role of feedback in a musician’s career?
Feedback shapes a musician’s career — but not always in the ways we think. At its best, it’s a tool for refinement and growth. At its worst, it plants self-doubt that can last for years.
We treat feedback like a normal part of learning, but we rarely talk about how personal it is. In music, feedback lands on something deeply connected to identity, effort, even worth. This workshop is about naming that — and building the skills to offer feedback that sharpens the work without wounding the person.
There are two ways where feedback is going wrong in the training model and industry:
- Firstly, feedback that puts the person and not the performance under scrutiny. For example, a teacher or colleague saying ‘YOU were flat’ versus saying ‘THAT entry wasn’t in tune’.
- Secondly, feedback that’s only error detection with no instructions on what to fix. For example, ‘YOU/THAT was out of time’ versus ‘THE rhythm was inaccurate because the subdivision was inconsistent’.
Both these models create shame in musicians, rather than independence and confidence.
You’ve touched on some unhealthy communication styles. I’d love to know more about what you believe are some of the worst ways to provide feedback — whether through words or body language — and how that might impact a musician.
The worst feedback isn’t always spoken. It’s the raised eyebrow, the silence, the offhand comment after an audition, or the announcement of an outcome with no transparency or explanation. In high-stakes settings, this stuff lands as shame.
I’ve worked with so many musicians who are experiencing anxiety, depression, and perfectionism, and the common thread is often not the music itself — it’s the feedback.
Not knowing why something went wrong, or being made to feel like they are the problem, can undermine a person’s confidence, identity, and relationship with music. More often than not, the feedback we get doesn’t point safely to the way forward.
The person who gives feedback is sharing a judgment, often subjective, that could be internalised by a musician who has worked hard to be in the position to receive it. For instance, the musician may have reached the final stages of a competition, or be preparing for an audition. How can arts leaders understand their potential to make a personal impact? And that it may not be fair to expect an early career or even established musician to ‘get over’ negative feedback — perhaps coming from an artist they admire?
Oh Steph — subjective judgement. Grrr! This is a real bug bear of mine, because there’s a different way. We can design robust rubrics and selection criteria to avoid subjectivity, bias, and assumptions.
When a musician puts themselves forward — for a scholarship, a competition, a principal seat — they’re offering more than their playing. They’re offering their story, their preparation, their risk. Feedback in those moments isn’t just technical; it’s received in the body.
Decision makers need to recognise the power we hold in those moments.
‘Getting over it’ isn’t resilience — it’s silence. We don’t build strong musicians by toughening them up. We do it by giving feedback that focuses on the performance, not the performer, and that shows the way forward.
How would you encourage arts leaders to look inward, and start giving themselves some of their own advice? That is, how can they build self-awareness of the impact of their feedback, and think carefully about the way they communicate it?
Before giving feedback, pause and ask yourself: Is this the right moment? Am I in a grounded, regulated state? Am I the right person to offer this feedback right now?
Because if you’re not steady, there’s a high chance your words — and even your body language — won’t land safely with the other person.
This isn’t about being soft. It’s about being responsible.
Feedback is never neutral — it carries the weight of your position, your timing, and your tone. You don’t have to get it right every time. But you do have to show up with awareness and care. That’s leadership.
Feedback sometimes comes from a place where there is an imbalance of power. The musician might rely on the opinion of adjudicators to win a competition, a panel to succeed in an audition, or a teacher to get a high grade. And when there’s pressure riding on that feedback, it may feel difficult or impossible to question. How would you encourage musicians to respectfully question feedback they don’t understand — or perhaps disagree with?
Great question — and one I work through with young musicians all the time.
My golden rule here is that regardless of the context, regardless of the power dynamic, you’re absolutely allowed to ask for clarity.
When you receive feedback that you don’t understand or that doesn’t sit right, here are a few of my go-to questions that can help you create space, gather clarity, and surface any unconscious bias:
- ‘What makes you say that?’
- ‘What makes you suggest that option for me right now?’
- ‘Can you tell me more about what you mean?’
Good feedback is a conversation, not a decree. If something feels confusing, misaligned, or out of step with your goals, asking thoughtful questions isn’t rude — it’s professional.
The more we normalise respectful questioning, the healthier and more collaborative our rehearsal rooms, studios, and auditions become.
At the end of the day, what do you think looks like a great piece of feedback? And what positive outcomes can that make on the recipient, and on the person giving it?
Great feedback is specific, useful, forward-focused and offered in service of the work — not the ego of the person giving it.
It’s taken a long time for me to reframe my relationship to feedback. For a long time, even hearing the word activated my nervous system into freeze mode. My body and mind were bracing for harm. But over time, I’ve come to understand that feedback, when given with care, can be one of the most powerful tools for growth — not just technically, but personally and artistically.
Good feedback should name what’s strong, highlight what can shift, and leave the other person with more clarity than when they arrived. It should also keep the door open for further discussion and collaboration, rather than perpetuating harmful power dynamics.
At its best, feedback doesn’t diminish. It connects and supports growth.
Explore Susan’s series 2025 Professional Development for Orchestras. The online training workshop on Giving Feedback will take place on 8 July, 3 September, and 4 December. Receiving Feedback is scheduled for 6 August and 2 October.
Learn more about Susan’s programs and custom support for artists and organisations on Notable Values.
Image supplied: Susan captured by T Hamill.
Featured image by Danny Lines via Unsplash.
