THE INTERVIEW SERIES – Junior - Celebrating life at the bottom

Aug 05, 10

The Interview Series // 33

What do you get when you mix up two cool kids, no money, and a shit load of imagination? Tin & Ed (http://www NULL.tinanded NULL.com NULL.au/) told us all sorts of crazy things about starting out as designers. Not only were they young-en’s that started their own kick-ass studio (http://www NULL.tinanded NULL.com NULL.au/) straight out of Uni, they’re now represented by the one and only Jacky Winter Group (http://jackywinter NULL.com/) and are wrapping Australian design into a tornado of coloured paper and loopy costumes. Look at those outfits! They’re super cool bananas!

Jr: First of all, tell us how you guys met and started out.

Ed: In the Melbourne Design Guide it said we met in Vietnam designing a punk rock magazine.

Tin: We did meet designing punk rock magazine but we didn’t meet in Vietnam.

Ed: It does make it sound like I picked Tin up in Vietnam.

Tin: I was the punk rock kid on the street.

Jr: That’s so funny.

Tin: We met at Uni, at Swinburne, at the end of first year. Ed was in multimedia and I was in graphic design.

Ed: I did visual arts, and then I took a year off, and then started up at Swinburne doing multimedia. The good thing about Swinburne was that there was a major class that was with everybody else so I got to meet the graphic guys, and got to see what they were doing. I was much more interested by what they were doing, so I fought like hell to transfer over into graphic design – so I was in Tin’s class in second year.

Jr: Did you start working on projects together?

Tin: We had this collective with two other guys, John and Pete. We worked together and did things like magazine covers, which we thought was what graphic design was… We designed just one cover together which was completely ridiculous.

Ed: Neither of us are very punk.

Tin: We did it as an opportunity to do something outside of Uni, which in the long run was really good for us because you have real clients, and real deadlines.

Ed: Uni didn’t like it at all.

Jr: They didn’t like you doing stuff outside of class?

Tin: They didn’t make it easy for you to do it because they have so many projects, and they weren’t adaptable enough for you to actually try and include your external projects.

Ed: I think it’s a little bit of a shame that you can’t say, I’ve got this real world project – can I build it into one of these fictitious projects – and it’s like no, you can’t do that. And from a folio point of view that was one of the biggest things in terms of getting work. If you can say, this is the stuff that my lecturer asked me to do, and this is my real world stuff, I think that’s really important.

Jr: I would imagine that any employer would look far more favourably on someone that had real world work.

Tin: Exactly. We wanted to work together and they didn’t know how to mark us that way. It was a constant fight with the system and it wasn’t flexible enough for us to work the way we wanted to work. They want you to work in a particular sort of way. They train you up to be a junior designer for a design studio. That’s their goal for you, and that’s not really what we wanted to do. So there was a conflict there and I think that made it difficult. But, I’m glad that we went through it…

Ed: I think the art of Uni is that you’ve got all this criteria to meet, but you also have to try and work out how you can still do what you want to do. I think that’s pretty much the only way I got through it — by changing or engineering a brief to be something that I was actually interested in.

Tin: We saw a lot of people coming out of Uni who didn’t want to be designers anymore. What they were probably really saying was that they didn’t want to be that kind of designer. There’s all that confusion there. I don’t know what it’s like now though.

Ed: The biggest thing for us was that we realised that marks were totally irrelevant, and at the end of it you really need to have something strong that you‘re happy to sit down and talk about…

Tin: That you are proud of…

Ed: Even if you didn’t get a good mark.

Jr: It is so subjective.

Tin: Yes, it is really subjective. I remember they were teaching us all this stuff about design and what it should be. Some lecturers don’t allow you to put your own personal spin on what you’re doing, and I don’t really agree with that. Shouldn’t design be something that you do because you are enjoying it, and you are doing it as much for yourself as for the client? Don’t you get a better result if you are doing something for yourself as well?

Ed: I think it still is all about the client. But, I think you can do both. Something we try to do, and what we feel makes our work stronger, is when we are interested and passionate about it – and that’s when we are invested in it. We do things we are interested in at the time, things that we want to explore, in a way it’s really just for ourselves but we are connecting that back to the client too. We are not just going off and doing whatever the hell we want, it’s really is about making those connections and bringing them back to the client.

Jr: Does the client ever shun that sort of reason?

Tin: I think we’ve been lucky in that. For the most part we’ve had some really open clients, we don’t really get too many clients that are too prescriptive about what they want which is good for us because generally we are interested in very different things at different points in time and…

Ed: I think we can always say why things are the way they are.

Tin: We think a lot about things so it is not like we are going ‘let’s just make stuff out of paper’. There are an infinite amount of answers to any given problem. If you can do something you are interested in, that also works really well for the client too, then you are both happy. And you’ll do a better job.

Ed: You’re building on the concepts with the client in mind. The final outcome will be representational of that. It doesn’t really matter what it is.

Jr: One of the most interesting things about you guys is that you didn’t work anywhere before you got together. When did you decide to create Tin and Ed? Was Next Wave the start?

Tin: We got the Next Wave project, which was the day we finished Uni.

Ed: That was crazy…

Tin: I think I was at Kinko’s crying because my film wasn’t coming out, and I got the call. We didn’t expect to get it because when we had the meeting with them, they asked if we could design a 100 page publication and we were like yes! But we’d never done anything like it. At Uni when you design a magazine you do the cover, the contents page and a double page. We just said yes to being able to do everything.

Jr: So how the hell did you get the job?

Tin: I think they must have liked our ideas and we also had a quite big folio of work that we had done as well. Then, they gave us an office, in their office; it was a little room, just a side room.

