My friend Sonny Adjoran, ex-AMV, now a CD at Engine, has created a fantastic project with his high-functioning autistic son, Woody.
Wood-ism is a collaboration between Woody’s remarkable mind and his dad’s artistic skills, turning some of Woody’s unique and wonderful phrases into a series of cards and linocut prints.
Buy here. Profits from sales go to Ambitious About Autism.
And here’s Woody visiting the poster gallery to see his work on display:
Nice one guys.
More on Instagram at Woodism_ink
Ever since I started in advertising I’ve found that it lends itself to some great stories. Maybe the valve salesmen, newsagents and accountants are similarly blessed, but I somehow doubt it.
Proximity to celebrities, foreign travel, big budgets, smart and funny people… Combine those elements and you often have tales worthy of repeating on a blog, even fifteen years after they happened.
I’ve heard quite a few, but there are plenty that must have passed me by, so I’m going to give you one of mine, and hopefully that will inspire you to give me one of yours…
In the middle of 2005 my agency, AMV BBDO, was working on the campaign for Make Poverty History. Mary Wear wrote the line, Paul Belford art directed it, and the rest of us came up with some nice little bits and pieces on the side.
Daryl and I created a poster for the Long Walk To Justice that then became the security lanyard for everyone at the Scottish leg of Live 8. It was worn by none other than George Clooney, the Proclaimers and the great Natasha Bedingfield. But that wasn’t the best bit.
A week or two before the concert our boss Peter Souter invited us along to the Portobello offices of the event’s primary driver, Richard Curtis. Ten or fifteen of us, seemingly selected at random, were seated on sofas around a coffee table.
“Right,” said Richard. “What we have to do today is work out the last song that will be sung at Live 8.”
Daryl and I looked at each other, checking that we’d both heard the same thing: we were to be among the people who might choose what Paul McCartney, The Who and Madonna would be singing at Hyde park in front of maybe a billion people.
Images of all those 1985 pop stars belting out ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’ at Wembley flashed before our eyes. In those non-war times, when none of us privileged white dudes were likely to become the next Mandela or Gandhi, this was probably the easiest path we could take to shaping some tangential semblance of ‘history’.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘I’d have chosen X, and that would have been the best and greatest choice, and that would be easy peasy’. Well, far be it from me to disabuse you of your hubris, but there were a few parameters that only appeared when it was time to shoot down a suggestion:
How about Heroes by David Bowie? Great vibe and message, but no one knows the words beyond ‘We could be heroes, just for one day’.
All You Need Is Love? That’s a Lennon song. You can’t ask McCartney to sing a Lennon song.
A re-do of Do They Know It’s Christmas? Come on. It’s happening in July.
I don’t remember anyone actually suggesting the winning number, but the afternoon was definitely one of those moments where I had no regrets about the career I’d chosen.
Thanks, Peter and Richard.
If you want to know the final choice, it was a Macca-friendly tune that anyone could sing along to ad infinitum:
Your move, blog reader…
About five years ago my wife bought me a Transcendental Meditation course for my birthday. I went down to a little house in Beverly Hills and spent about an hour a day for four days learning the practice.
Since then I’ve meditated for twenty minutes every day. I used to do it twice a day, but now I only do it in the mornings, after I brush my teeth, lying in bed with my cat on my chest.
Lots of very creative people, from the Beatles to Oprah Winfrey, practice TM, and David Lynch has even set up a foundation to promote it in schools and the armed forces (lots of info about that and TM in general can be found here).
Describing how it works and how it makes you feel is kind of tricky, but the TM people put it like this: your mind is like an ocean, and your normal consciousness is like the waves on the top: occasionally choppy and immediately subject to the positivity and negativity of external forces. But then there’s your deep consciousness, like the still infinity of the deep ocean. Things don’t really move around so much in that great vastness, so spending time down there is very calming and refreshing for your mental state. The practice is effortless and the sensation is remarkably pleasant.
If you’re prone to getting angry, stressed or anxious you might want to give TM a go. You might also find that tapping into that subconscious tranquility could help to reveal new layers of your creativity.
It worked for the Beatles and Mr. Lynch (and Paula Abdul). Why not see what it can do for you?
Hoo. Good afternoon, Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, Mark speaking. Please tell me, how may I direct the weekend?
The last great butler (thanks, G).
Scorsese and Tarantino get deep into some movie chat (thanks, A).
An octopus dreaming (thanks, J):
So we all know that creatives need to be creative. And last week I made the case for adding gumption to your skill set. But there’s one more ability you’ll require if you want to do well in an ad agency:
Just to be clear, diplomacy isn’t necessarily Machiavellian machinations, or smarmy charm. My dictionary tell me that it’s merely ‘skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility’.
