You have the file
Five steps. Three are clicks, two are drags, none of them are typed. Each one below says what happens after you do it, so nothing on your screen is a surprise.
Step zero
One file. It unpacks into a folder with four things in it, and only two of them are ever dragged anywhere. Here is every single one, so nothing in that folder is a surprise.
You drag this one first. It tells Claude how to build your studio. Claude reads it and does everything itself.
You drag this one second, and only if you want to. It backs your work up to a private online copy so a lost laptop costs you nothing.
You never touch this. It is the installer itself. Claude finds it sitting next to file 1 and runs it for you. It is here so that nothing has to be downloaded while it works.
Optional reading. Exactly what gets created and where, if you would rather know before you run anything. You should always be able to read what you run.
You will also need the Claude app itself if you have not got it: it installs like any other program, and file 1 has the link in it.
The installation
You do five things. Three of them are clicks. Two of them are drags. Nothing is typed.
It installs like any other program. Once it opens, click the tab marked Code.
A window with a message box at the bottom. That is where things get dragged. On a Mac, if it warns about an unidentified developer, right-click the app and choose Open instead. That happens once, ever.
It unpacks into a folder with the four files listed above. Leave them all where they are: they need to stay next to each other.
A folder called Studio-Setup, most likely in your Downloads.
Drag the actual file from that folder into Claude's message box, the same way you would attach something to an email. Then press return and leave it alone.
Claude tells you what it found and where your studio is going. It builds it, about a minute, then runs its own check and reads every line of the result back to you. One of those lines is a real test where it tries a destructive command and gets refused, so you see the guard work rather than being told it exists. Then it asks you one question: what you actually do. Answer in a sentence. That answer is what makes it yours rather than generic.
Today, next week, or never. This one backs your studio up to a private online copy. Step 3 already gave you a full history on your own machine; this adds a copy that survives the laptop.
Claude checks what you already have, installs the one small tool it needs, and opens it for you to click through. Then it hands you an eight-character code and waits while you approve it in your browser. That login is the only thing in this whole process that nobody can do for you: not us, not any installer. Everything either side of it is handled. The copy it creates is private, always.
Point it at a real folder and describe something you want done. If you would rather be asked than have to think of something, say “interview me about my work, one question at a time.” It will ask, and then write your answers into its own standing instructions so it never has to ask again.
Add “just show me” to your first request. It will tell you what it found and what it would do, without doing it.
Once it is installed
Do these in order and you will know whether this is for you before your coffee goes cold.
Not a test folder: the real one. Ask what is actually in there, and add “just show me” so it reads without touching anything.
Ask for copies into a new folder, originals left alone. That shape (copies, new folder) is worth using forever.
Fifteen seconds, and you will trust it differently afterwards. A guard nobody has watched work is only a claim.
Say “interview me about my work, one question at a time.” It asks about what you make, how your folders are organised, what a finished job looks like, the task you dread, and what it must never touch: then writes your answers into its own standing instructions. Two minutes, and it never has to ask again.
The only part worth reading twice
No syntax. But four habits separate people who find this indispensable from people who quit in week one.
The most valuable habit and the only thing here worth memorising.
“Tell me what is in this folder, what is duplicated, what is older than a year. Do not move anything, just show me.”
Fast and literal. Vagueness gets interpreted rather than questioned: a person would ask, this picks a reasonable reading and gets on with it. One extra sentence saves an afternoon.
Instead of “tidy the invoices folder”, say “move anything older than two years into Archive, delete nothing, show me the list first.”
How you name things, how your folders work, what it must never touch. Say it once; it writes it down and every session after starts already knowing.
“From now on: documents are named client, year, type. Never touch the Signed folder. Always show me a plan before changing more than five files.”
Show it a finished thing you are happy with and it will match it.
“Here is last month's report. Build this month's from these numbers: same structure, same tone.”
Straight answers
Knowing these four up front is what stops you being disappointed in week two.
The tone never changes: a wrong answer arrives as calmly as a right one. Anything that matters still gets checked by you. Asking it to say where it was unsure helps a great deal.
It can tell you a document is inconsistent. It cannot tell you whether the deal is good or whether you should send it.
Each session starts fresh by default. Telling it your conventions once fixes this, and takes two minutes.
Unless told otherwise it may produce a plausible detail where it should have said “this is missing.” Ask it to flag gaps and it will.
Your call
Pick one at setup, change it any time by simply saying so. The two guards stay on in all three: this only changes how often it stops to check with you.
Asks before it changes anything at all. The right first week, and the right choice on a work or shared machine.
Gets on with work on your own files. Asks before anything leaves your machine or cannot be undone.
Only stops for the irreversible. For once you have watched it work and you trust it.
If something goes sideways
Six things that actually happen, and what to do about each. In every case the fix is to tell Claude what you are seeing, in your own words: it debugs itself better than it guesses.
One honest thing
It runs in a window with text in it. You will not be typing commands into that window; you type ordinary sentences, but the window is there, and we would rather you heard it here than met it by surprise. Everyone in this market says “no-code.” The truer sentence is that there is nothing to learn, not that there is nothing technical on screen.
Once it is running
Installed is not the same as useful. The next page is what you now have and how to use it: what to ask it for, how to make it know your work, and the one trade worth understanding. After that comes the masterclass, which is the part that separates people who get enormous value out of this from people who quit in week one.