I know a writer who uses her blog to journal and to express gratitude for all the blessings in her life…and that’s it! Unlike me, she’s not promoting an upcoming book, her office place, herself. She simply uses the blog to write about what’s happening in her life and to say thank you for another day. A gratitude list! Imagine that. So many of us (certainly me) use this medium to promote one thing or another. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that. The Gods of Advertising most certainly condone promotion.)
But what about God God? Does the Ultimate Authority view our endless cyber-chatter as egos run wild? Methinks He looks at my friend’s gratitude list with far more reverie than, say, my pithy prose about advertising –no matter how soulful I think it is!
How many souls are out there then, every morning and every night, using the Internet for personal growth, prayer and recovery? We all know about the gossips, the hate-mongers, authors, models, rock stars, and, yes, creative directors…
But the vast majority of “us” are not “them.” For every online Gawker there are countless geeks, regular folks expressing themselves for reasons known only to them…and God.
And even if there is no God, God forbid, I’m sure secular philosophers embrace the idea of ideating, audience or not. Let me explain. My friend’s blog may never receive a single visitor -no clicks, no comments, nothing. In this way it is like a diary, private and locked up. But a blog post is never truly private, is it? There is always the potential for audience. Somewhere somebody can find her. And that’s what makes her blog a prayer as well as meditation. Cyberspace is just more universe and God is most definitely wired. He’s online. He can hear your prayers. And he likely appreciates gratitude lists more than Top Ten lists.
Agency competition: The Boys of Summer?
June 25, 2008
Given we are in the so-called “creative awards” season I’d like to reflect on the notion of competition in our business. Hunting for awards is one of the ways we compete against each other. But the competition for new business is perhaps more grueling and, given one needs clients to make award-winning work, even more crucial to an agency’s livelihood.
In fact, I was so intrigued by the pursuit of new business, I actually wrote a book about it. The working title of that unpublished manuscript is “Fever Pitch” and it’s all about the pitching process and what it feels like to an agency and the people in it. I continue to be fascinated by rivalry between agencies, and the way in which we “play off” for a given client’s business.
The parallel to professional sports is both eerie and telling. Agencies are truly like ball clubs. We have coaches, star players, win-loss records, and even trade press following our progress.
Think about the competitive landscape in North America. Big cities (New York, Chicago, LA) have big agencies: JWT, Leo Burnett, DraftFCB as well as newer upstarts like my club, Euro RSCG. Smaller markets field some of the most competitive newcomers (relatively speaking), such as CP&B out of Miami and now Boulder. Or Fallon in Minneapolis. The metaphor gets better the more you play with it. For instance does not BBDO feel a lot like the New York Yankees? They win. They have pedigreed coaching. Big stars. And a stellar record in terms of new business and creative awards. I look at Crispin as an expansion team that shocked the world, kind of like the Tampa Bay Devil Rays during their World Series run. They might not like being tagged “lovable losers” but doesn’t Chicago’s own Leo Burnett remind one of the Chicago Cubs? Despite endless near misses and could haves and should haves, LBCO keeps pushing along, remaining a popular team regardless. And what about Management? Is Martin Sorrel the Steinbrenner of our business…or the Bill Wirtz?
Which team does your agency remind you of? And would you want to hang their pennant on your bedroom wall?
Drinking & Debauchery at Cannes: a sober view.
June 23, 2008
Judging from the online party pics of people getting their drink on at Cannes, you’d think this was Mardi Gras. Factor in the snarky commentary from certain creepy advertising blogs and suddenly it’s Girls Gone Wild!
Let me give it to you straight, my report from the field, after the fact:
As some of you know, I don’t drink alcohol anymore and haven’t in over 5 years. So, it was not without trepidation I took part in the nightly debauches along the Croisette. Without belaboring the obvious, this was a liquor soaked affair, with Rose’ and Chablis consumed all day, then champagne and beer guzzled long into the night, until it became day again, and the cycle continued… for seven days and seven nights. In that time God created the earth, but in Cannes it’s the drinking that’s biblical and the only thing created are hangovers. That and whopping expense account issues.
All this was true. But so what? Drinking with clients and drinking with your boss and drinking at night with the boys. Watch any episode of Mad Men. Drinking and advertising go together and way back.