Ed: It was a pretty amazing project. We didn’t know anyone, and we were surrounded by all these artists. We immediately became part of the community.

Tin: That was really good because we met the Crumpler guys who we have done heaps of work for and as a starting point, it was really fantastic.

Jr: When that finished what happened next?

Tin: That did go on for a long time. We started working for Crumpler (http://www NULL.crumpler NULL.com/au/) and people just started coming to us with projects because the Crumpler stuff had such a large exposure, and people really liked it. Then, we moved into our studio here, and the work just kept coming in.

Ed: I suppose the other thing, because we haven’t been in a studio, or this is the way I see it, we haven’t got used to earning a decent wage…

Tin: It was a long time before we started really earning. You are just scraping by but that’s the way it is. I think because we have never really had proper jobs before it didn’t matter because we were doing what we wanted and…

Ed: I’ve spoken to guys who’ve been in studios and gone on and done their own thing, they find it much, much harder.

Tin: They can’t do it because they are living off half the amount of money that they had so it was good that we just skipped the whole getting paid.

Jr: Did you have jobs at coffee shops or something?

Tin: No, never, we had to live off what we made.

Ed: It was definitely tough…

Tin: When you first come out of Uni you still have that crazy energy to make stuff and that really can take you a long way and I think that sustained us for a long time. We got really burnt out because we were working seven days a week and we took five days off a year.

Ed: Remember the time we worked Boxing Day or something stupid?

Tin: Yes. And New Years Eve.

Jr: Where does that motivation come from?

Tin: I think it was just this energy that we had from finishing Uni and just all of a sudden we were able to do what we wanted..

Jr: You had a real sense of purpose to what you were doing.

Tin: Yes, it was like, this is our life. This is what we are doing. We still have that feeling now, but I think it is a little more controlled.

Ed: I think it is also realising that your off time is really important, and that having weekends is actually a more productive thing to do – because when you are working you want to be working, instead of feeling overworked.

Tin: We got really burnt out at one point, and now we try to cultivate the creativity by having time off and going overseas, and taking the time to do things which will actually refill our creative reservoir.

Ed: Because when you’re working all the time, there ends up being nothing left.

Tin: What we were doing was amazing, really awesome work, but it wasn’t sustainable at all, you couldn’t keep on going with that forever because you would probably just decide not to be a designer anymore. It’s not really healthy to be working seven days a week forever, but for that time we just had this crazy energy.

Ed: We still do when we have to, certainly when the deadlines are crazy. When we get a big job that’s just part of what you have to do.

Jr: Are your friends hard working artists too?

Tin: Yes. We are surrounded by lots of really amazing creative people. I think that’s the best part of being in Melbourne. Everyone is really supportive of each other and everyone works really hard.

Jr: Have you had kids asking for internships or work experience?

Tin: We get a lot of people who want internships from France for some reason.

Jr: Really?

Tin: Yes, I’m not really sure…

Jr: You guys are big in France.

Tin: I don’t know, maybe, I really don’t know, but we get a lot of emails from them.

Ed: It has been quite funny because we have updated our website relatively recently and it’s good because the people asking to do work experience, the caliber of their work…

Tin: It’s completely increased, and it makes you feel good. We’d really like to bring someone else in.

Jr: On a full time type of thing?

Tin: No, just work experience, generally when we are working on big projects we will involve all our friends and stuff. The studio is called Tin & Ed, we don’t really want to expand…

Ed: I think we like the idea of collaborating. That is really what we do, when we get a lot of work on or whatever we get other people involved. It’s collaboration.

Jr: Collaboration rather than come work for us.

Tin: We like working with other people, I think lots of different people.

Ed: I think you get much better results when you are collaborating, you get someone that’s awesome, that can do stuff that we can’t do from a totally different point of view.

Jr: Where to now? What’s the plan, do you just want to work somewhere cool and be with your friends until the end of your days?

Ed: That’s a big question isn’t it.

Tin: We have lots of ideas.

Ed: We have lots of plans.

Jr: You’ve just got to pick one and run with it.

Tin: I don’t think it’s necessarily having to choose one, I think that we can have a few plans. We are very easily bored so I think that it is good to have a few plans that we can go with.

Ed: Really one of the biggest things that we’ve done is having this business adviser because essentially what she does is really simple. She asks us what we want to do and how we are going to do it – so it’s working out what are the things involved, and when are you going to do it by. It is very simple, but then she’ll come back to us next time and ask how we went with those things. It’s really great because we keep that going and to have somebody there…

Tin: Somebody who you have to answer to. She tells us that every time we finish a project we have to reward ourselves. So, we always have oysters…

Ed: That’s a big thing, we do owe ourselves quite a few oysters.

Tin: We used to do it religiously, maybe we can do it today.

Ed: I think we should do it. But she is really good at helping us feel like we are going somewhere. It is one thing to set goals but to realise you are actually achieving them is a really good thing, because then I know within myself I feel better about it, it’s like I’m not running around in circles with no idea.

Tin: I think that our plans are to work on more collaborative projects with other people, like product based collaborations and also our own..

Ed: We’ve got shit loads of exhibitions coming up.

Tin: We have four exhibitions this year, two of them are solo shows, two in Melbourne and two in Sydney so we’ll be busy with that.

Ed: There is heaps of stuff that is happening and I guess we don’t need to make that many plans this year because there is so much to do already. But we will definitely continue to make plans beyond that.

Jr: What’s the best way to get you involved in a project?

Tin: Email us and tell us about the project you are working on. We have been involved in agency projects really early and also conceptual stuff as well – we used to do a lot of conceptualising for publicists.

Ed: My favourite thing is to follow a project right the way through so the best thing is to start off talking about what ideas you might have for the project.

