For creators
Review and delivery, for the people who make the work.
A photograph sent for a client’s eye, a cut waiting on a director’s notes, a mix that wants one more pass before it can be signed off — the work a studio makes tends to leave the building long before it is finished, and somewhere between the export and the reply, in a thread of emails and expiring transfers and screenshots with arrows drawn on them, the record of who said what, and when, quietly frays. Spaces gathers all of that back into one place: you send a link, the person you sent it to marks the exact frame or second or bar they mean, and their notes come home to the file itself, where you will still find them a year from now.
Photography
A note that knows exactly where it means.
Send a shot for review and the client can draw straight onto the frame — a pin on the light through the window, a box around the crop they are not sure of, a thought pinned to the very spot it is about — with no account to make and no downloading the file to mark it up somewhere else and mail it back. Because the note remembers where it was left, you are never again reading “the bit on the left, near the top” and squinting to guess which bit they meant.
The conversation inside the studio stays inside the studio, too: the marks your team leaves for one another never cross over onto the version the client sees, so you can be candid in the edit and considered on the share, on the very same frame.
1PriyaGuest
Pinned point 1The light through the window here is doing all the work — this is the one for the cover, isn’t it?
You
Good eye — pulling this into the selects now.
Film
Watch the cut, leave a note on the second.
Film is reviewed where it lives, in a player built for the job rather than a shared drive with a comments box bolted onto the side. A note left at nine seconds stays welded to nine seconds; versions sit one beside the last, so a fix reads as a fix and not as a fresh argument; and once something has been dealt with it is marked resolved, so the thread moves forward rather than circling. The director can be in Lisbon and the colourist in Leeds, and it makes rather little difference to where the notes end up.
v2- 0:09Marco the hand-off on the frame here is lovely — can we hold it a beat longer before the cut?
- 0:22You held it two frames longer, v2 up Resolved
- 0:37Elena the grade warms up nicely through the middle — really happy with this.
Sound
Hear the mix in full, and answer it in your own voice.
A mix can turn on half a decibel, and an approval sent as an MP3 quietly throws away the very thing you are being asked to judge, so Spaces streams the real file, losslessly, and buffers it whole before it plays — which means the client hears what you actually made rather than a convenient, slightly worse version of it, and a stumble on the wifi cannot drop a click into the middle of your master. The waveform sits right there to be scrubbed by eye, so a note lands on the bar you mean instead of a timestamp copied out by hand.
And when there is something to say, it can be said rather than typed. Hold the button and talk, or hum the line you can already hear in your head — the thing people reach for when words will not quite do it — and the note is pinned to the moment, kept as the actual recording so that tone and hesitation survive, and quietly transcribed so it stays searchable later. That transcription runs on a model we run ourselves, in Europe; nothing you send is used to train anything, by us or by anyone else.
Your actual recording is sent — they hear your voice, not a transcript of it.
And if a note is deleted, the recording is deleted with it — properly, from our storage, not merely hidden from the thread. It seems a small thing, perhaps, but a recording of someone’s voice is not a small thing to hold on to, and we would rather not keep it a moment longer than you would like us to.
Tim1:32Voice note
The low end’s lovely, but the vocal’s sitting a touch hot right through this section — maybe half a dB down and see how it feels?
Heard in full, off the real file — and if a note is deleted, the recording goes with it.
Made by people who send this work, too.
We take photographs and we make music, which is mostly to say we have stood at both ends of this — the end waiting on a sign-off, and the end trying to give a useful note through a tool that seems to be fighting the effort. Spaces is the thing we kept wishing existed: quiet, quick, carefully made, and honest about what becomes of your files once they are in it. Bring one project across and see whether it feels better; more often than not, it should.