Nothing epitomizes Cannes’ zeitgeist like the infamous Gutter Bar. Also called 72 Rue, this corner café has become the last watering hole in Cannes, where every soul still standing gathers for a final, final, final. It is reported that the Gutter Bar makes more money during the advertising festival than any other time during the year. Way more. The joke is that after the week is over, the owners are so flush they close the place for the rest of the summer. If you saw the nightly crowds, you wouldn’t be at all surprised. This is where thirsty elephants go to die and I inhabited its periphery like a tourist observing wildlife.
It’s not so tough not drinking. Not anymore. And certainly not from this vantage point. In many ways the throng really did look like so many creatures waiting to die. Sweaty, sunburned, standing in their own spillage. Perhaps some thought of mating instead. As it got later, the Congolese hookers swooped in like vultures. They would satisfy the drunk and horny and then pick their carcasses of cash and jewelry. Or not. A friend observed such a lady move from drunk to drunk, not able to rouse any takers. Though I salute my advertising comrades for their sense and sensibility, I found her predicament somehow sadder without tricks turned. She no longer had the goods. She was an ineffective ad for herself. Of course, I seldom bore witness as my bar tour concluded well before most folks’ began.
And then, of course, there’s the Leopard Ladies, a mother and daughter team who’ve silently patrolled the festival and its parties forever. Always donning the same spotted attire, every year, every night, at least as long as I’ve been going. No one is certain their raison d’etre, only that they are either coming or going. Never stopping. Not speaking. Odd as hell.
The only time I missed drinking was when I forced myself to stay up late, which was every night. The evening really does begin at midnight. Then, I pined for the time-stretching quality alcohol has, its ability to fill spaces and create meaning. With a drink, the endless LOUD music would not have been so annoying. Maybe even Deitloff and his rap about brilliant radio wouldn’t have been so annoying. I know goddam well waiting 40 minutes for a menu would not have been so annoying!
That said I was happy nursing my Coca Cola Light, watching all my fellow clowns in this advertising circus.
At home, this is irrelevant. I go to bed.
Poaching Lions: the bloodlust of Deitloff
June 21, 2008
I’m at the Leo Burnett Party (another global disco affair, this time at the Palm Casino), a German creative director –I’ll call him Deitloff- asks me how I’m doing. I say I’m doing fine, it’s the south of France, the weather is delightful, my wife and I haven’t fought in days… Deitloff stops me. “No, I mean how are you doing with ze Lions?” Oh. That. Well, I tell him, “I got my clock cleaned.” Probably not understanding the reference, he walks off into the laser strobes wondering what the hell is wrong with these Americans.
Deitloff’s sweaty, German intensity about winning Lions bears discussion. Because, there is, and always will be, an obsessive majority of Lion hunters at Cannes. Indeed, around the world, so many creative departments are shaped around this festival. A former colleague told me his current agency in Paris assembles a group of its most promising creatives 6 months in advance of Cannes and its only job is to develop creative to win at Cannes. How it works is the creative is done for current clients without their knowledge and then introduced to them later, packaged with other work from another brief. In America we call this “pork.”
What do you think, Gentle Reader –Is this a brilliant strategy or a bogus move? Either way, it does increase the chances of winning. It also is a breeding ground for scam ads or what the French agencies like to call “ghosts.” If bunches of beautiful campaigns are done in advance of Cannes, and only a few get bought by real clients, what happens to all those gorgeous adverts standing in line? They sneak in.
According to my source, even those that do get “bought” by the client are often masquerading as legitimate. In fact, the client has only given the work his tacit approval. The agency pays for its production. If the client has offered any money whatever it generally has come from another budget’s slush fund. Pork. No wonder, then, so many glorious 2-page spreads at the festival but not in magazines and newspapers!
Often this “legitimate” advertising gets a free ride to the awards ceremony because the real fake ads are considered the ones for law firms and restaurants, small businesses that clearly have no advertising budgets.
But scam ads take many forms. When Lion hunting is taken very seriously there is likely to be some poaching. Ask Deitloff, if you can pry him from the dance floor.
Hunting Lions…or new business?
June 20, 2008
From my post on Adweek…
There is business being conducted in Cannes. Even if it is disguised as revelry or covered in suntan oil, there are deals getting done…or undone. Relationships are forged between old clients and new agency contacts and visa versa. Without naming names (sorry), I find myself walking back to my hotel with the CEO of a rival agency. As it turns out, we both are meeting with the same client but at different times during the week. Should have been awkward but yet it wasn’t. Not as much as you’d think, anyway. True, one of us would likely have a better meeting than the other, with different outcomes. Yet, I didn’t feel like much of an adversary and nor, I felt, did he. Maybe it was the bright sunshine and warm temperatures, conspicuously absent since our arrival. Or deeper still, perhaps we both new that shit happens in advertising, that all business is cyclical, and that really there isn’t that much difference between either one of us, our agencies, or anyone here. Another view would suggest that the main competition was up the street in the Palais. By my count his agency was faring better than mine in its hunt for Lions. Only fair then, that we go after some of the game on his land!