Tin: That is, if you have a slight idea and want help developing it. But even the smaller projects, the projects where we have been brought in later have been enjoyable. We really like the agency work actually. It’s always been really, really fun and challenging and we have always gotten a lot from them.

Jr: Any advice for kids who are just finishing Uni and want to start their own studio?

Tin: I say go for it, I guess that’s all you can really say isn’t it. It’s a scary sort of thing.

Ed: Just work hard…

Tin: I think that you have to be prepared to work really hard when you are starting and you have to be prepared not to have very much money and…

Ed: I think pretty much anyone can do it.

Tin: But you also have to decide what sort of studio you want it to be, because you have to be selective about the sorts of jobs that you get. What’s in your folio is the sort of work that you will get; so only put the sort of work that you want to do in your folio. I think that’s probably good advice.

Also posted in ART, DESIGN | Tags: TIN & ED

Jun 11, 10

The Interview Series // 32

Back in 1998, the distinguished dewd pictured above, Luke Sullivan, (http://twitter NULL.com/heywhipple) wrote a book called Hey Whipple, Squeeze this (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Hey-Whipple-Squeeze-This-Advertising/dp/0470190736/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1269151763&sr=1-1). In the twelve years since its release, Hey Whips has become THE go-to book for all aspiring advertising creatives. There are several reasons why this is the case, but the only one really worth knowing is because Luke has that innate quality to call bullshit and talk straight. A quality that all great admen and women certainly seem to have. Unequivocally speaking, Luke Sullivan is THE man–he’s funny as hell and makes your dad seem like the uncoolest man alive. These days you’ll find Luke at GSD&M (http://ideacity NULL.com/) in Austin, Texas (http://maps NULL.google NULL.com/maps/ms?doflg=ptk&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=102594856052860215342 NULL.00048895d4ddeb59f9425&ll=5 NULL.344985,-164 NULL.79728&spn=134 NULL.70471,324 NULL.667969&t=h&z=3&iwloc=00048895d4e694e67dd83) where he is Senior VP / Managing Group Creative Director, making cool shit, doing interviews like this, and writing a pretty damn good blog (http://www NULL.heywhipple NULL.com/). So, for all you ad kids out there, read on, get the low-down, then buy the book (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Hey-Whipple-Squeeze-This-Advertising/dp/0470190736/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1269151763&sr=1-1) if you haven’t already.

Junior: Hey Luke, how did you get your very first break in the industry?

Luke Sullivan: I entered the agency business from the fringes. I was a typesetter for the in-house agency of a department store in Minneapolis called Dayton’s. It no longer exists, but the brown building is still there. (In fact, you can still see it in the credits for the old Mary Tyler Moore show (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=zCL3B5LgUCo). They shot the part where she throws her hat up in the air in front of Dayton’s.) But I digress. I had a second job at night being what they then called a ‘keyliner’ at a weekly newspaper called the Twin Cities Reader. One day, I found a small publication listing the winners of the local advertising show and I was smitten by how cool the work was coming from a particular pair of people: Ron Anderson and Tom McElligott. I put together what has to be the worst beginner¹s book in the history of advertising, took it in, and somehow got a job. I also had a contact with the president of that agency through my college buddy. Kinda did both at once. And it worked.

J: Okay, fill us young pups in: What did a “keyliner” do?

L: Today, you would call a keyliner a studio person. You executed ads based on what an art director specified. The even-more-ancient word was “paste-up.”

J: Most people who start in typesetting become art directors. When did you start writing – or had you always been a writer?

L: I was in between. I liked to draw. And I liked to write. And as a kid I got to do both when I made my own comic books. By college, though, I knew. I liked writing.

J: What made you decide to write ‘Hey, Whipple, Squeeze this’ (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Hey-Whipple-Squeeze-This-Advertising/dp/0470190736/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1269151763&sr=1-1)?

L: I wrote Whipple when I was at Fallon in Minneapolis. I had been saving speeches and articles for a few years in a file and then gradually I started adding other people’s advice, insights, and articles. The file eventually grew unruly and bad-tempered and would barely fit in my drawer. Then one day I had to give a speech at the Portfolio Center in Atlanta and raided that file for all it was worth. In Atlanta, I handed out the notes of the speech and later learned that the notes were turning up as screen savers in agencies here and there. In addition to being flattered, I began thinking there was a market for a decent book on advertising. Most books (at least at the time) were pretty bad. All you had to do was look at the examples of “good advertising” these books contained and you could tell the authors weren’t practitioners of the craft, at least the craft I practice. So I just started writing. I didn’t have a publisher, nor any hope that such a book would be welcome on the shelves of bookstores. But that was beside the point; I had to write this book mostly get it out of my system. After I had finished, I showed the first manuscript around to about 40 people I admired, just folks in the business: creatives, account folks, directors. Every one of them was kind enough to read the entire thing and give criticism. I am still in debt to those people. After that, it was just a matter of getting it into the hands of the right publisher. Not knowing the first thing about the process, I just wandered over to the Barnes & Noble in downtown Minneapolis and bought some books on book proposals for publishers and other how-to manuals. I followed what they said to do and that was pretty much it. It’s been a fun thing. It’s made money. Not Stephen King money, but first-time authors rarely make any serious dough. It’s more of a love and pride thing.

J: There’s a lot of people and books out there that will tell you how to get a job in an agency. But once in, it’s sink or swim. Do you have any key survival pointers for kids just starting in Adland?

L: It helps to have a friend higher up, somebody who can keep an eye on you. Maybe it’s someone in the creative dept who isn’t the CD, but a senior person you can turn to for advice. Maybe it’s someone you met when you were interviewing there. Look for ‘em. Don’t be shy about it either. After hours, lean into someone’s office and just go for it. You’ll find them. Only if you look; they generally won’t walk up to you and introduce themselves. Creatives are often shy; always busy. Go find them.