Coming up with a great idea is one thing, but you need to know how and when to introduce it effectively, such that it gains positive acceptance, allowing it to move more smoothly through the ongoing layers of evaluation and execution.
If you bring it up in your office, accompanied by a subtle dig about your AD’s recent painful divorce, it may not get to the CD. Layer on the self-deprecation (‘You’ll probably think this is shit, but I did have this thought that could be dreadful, but… OK, I’ll just say it…’) and you might find that people see the worst in your idea before it has a chance to spread its wings . Chuck it into the room just after everyone’s agreed how great the other idea is and you might as well have wiped your bunghole with it.
(As a tip, I always found Friday mornings were best. There’s something about Friday mornings, and the way they tended to presage an informal half day, that put everyone in a better, more receptive mood.)
As in all areas of life, ad agency diplomacy could take many forms:
Laugh heartily to make someone look silly for even suggesting that thing you want to avoid (John Hegarty was known for doing this one).
Find an excellent piece of reference, or a brilliant old ad, to support your point (but say something that offsets the concern that you’re all about to steal something, like ‘Not exactly this, but something like the way the rabbit meets the frog’).
Add the words ‘to your point’ to make it seem like the whole thing was inspired by someone else in the room, bringing them onto your side.
Wait till the meeting’s over, then have a quiet chat with the real decision maker away from the ears of anyone who might piss on your idea.
Leave it till tomorrow because today’s vibe is just wrong.
Agree enthusiastically with the thing you don’t want, go to the loo, then come back pretending that you’ve suddenly come up with a great way of improving (destroying) that thing.
Get the other attendees of the meeting on your side before the meeting, so they’ll back you up in the meeting. Even the smartest CD or client can be swayed by unanimous supportive opinion.
Flatter your CD by telling them how much this ad reminds you of something great they once did.
You could try the ‘no diplomacy’ route, and in an ideal world these tactics wouldn’t be necessary, but let’s face facts: we all do this kind of thing all the time, often without even being aware of it, so why not do it at work?
Yes, Some people might actually appreciate you who presenting your work with grumpy aggression, because that might show how you’re so dedicated to the idea that you will not stand on ceremony. Good luck with that. I’ve seen it work, but not often. The vast majority of people prefer to avoid confrontation, and even if they appear politely receptive, that’s usually just a cover for some negative reactions that are coming down the pipe.
Treat the selling of your ad like any other brief: communicate its qualities in a way that will leave a positive impression.
Or go batshit crazy and cross your fingers.
Last week the peerless Mr. Dave Dye posted this on the socials:
But there’s one more thing that I like to see in a student book: evidence of gumption.
My online dictionary defines it as ‘shrewd or spirited initiative and resourcefulness’. What I’d say is that coming up with good ads will only get you so far. What also helps is to look at the circumstances to hand and make the most of them in a way that makes you stand out even further, and offers evidence of creativity beyond mere creativity.
Here are a few examples:
A team Daryl and I hired at Lunar were in the process of applying for a patent for their invention: a plate with a lip covered in a cloth material which meant it could be picked up straight from the oven without burning your fingers. They thought it would be especially good for Meals On Wheels, where elderly people might be more forgetful about heat, and plates are hot. Now, having that idea is good, but actually going through the process of making it is great. They learned a lot about manufacturing and bringing something to market, skills and knowledge that 99% of creatives will never have, but on top of that, they showed they had the ambition and drive to go the extra mile, a quality that’s essential when you want an extra hour on the grade, or a quick spec radio ad from your TV VO.
Talking of which, the team that came up with this award-winner had gumption:
As they filmed a longer, duller Nike golf ad, they noticed Tiger killing time by juggling a ball on his club. So they went over to him and asked if they could shoot him doing it. I have no idea what the other ad was.
When Tony McTear came up with this…
…the only way he could get a big enough budget for it was by selling it to each of the different national Playstation CMOs. They then put in each of their smaller piles of cash to until he had a big pile of cash, and a classic ad. Yes, it was a great creative idea, but it wouldn’t have happened without lots of lovely gumption.
Some of my jobs have just fallen into my lap, but others have required me to extend my own placement, or find out if another team were continuing theirs and stepping into the gap they left, or spend three years patiently moving metaphorical chess pieces around until the right vacancy opened up. Did I also have to be creative? Of course, but ‘shrewd or spirited initiative and resourcefulness’ was often more valuable.
So if you’re a young team, and for some strange reason you want to impress me, produce a YouTube clip with a million views, or make an app, or create a podcast where you interview Idris Elba and Vivienne Westwood about cheese. Dave’s advice is essential, but if you all follow it you’re going to need something else to set you apart.
And if it’s any good, it’s going to take gumption.