Lion hunting? Is it justified?
June 19, 2008
This post ran earlier today on Adweek. But you, gentle reader, get the photo.
One of the prevailing topics in Cannes, surprisingly, is whether this festival is… justifiable. I struggle choosing that last word the way many here struggle with the pull and push of Cannes. I’ve overheard or participated in several conversations basically asking the question: “Why are we here?” (Funny, these ambivalent opinions are seldom brought up in the weeks before the festival. Methinks we all want our feet planted firmly on the Croissette before questioning why!)
Many (myself included) have a love/hate relationship with Cannes. We love the South of France. We enjoy seeing all our friends and peers in the business, as well as meeting new ones. And the quantity and quality of creativity from around the world is, indeed, inspiring.
But –and it’s a big hairy but- do we really need a week long party in Southern France? Is that justifiable? A member of the trade press told me he spent last night wining and dining with the same handful of people he sees every day at work. Put that way the festival does seem gratuitous.
But it is also a celebration of what makes our business so terrific in the first place: Creativity. Here, we cannot help be reminded of that. And it’s a reminder many in our business probably need. Which is why I am thrilled to be joined by more and more clients and members of our own management teams. Doing exceptional work is a big deal. And making it is one of the most rewarding “jobs” in the world. Cannes is living proof.
Alert! I wrote this for Adweek’s Cannes blogger series (Thank you, Adweek!) and now I’d like to share it with readers here.
Met with Gary Smith, editor of the Cannes Daily (the festival’s newspaper) to discuss my workshop at the Palais on Friday. The workshop is entitled “Inspiring Belief: turning consumers into believers.” The central idea is that advertisers need to go beyond communicating a strategic framework if they hope to engender a passionate following for their brands. We’ll look at how religion makes this happen for their “brands” and what implications this has on the future of marketing.
Think about the creative mythology behind Christianity. Among his many miracles, Jesus Christ was able to walk on water. His disciples were compelled to “do unto others…” Is it blasphemous to suggest modern day advertisers need to model their messaging the same way? Nike would have us believe not. With a pair of shoes, Michael Jordan could walk on air. And by donning a pair of Air Jordans, so can we –A miracle! “Just do it” has become the clarion call for an entire nation. We are devoted to sports like never before and Nike is the reason. Michael Jordan was our “messiah.” More recent communications ask us not to merely watch LeBron James play basketball but to “bear witness.”
I continue to be fascinated by creative propaganda and the parallels it has with cults, movements and religion. These themes are central to my blog, Godsofadvertising as well as in my upcoming novel, The Happy Soul Industry. I believe the overlap is unavoidable in our business. Nor should it be.
Besides Nike, we have seen this phenomenon working with other brands (Apple, Harley Davidson, Altoids). Can you name some more? Starbucks managed to become a church for its customers without advertising much at all. But now they are losing share. What will there approach be now that they need advertising.?
Hard as it is reaching such branding nirvana, I believe advertisers must aspire to do so in order to compete in a crowded and noisy marketplace. Chasing Gold Lions is but pagan ritual compared to this loftiest of goals. Yet, the best ideas on earth will be the ones that do so. Amen!
Facebook Gump: “Life is like a box of friends”
June 15, 2008
Late to the Facebook sandbox, I stand by its side, wary of all the friendsters cavorting within. Do I want to go there at all? Do I want so many friends?
I’d aborted my foray into MySpace one week after joining. Too many fake babes falsely coming on to me. I’d accepted the first few gals as a novelty but, fearing reprisal from my wife or anyone else who happened upon the harem, I abandoned “MyBrothel” forever. Once in a while, I get an email from some Serena beckoning me like a siren.
Needless to say, I didn’t want to create another experience like that. Yet, the only way to become versed in social networks is to join one…or many. To avoid them altogether seems no different than avoiding texting, HDTV or any other social-technological advances. As I’ve said before, our business exists in front of trends (or wants to, anyway); to not go there is to not know the consumer. Suicide.
But Facebook feels more legit, less tawdry. So I dive in like a retard. The ad world is relatively small. What if I could “friend” all who are in it? I know this is insane (as well as undesirable) hence my use of the word retard.