If it can’t be a senior creative, buddy up with the friendliest juniors you can find. You’re always gonna find a few friendly souls who are the welcoming type. Hang out with them. Ask their opinions. What should I do? Where can I go to get help with such-and-such? The jungle drums are always beating.

J: We read on your blog (http://www NULL.heywhipple NULL.com/) something about marrying the techno-geek code-guy with the wordsmith/art director in terms of making yourself a valuable creative. What advice would you give both for discovering the beauty of the other?

L: The only way to do this stuff is to do this stuff. Sounds silly, I know. But that is my experience and it’s what I am seeing the successful agencies doing. They just start; they dive in; they figure shit out as they go. You, too, will figure shit out as you go, but first you have to dive in. After you start, you will begin to realize what you bring to the party (and what you don’t) and if you enter with a willingness to learn and to just shut the hell up and listen, you will meet in the middle regardless of which side you started.

J: These days, wannabe ad kids are springing up all over the world, mostly in geographically ‘unfortunate’ places (as far as the industry is concerned) How should these kids without access to interesting start-ups and creative powerhouses with a billion internship places approach the advertising world?

Back when I wrote Hey Whipple, I did some research through AAAA about how many agencies there were in America; just to see for myself. Turns out that even in 1998 there were over 13,000 agencies. Dudes, that¹s a lot of places to find work; a lot of places to get your foot in the door. And now, with the explosion of digital, there gotta be tens of thousands more places.

Fact is, you do NOT need your first job in the agency business to be at some creative powerhouse. What you need to do is get a job. First and foremost, get a job. That is the important thing. Yes, you should try to get one in a place of your choosing, but that’s not always gonna happen. There are only so many A+ agencies out there. But you can do great work in any number of places. There are agencies out there that may have a couple of big clients that make them do bad work, but if you take a look you’ll see they’re doing great work on other pieces of business. It’s just not black and white. So my advice is a.) yes, go for your fave agencies but b.) don¹t despair if you can¹t get a job there. There are plenty of great places to get a job. Get a job where you can and start working on adding good work to your book.

J: A lot of the advertising we see seems to feel the same – you know, a variation of an idea or style that won at Cannes the year before. What would you say to young juniors falling into the trap of monkey-see monkey-do?

Well, what I learned in grade school art was this. “No tracing, Luke. Did you TRACE this?” Umm, yeah.

I guess that advice still applies. I want to see what you think. The thing is, given the speed at which award shows are able to print and bind their award annuals…..when you are reading a new annual, you’re looking at work that’s about a year-and-a-half to two years old. These things get printed in China, okay? And to reach your hands, it had to come on a slow boat from China. Literally. So…I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna be modeling my ideas on stuff that came on a slow boat from China. I had a long talk with Mike Hughes about award shows once. He was actually considering not letting his creative department submit anything to any show for a year. Just to see what they would do if the orbital pull of the shows were entirely removed from the creative process. While the idea is not popular with creative people I mention it to, I still think, wow, pretty interesting way to go.

J: If you could give the one, final set of instructions on how to write clear and engaging copy, what would you say?

L: Sorry, but this is kind of a silly question. There is no one final set of intructions. Read William Zinser’s On Writing Well. Read the books of good writers. Read all the time. Write all the time. Read the awards annuals. Read everything. Adweek, Archive, watch the reels, read library books, read the sports section, the business section. Read history, read comedy. Soak up the culture around you. Don’t stay in your advertising ivory tower. Get out there. Learn and learn and learn some more. It is a process that will never end. There is no shortcut.

J: How do we find ‘the truth’ in a brief or problem? What does it feel like when you find it? How do you know if it’s really ‘a truth’ or not? Tell us everything about it. We feel like this might be the secret to everything.

L: Often times I see agencies working to briefs where the strategy looks more like a company mission statement. ‘We believe fresh foods mean better health.’ A strategy, however, at least by my way of thinking is a clever plan. Look it up in the dictionary. Well, lemme do it.

1 a: an artifice or trick in war for deceiving and outwitting the enemy
b: a cleverly contrived trick or scheme for gaining an end.

By this definition, the Trojan Horse was a strategy. It was clever; it was unexpected. Too often though strategies today seem to be little more than ‘themes’ or mission statements. Better, I think are strategies that are built on top of, and powered by, cultural tensions. Depending on the client you are working with, this isn’t always possible. But when a strategy can be built on top of a cultural tension, great work is built into the strategy and fairly bursts out of it, like volcanoes along tectonic plates. Unfortunately, I am not an expert in strategy. All I know is that ‘Fresh foods mean better health’ is a theme; not a clever strategy and not built on a cultural tension.

Also posted in WRITING | Tags: HEY WHIPPLE SQUEEZE THIS, LUKE SULLIVAN

Apr 21, 10

The Interview Series // 31

Meet David Klein. He’s the Associate Creative Director in charge of BMF (http://www NULL.bmf NULL.com NULL.au/)’s new Melbourne office. It’s easy to see why BMF (one of Australia’s better ad agencies) put this hokey-faced bro in charge. You’ve probably seen his work for Nestle Drumstick (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=PqyiFtLnKkc) or that shining beacon of football advertising, Toyota AFL ‘Footy Moments’ (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=zqjDS9ksbRk). It’s all gold! And you know why? Cause Dave just gets it. He knows his shit. We’ve done our fair share of these interviews with advertising bros and this one takes the cake. It’s all here: How to get a job, coming up with good ideas, what to do with award annuals, how the fuck to figure this whole game out. If advertising is something you’re thinking about, then don’t just read the highlighted bits like you normally do. Read it all slacker, sheeeeeesh.

