I went home relatively early last night. It was raining Katz and
Schwartz and it's been a hellish week and it's just before a three-day weekend
and I wanted to get the hell out of the sweatbox they call an office.
My partner and I had endured round seventeen (thanks, Rich) of the
endless roadshow we must all now travel to sell a campaign. Even selling
something slight these days takes literally dozens of meetings.
We are living, remember, in the "Participation Age." So there's always some nimrod whose contribution is salient to the point of having you put page numbers on the fucking presentation. Of course you need put page numbers because meetings don't happen nowadays without half the attendees not being there. They "attend" by phone. Which means everyday we are subject to about 45 minutes of hideous hold music and every meeting has to start with the obligatory "let's go around the room and say who's here."
We are living, remember, in the "Participation Age." So there's always some nimrod whose contribution is salient to the point of having you put page numbers on the fucking presentation. Of course you need put page numbers because meetings don't happen nowadays without half the attendees not being there. They "attend" by phone. Which means everyday we are subject to about 45 minutes of hideous hold music and every meeting has to start with the obligatory "let's go around the room and say who's here."
If you have to be announced in my opinion, you're not really
there. Your contribution should announce your attendance.
But, as usual, I digress.
Something we're not allowed to do anymore, though we're supposed
to tell stories, we're meant to tell only "linear" stories, which are
stories without elan, wit, humor and surprise.
But, as usual, I digress.
Last night was another one of those meetings where the people on
the other end of the phone or the other side of the table can only say
"no." It's like Flamenco dancing through a Soviet minefield. Boom!
We have two more of those "only no" meetings. Until we
finally get to the meeting where someone can say "yes."
Along the way my partner and I have spent about 12 times the time
making decks than in thinking about the campaign we are developing.
The work is unimportant.
What's important is that the "deck is almost there."
The work hasn't materially changed in a month.
But the deck! You should see it! It shines like that of the
Pequod. We've been down on our hands and knees, stripped to the waist and
gleaming with sweat like sea-men of yore, polishing that deck. Swabbing that
deck. Putting that deck in fine fettle.
A deck's a deck for a' that.
We have, as an industry, forgotten that decks don't run on
television. No deck has ever appeared in the upfront or on a billboard or in a
banner ad.
The deck is that which gets thrown out after the meeting, killing
birch and willow and pine along the way.
Years ago the great Tibor Kalman wrote “FUCK COMMITTEES (I believe
in lunatics). If you haven't read it, or haven't read it in a while, it's below.
Let's update it for the Modern Ad Agency.
FUCK DECKS (I believe in creative work).
FUCK COMMITTEES
Tibor
Kalman
(I believe in lunatics)
It’s about the struggle between individuals with jagged passion in their work and today’s faceless corporate committees, which claim to understand the needs of the mass audience, and are removing the idiosyncrasies, polishing the jags, creating a thought-free, passion-free, cultural mush that will not be hated nor loved by anyone. By now, virtually all media, architecture, product and graphic design have been freed from ideas, individual passion, and have been relegated to a role of corporate servitude, carrying out corporate strategies and increasing stock prices. Creative people are now working for the bottom line.
It’s about the struggle between individuals with jagged passion in their work and today’s faceless corporate committees, which claim to understand the needs of the mass audience, and are removing the idiosyncrasies, polishing the jags, creating a thought-free, passion-free, cultural mush that will not be hated nor loved by anyone. By now, virtually all media, architecture, product and graphic design have been freed from ideas, individual passion, and have been relegated to a role of corporate servitude, carrying out corporate strategies and increasing stock prices. Creative people are now working for the bottom line.
Magazine editors have lost their editorial independence,
and work for committees of publishers (who work for committees of advertisers).
TV scripts are vetted by producers, advertisers, lawyers, research specialists,
layers and layers of paid executives who determine whether the scripts are dumb
enough to amuse what they call the ‘lowest common denominator’. Film studios
out films in front of focus groups to determine whether an ending will please target
audiences. All cars look the same. Architectural decisions are made by
accountants. Ads are stupid. Theater is dead.
Corporations have become the sole arbiters of cultural
ideas and taste in America. Our culture is corporate culture.Culture used to be
the opposite of commerce, not a fast track to ‘content’- derived riches. Not so
long ago captains of industry (no angels in the way they acquired wealth)
thought that part of their responsibility was to use their millions to support
culture. Carnegie built libraries, Rockefeller built art museums, Ford created
his global foundation. What do we now get from our billionaires? Gates? Or
Eisner? Or Redstone? Sales pitches. Junk mail. Meanwhile, creative people have
their work reduced to ‘content’ or ‘intellectual property’. Magazines and films
become ‘delivery systems’ for product messages.
But to be fair, the above is only 99 percent true.
I offer a modest solution: Find the cracks in the wall.
There are a very few lunatic entrepreneurs who will understand that culture and
design are not about fatter wallets, but about creating a future. They will
understand that wealth is means, not an end. Under other circumstances they may
have turned out to be like you, creative lunatics. Believe me, they’re there
and when you find them, treat them well and use their money to change the
world.
Tibor Kalman
New York
June 1998
New York
June 1998
I feel your pain, George.
ReplyDeleteBut I do miss the spamming comments and I am sad you discovered the comment moderator.
Sounds exactly like what my boss Paul Warner would say. We are privileged to be able to pull the purse strings of some of the wealthiest brands, ad men are. We might as well use their money to do some good; to change people's lives Paul will say.
ReplyDeleteHis mouth does write some hefty puritan cheques, it does. His ass you muse, does it ever cash the cheques, you ask?
See some case studies here www.metropolitanrepublic.com.