I adored collecting things as a child: comics, stamps, rocks, bugs, etc. I’m also an addictive personality, which means I can become obsessive about any new drug. Facebook enables both these DNA strands to flourish like weeds.
I am not alone. Friends are guppies on Facebook. And guppies make more guppies. Judging by everyone’s collection of friends, everyone on Facebook is the most popular kid in class. And maybe that’s the biggest key to its massive popularity. Now any doofus can have a robust peer group. Including me!
Be my new best friend. Find me on Facebook.
FYI: Posting from Cannes on AdFreak!
Life is a commercial; I see “spots” in my eyes.
June 12, 2008
As a boy, I pretended my eyes were camera lens. Moving my head was like moving a camera. I “directed” my eyes. I’d look at this object and that person, imagining them as mise en scene (what you put) in the ongoing film of my life.
Every time I blinked represented a “cut” in that film. Disparate images cut together visually forming my moods, setting a tone. For effect, sometimes I blinked rapidly, or flash cut, on the same object: say, a woman dancing, creating a strobe similar to the one popularized in the film, Flashdance. If I followed a specific person for an inordinate period of time without blinking that was the “long take.” I believe Orson Welles (Touch of Evil) and Alfred Hitchcock (Rope) created this move but I became its master. When I ran, my eyes took in the passing scenery like a tracking shot. Jogging created the “shaky cam,” which seemed to heighten my reality. Chasing a fish underwater, be-snorkeled, my eyes were like the cameras of Jacques Cousteau.
Like most filmmakers I loved to “shoot” at dusk when the light was perfect. I’m not a morning person so I usually missed dawn’s “golden hour.” My eyes like being closed at 6 AM. Speaking of shuteyes, staring at a specific object long enough I could then capture its essence upon shuttering mine, burning the image into my mind. An arty effect, I used the technique sparingly.
A few weeks ago on this blog (May 14: Dreaming in Ads. What would Freud say?), I speculated that TV commercials were like waking dreams, that these countless brief films, or photographs, pandered to our desires, or emanated from them, much like dreams.
Furthering this idea, what if everything we view are commercials? Do we stare at a car because we want it or do we come to want it by staring? People, places and things have become subject matter, content. We direct our head at them and shoot. We are all consumers. We are all media. And we are all creators as well. You Tube and Facebook exploit this idea. Yet, what I am talking about is even faster than those, and far more personal. It’s as personal as it gets.
Everything we look at is… commercial, is… advertising, is…content. But we cannot alter these commercials in post. They are as transient as air, subtle yet crucial.
So, in a week I go to Cannes for the international advertising festival. It will be my sixth visit, the third since joining Euro RSCG and the first time bringing my wife. I cannot pretend that Cannes isn’t a big deal; it is. I will not pretend that Cannes isn’t the grand daddy of boondoggles; it is.
Two things mark this trip for me. The first I already mentioned: I’m bringing my spouse. While Susan has been to Cannes before she’s never been to the advertising festival. I wonder what she’ll think of it and, by turns, me. There’s right and wrong about celebrating thousands of advertisements as if they were important films.
Nothing wrong with the venue, however. If Cannes is good enough for TomKat and Branjolina, it’s good enough for us. It’s the South of France in June. ‘Nuff said. Oddly enough, the Palais des Festivals, though arguably the most famous movie theater in the world, is also one of the tackiest. But we’re here to look at the work, right?
Palais des Festivals. Tres rouge!
Is it wrong to hold advertising in such high regard? Drinking the Kool-Aid would be much easier sans wife. She’s a regular person. Will she find the festival much ado about nothing? Mon Dieu!
And what about the ad folk? How will she find us? We are not known as, or ever will be known as, beautiful people. On the contrary, we can be an obnoxious and ungrateful lot. Winning and/or losing at awards shows only heightens the problem. There will be plenty of both. Envy and schadenfreud are apt to flow like cheap wine at the Gutter Bar.
Another unusual bit, this year I have to sing for my supper. I’m hosting a workshop: Ideas that Inspire Belief. It’s actually a cool talk; I’ve given it before. As a matter of fact it’s what Gods Of Advertising and my upcoming novel, The Happy Soul Industry are all about. “We make you want what you don’t need.” In the discussion I compare religion with branding. Nike with Christianity. Jesus Christ with Michael Jordan.
Provocative…silly…both? Maybe I should have run it by my wife.
poster design, Paul Janas