Junior: Ok Dave, give us the low-down. What do you think the main challenges are facing juniors today…

David Klein: It’s probably exactly the same as when I started. To know what to do? Who to listen to? How to get into a good agency? How to crack the brief? All that sort of stuff. One of the tricky things is to work out who you want to listen to. You have to work out who you want to take advice from because if you take everyone’s advice – you’ll go mad.

And always thinking, I have to be in a good agency to do good work. You can do good work anywhere. It sometimes is easier in a good agency but then there are other challenges. Like the fact there’s probably a whole lot of really talented people competing with you to crack the brief. At the end of the day if you’re driven to do well, you will.

Jr: So go back to the beginning – Where did you start? Did you have a career strategy when you went out and got your first job?

D: I don’t think I had any idea what a strategy was back then. I did graphic design at Swinburne University, and I had some sort of vague idea advertising could be fun. I managed to get a job just before I left Uni, at a place that did a bit of mainstream advertising, but a lot more direct marketing. It was a pretty good learning, but wasn’t quite what I was into—I wanted to be in a mainstream agency. I didn’t like coupons and reply paid envelopes that much. I worked on my folio day and night and finally cracked a job at Grey Melbourne working on the TAC. It was a great, I really felt like I’d found where I wanted to be, and importantly what I wanted to do.

I spent two years at Grey and then went to London for a couple of years. It was a good learning curve, and very different, it made me realise that Australia is a great place to make ads. There aren’t as many barriers, and things just don’t take as long. Obviously it depends on what agency you’re at, who your clients are and how much money is involved – but generally, in Australia, you can get stuff done cheaply.

Jr: Tell us your thoughts on going overseas – I think we speak from all juniors out there when I say we all want to do it at some point. But what’s the best way to go about it?

D: I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to do it. I know people who have had hardly any experience who have done really well and people who have been really great who haven’t. I think it’s often about your attitude. You have to be really, really hungry. Don’t expect anyone to help you, especially in London. To most Londoners you’re just another Aussie. And don’t be surprised if you’re asked to work for free. It’s pretty weird, if your folio is good enough they’ll ask you to do a placement and then if you can prove that your any good then they’ll pay you.

I reckon going over as a team is an advantage too. It means you’re easier to employ. And you’ve got someone to hang out with when it gets tough. And trust me, it will be tough.

Jr: Speaking of working for free – It seems like non-paid placements in Australian agencies are becoming common. Our parents think we’re crazy, but do you think it’s becoming more of a way in? At the same time, how do we make sure we’re not getting fucked over?

D: I think you need to recognise when you are being taken for a ride, and when you aren’t. If it is somewhere that you really want to work then you should go for it, because just getting in the door is awesome. I think over here we are less inclined to rip people off and it’s more of a test to see if you are any good and that you can fit in the work environment. As much as your folio is key for getting a job, it’s also who you are as a person and if you can work with people around you. The only way you can know is to get in an agency and test that out. If it’s where you want to go, then do it.

Jr: Do you think it’s as hard, or harder now to get a job in the industry than it was when you started?

D: It’s hard to answer that one because I’m not trying to get a job. I think it’s probably different because there are so many options now. When I started you went to a mainstream agency, or direct marketing. Now you can go into digital, sales promotion, mainstream, activation etc. But in that time one thing hasn’t changed – a good idea is still a good idea. If you have good ideas, you will get a job.

Jr: The people coming out of Uni now are the Gen Y whizzes of the internet. Do you think the folios of today should steer away from your traditional print folio?

D: If you’ve got a skill—for example, if you’re the hottest digital guy around, then use that. There’s not one mould to get a job in advertising. If you’ve got a strength, then use that to your advantage. Show those things in your book—it’s what will set you apart from others.

Jr: Because of the ad courses that are around now, Art Directors don’t necessarily come from a straight design background. What advice would you give to up and coming junior art directors that want to build their craft?

D: I was really lucky because I had four years of hard-core design behind me so I can make things look good pretty quickly. You’ve probably heard it before, but be a sponge. Look at everything that you possibly can. But don’t just look at award annuals, that’s the worst thing you can do. Be aware of them, but you shouldn’t look at them for inspiration. All you’re going to do is end up trying to make last years winning ad, and what you want is to make is next years winning ad. Look at design magazines. Go to galleries. Every week find a new designer or illustrator or photographer and make a library. I’ve got about five million bookmarks on Safari. Photographers, animators, directors, production companies, etc. Unlike when I started about four thousand years ago, all we had was annuals. Now you can employ people from all over the world. Recently I did a campaign with a Japanese illustrator who didn’t speak any English—and bizarrely it was easier than using some English speaking people I’ve worked with.

Jr: Was that something you found through one of your bookmarks?

D: Yeah, his name is Dragon76 (http://www NULL.dragon76 NULL.net). I found him in this really random way through a MySpace link, I got in contact with him through that and then discovered his agent was in London. I showed his work to the client and they really loved it. It wasn’t a problem that he wasn’t in Oz. It just goes to show that once you’ve got your reference right and your brief is really clear, you can get anyone to work with you. Our location isn’t a barrier to employ anybody. There can be an issue with time differences because it takes longer, but you can use anyone in the world now, which is amazing.

J: Do you have any recommended reading for us?

D: There’s a book that I reckon everyone should read – Hey Whipple, Squeeze This (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Hey-Whipple-Squeeze-This-Creating/dp/0471293393). I still look at it; it’s such a perfect way of looking at advertising and very motivating. You can be a junior, or a senior, and still take out stuff from Luke Sullivan (http://twitter NULL.com/heywhipple). Just even little tips or tricks on things—for example, the client always wanting the logo bigger, his tip is to make it smaller, so then when they ask it to be bigger, it’s the size you wanted it in the first place. It’s really helpful. The other guy is Lee Clow; some of his stuff is pretty awesome on his Twitter. The guy is a genius.

Jr: Yes! ‘Lee Clow’s Beard (http://)’! Amazing! There’s some pretty inspirational stuff in there.

D: Yeah! – Look, the key thing is, never give up. If a client gives you feedback and the idea you thought was going to give you a Cannes gold is dead, don’t throw shit around the room. Look at what is wrong with the idea, or if it’s something to do with the execution. Because if it’s the execution you might just change one thing and bingo you’re back in the game. Or maybe the timing’s not right. Maybe they need to set up the campaign idea before they can unleash your great idea. If that’s the case present it later in the year. But if it’s a bad idea, then just walk away from it. Clients know the business pretty well, that’s why they’re there. Sometimes they can make silly mistakes, and it’s not from them being stupid, it’s just not knowing about how to feed back information. They haven’t done advertising degrees. They say it how they see it, sometimes they’re wrong and unfortunately for us sometimes they’re right.

Jr: It seems that getting in to the industry is one challenge, however staying in, is another. And, getting work made and getting work up is another challenge.

D: It’s a daunting thing. Once you get in, you’ve got in, and you should congratulate yourself because a lot of people don’t and it’s really hard—you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. Once you’re in, then there’s no reason why the next brief you get can’t be the one that makes you famous.

Potentially anything can win you an award but awards are a lottery. If you aren’t going to win an award then do a great job for the client’s business. Because if you do that then you get trust from the client, and the creative director, and account service, and soon things will kind of just go your way. And it’s not through doing anything different but by creating confidence in what you do and everyone else will respond to that. If you try to be bolshie and different just for the sake of it, it’s not cool. You want to be different in the work you present, but not argumentative and difficult. After a while people will get sick of you and you’ll be out of a job, or won’t get to work on the good briefs.

Learning to sell your work is really important too. The faster you do that the quicker you’re going to get ahead. Always see your work from the point of view of an idea. Work out what your idea is, put it on a piece of paper, and put your work on a wall underneath it. I always put work on a wall, four or five different ideas, and write executions from those. Don’t be afraid to have other people comment on these. You can be sitting there thinking of one idea and get stuck on how to get something to work, and someone might come along say something and open a whole new world that makes it even better. Draw on the people around you; it doesn’t have to be creative people, even the account guy or a planner. Planners are really important people. Become good friends with a planner and he or she will write the briefs you want to work on.

Jr: While we’re talking on ideas, what piece of advice would you give us as juniors to help make our work better?

You need to really learn to work out what the idea is and what the execution is, because it’s easy to get confused between the two. I’ve seen people fight for executional stuff and suddenly the client cracks the shits and throws out the whole idea. When all that needed to happen was a slight change to the execution and the idea would still be on the table.

Jr: Do you think selling in an execution-based idea is harder? How do you sell in those ideas like the Drumstick Summer Classic ad—do you just read the script or do you have to go to an extra length to sell it in?

D: Reference is key to everything in this business. For Drumstick I studied North Korean mass games and film references from Busby Berkeley. Thinking back it’s a pretty strange combination of stuff when you’re selling ice cream. But it really helped shape the vision for the way the ad should look. I guess a script is just words on a page. Not everyone can imagine it, because they’re not always as visual as you are. If you can show people what’s inside your head it’ll be a lot easier for them and for you.

Jr: You’ve just been made Associate Creative Director of BMF. Do you reckon it’s harder to do that as an Art Director?

D: No way. If you think in ideas it doesn’t matter if you’re an art director or a writer.

Jr: How did it all work out for you—has it all happened pretty organically?

D: It happened organically; there’s no way you can plot it out. I think luck plays a big role in anyone’s career. I’ve had some lucky breaks and I’ve had some really unlucky breaks too, but at the end of the day I worked my ass off. And I still do.

Jr: Any final words before the iPhone battery dies, and the sound recorder with it?

D: Have as much fun as you can. It’s hard work but we’re lucky to be doing it. Making ads means you get to meet and work with some really, really talented people, which is awesome. Advertising isn’t really a job—it’s a lifestyle. If you see it as a 9-5 job, you’ve got it wrong. If you live and breathe it, you’ll get the most out of it.

Also posted in ADVERTISING | Tags: ADVERTISING, BMF, DAVID KLEIN

Apr 07, 10

The Interview Series // 30

Scott Thomas, also known as Simple Scott (http://simplescott NULL.com/), was the Design Director who helped to get Barack Obama elected as American president in 2008. Scott is not your typical designer, that much is true, although the typical designer should certainly be more like Scott. He’s an incredibly articulate and clear thinker heavily influenced by architecture, modernism and the human experience. All of which make his work completely utilitarian in the best way possible; people seem to interact with the websites he creates and the communications he’s published in an astonishingly involved way. But aside from all that intellectual hoo-hah, Scott is a totally gracious bro from Chicago who knows his shit more than most. How to live life better, how to find meaning in your work, what to do when things aren’t working, how to have friends and still have a fulfilling career… At least all the stuff we were dying to know, cause, you know, if it’s good enough for Barry Obammy, it’s good enough for you.

Junior: Scott, something’s been bugging me about this ‘successful career’ thing for a little while now… How do you have friends and still find time to indulge in the deep-thinking and hard-work a ‘successful career’ requires? Especially when you’re young.

Scott Thomas: I think it’s important to understand time. Everyone is in a rush. Many people don’t spend time enjoying things and living in the present moment. With work, when there are those times that you can’t take it any longer, you have to step away from it. Go do something fun, go hang out with your friends.

However, I also feel in those same instances where it’s important to walk away from your work, it’s important to walk away from everything else for a while and just work. That’s where true concentration comes from. Concentration is hard nowadays; it’s becoming more and more difficult. iPhones are constantly buzzing, emails always coming through, YouTube clips to check out, Facebook messages popping up all over the place–you don’t really want all that distraction. In order to be truly successful and do something well you have to shut off the outside world for a while.

Jr: But how do you do that if your friends are persuasive people?

S: They’re persuasive, but you don’t let them persuade you.

Jr: So can I tell them to fuck off?

S: No, you shut them off. You close everything. You turn off your phone. You go out on the weekend and tell them, “Guys, I’m not going to see you for a week because I have to get stuff done. I’m not going to be accessible by phone and email and I won’t really respond much so… c’est la vie.”

Ideally, go someplace that doesn’t have internet. Then you can spend more time concentrating and working. It’s an ebb and flow. I’ve never really lived in NYC but I can imagine living here would be hard–I’m only here for a week or so once every couple of months and I don’t stop when I’m here, I’m constantly moving. I can see how NYC could be a distraction. But your network can grow vastly very quickly, especially if you can do something well.

Jr: New York is a great place to come when you are young and be social. But it’s not such a great place when you want to sit down and focus and do some work, especially work that is going to get you somewhere other than work that is just going to pay the bills.

S: Right. I think that’s the balancing act. For me I’ve always seen creatives struggle with it–”I’m going to go to New York to become famous!” No, you’re not, you’re going to go there and struggle paying for an apartment and struggle with your career. If you’re doing things well and you come here, and you already have some things established, then I think it’s the place to be. It’s just like everything else.

Personally I have a season where I don’t do anything. I hibernate in the winter. I keep in very mild contact with my friends, but it’s good for me. I need to be secluded when I work.

Jr: Have you always been like that?

S: Yeah, I studied architecture in college. Luckily the architecture studio is a quiet place. Typically I wouldn’t work there during the day, but I’d go there at night from about 7pm-3am. I’d spend hours working at night, and that was so helpful because I had no distraction, and no outside influence. If I have people around me I want to hear what they have to say.

Jr: Ah yes! I suppose that’s the difference between an office job and working freelance for yourself. At an office you have to deal with all the people around you and the politics that go with it. But when you’re freelancing, you get up in the morning, sit at your desk, and it’s just you. You have the decision whether you do work or not. There are no excuses.

S: I think that’s one thing that it definitely does–it allows you to form your own mind. I think the disease of a corporate environment is that you get stuck doing whatever they demand you to do. You’re a task man. You’re a yes man. You’re stuck in a world of checking things off the list your superiors are telling you to do, rather than following your passion, your desire, and asking the questions you wanted to ask.

Jr: Then again, you need mentors, and motivation, and a firm kick in the ass if you don’t have a sense of urgency in what you do.

S: I think the trick is to have close friends that you work with that will give you that kick in the ass, that will push you, inspire you, and drive you. Doing something completely alone–there is no real way to get a good product in the end. In order to grow you need constant influence at a young age. Constantly adding fuel to the fire.

Jr: So how did it happen for you? On the way here you were saying you studied architecture then dropped out?

S: I didn’t drop out so much, I kind of switched. I transferred and went to Iowa State and found that graphic design interested me. I didn’t know why, but I felt that architecture was too engineering based, too structural and not artistic enough. I wondered if I needed the freedom that graphic design was going to offer me. It was a difficult challenge for me early on, and I found that I actually needed a math problem and some structure. That’s why the web made so much sense to me. I started building websites pretty early on, in 1998.

Jr: Is that what you do now? Mostly web stuff?

S: I’m very web focused. I did the Vote for Change website. I created the architecture concept and worked with the developers to do it.

Jr: So you never did print?

S: Of course I did. The thing that got me jobs was that I could open up Photoshop and I knew branding–I’m a very multi-faceted designer.

Jr: Although it’s probably one of the most hirable skills at the moment–having web knowledge.

S: It is, but even more so if you’re also a real designer. Not only can I make your website work, but I can make it look good.

Jr: Where did you go after you finished college?

S: I was really unsatisfied just doing graphic design and I didn’t really enjoy it. I wanted to explore, so I went to London for almost a year. I didn’t really have plans when I went, I ended up working in music distribution.

Jr: Putting shit in envelopes and sending it to people?

S: No, I designed CD covers, cases and packaging. Brand stuff. It was a good chance to allow me to explore. But I wouldn’t claim any of that work to be good stuff in my eyes. I was an intern so I was getting paid, you know, crap. I also worked at a pub. It was an experience that kind of altered my perspective on things. It was the first time I was in a different culture, and I realised that there was a big world out there. After that, I went back to Iowa where my family is from.

Jr: Did you have anything to show for it?

S: Not really, I mean, I had a new haircut and wore fancy clothes. I was on a completely different planet when I got back. The people in Iowa knew that. My mind was completely on another planet. I was only there for six months or so. It was hard. It was a culture shock. I had serious anxiety from not wanting to be there, you know, I went back to fucking Iowa. The coolest thing there is cornfields and hay-bales. I tried to work on small bullshit projects freelancing to save up some money so I could get out as soon as possible. The best thing about it was after that, I was never the same person. I become instantly clear as did my understanding of everything.

Jr: What changes?

S: I think it’s the reality that you can go anywhere and do whatever you want to do. You can say, “I can do it, this is my future, I’m going to do it,” and not blink.

Jr: Yes. That stage where you realise you’re in complete control of the rest of your life.

S: This brings up an interesting subject of lucid dreaming and many people’s fascination with being able to control their dreams. Why would you want to control your dreams when you have complete control of your life?

Jr: Many people think they aren’t in control of their lives; that life is continually swirling in a vortex of other peoples shit. But they completely are in control–it’s just a matter of perspective.

S: Totally. You get stuck by the system. You’ve got all these forces telling you that you have to do this and you have to get a job and you have to work in a cubicle and this is life. “This is life son, welcome.”

Jr: Were your parents like that?

S: No, I was lucky. They supported me. I think that they realised early on that I had my mind made up. I told them I was going to move to Oregon and go to school, and they looked at me like I was crazy.

Jr: Why was it crazy?

S: Because it was so far away from them.

Jr: They didn’t have to financially support you at all?

S: I think that was the problem, I was paying for a bit of it and was realising how much it was costing me.

Jr: Most parents these days seem to be happier with whatever you do as long as they don’t have to pay for it. Which can be harder in some ways because you need that.

S: That support?

Jr: Yeah.

S: Especially when you are beginning to realise the necessity of money. Try as hard as you want to fight it, at the end of the day, you need it.

Jr: A lot of money when you’re a kid turns out to be nothing when you’re older.

S: I try not to think about money as much as possible.

Jr: London is more expensive than anywhere though. How did you cope there?

S: Again, you don’t think about money.

Jr: What about when you get into debt?

S: Think about how you are going to pay it off.

Jr: So what did you do when you moved from Iowa?

S: I moved to Chicago. I met some friends who invited me to come live with them, so I did. It was right downtown and I loved it instantly. My roommates were great, they were creative, and it was nice to be around people who were constantly doing stuff. I worked for quite a few years in user-determined design at IA Collaborative (http://www NULL.iacollaborative NULL.com/), analyzing all sorts of things. Everything was very focused on user experience, mostly products. Not online.

Jr: Solving human problems, rather than wondering where to stick the logo?

S: Yes, absolutely. It wasn’t focused on stylizing. For me it was very focused on the sort of stuff that you look at and think, “Wow, that’s so simple, why didn’t I think of that?” Analyzing those things and how they work. Trying to innovate new solutions. It made me dive deep, it was very immersive, an all encompassing job.

Jr: That’s the sort of education people need for solving problems.

S: Oh absolutely, it taught me so much–I learned a lot about how to approach user experience design. Now that I consider myself a user experience designer, a lot of people say, “What the hell does that mean? What do you design?” I want to design the entire experience and not limit myself to one chunk, one part of it. I don’t want to just design the logo, I want to design the bottle, the product, the packaging, the experience of when you open that door at the convenience store–I want to control all those senses. I think that’s my architectural mind coming out as well as branding, communication, design–everything.

Jr: Maybe that’s more design thinking than architecture?

S: Not necessarily. I think great architects want to have the ability to design everything in their space. Everything makes a huge impact. I personally believe that architects want to control the entire experience.

Jr: Is architecture the next step for you then?

S: Yes, absolutely. For me it’s a personal thing, it’s where my mind is most of the time. When I go away I draw more buildings in spaces than anything else. I take notes on places; how the height of a stair affected me. I think that way. It’s natural. That’s why the internet and what is happening technologically is another area I’m successful in and I think that my brain works well in.

In the same way that an architect connects spaces with one another, a web/interaction designer is connecting how our interactions connect with one another. As a web designer you’re not designing a poster. In fact, I’m not sure I could even design a poster anymore, I just don’t have that mind. A web designer is constantly creating a connections within a page, then from one page to the next. It’s far more of an experience and a way-finding device than anything else, so you have to be good at directing people to where they want to go.

Jr: What do you think is the biggest failing of most online user experiences that you see? What are some good ideas for kids when they get an digital brief and they want to make it better?

S: I think the biggest problem is being stuck in the creative conceptual realm. The web is not a place to explore conceptual artwork. It’s just not. Personality is not necessarily something you want to inject into a website. They’re utilitarian. They are there to supply you with the ability to find information, gather information, and then leave. There are obviously some sites where you can be more conceptual but the truly powerful sites in our web world today are utilitarian, like twitter and Facebook and YouTube.

The reason they are popular is that people can use them. They can use them very effectively as a means to an end. I’m gathering all my friends here and I can upload a video and share it with all my friends, or I can find any book in the world. That’s what the web is today.

I also think it’s important to stay away from projects that are just bad ideas. Sometimes I struggle with that when someone wants to pay you, but when you start knocking it out you see the site is never going to go anywhere because it’s a bad idea. That’s always hard. I bet the same occurs in architecture.

Jr: Probably. Maybe the same occurs in everything.

S: I’m not sure why I think architecture is the next general step for me, I think it’s also due to the fact that after the Obama campaign it’s really hard to take on a project that has that level of significance and importance. I’m really not sure if I want to take on that level of importance again or do something that big again.

Jr: What was the importance? That it changed the direction of the United States?

S: That and the design of the campaign. I don’t think that design has ever been done like that in politics. We focused more on trying to do things right, and quickly, and make things look good, and look right. Rather than just making things.

Jr: What was the difference on the Obama campaign? Why was that so different?

S: Because of the way the organisation was structured. We didn’t have a top-down organisation, we had a bottom-down organisation. Lets take choices of typography for example. If we started to use Gotham, it wasn’t like we had to go and speak to our bosses who had to then ask Barack. Obviously Barack Obama has no thoughts on typography. I go home and have wet dreams on typography so clearly they are going to trust me on that decision; they’re too busy to think about it anyway. So if I was to write a report on why I wanted to switch from Gill Sans to Gotham, it probably would never have gotten read and it also would have been a waste of time.

Jr: Is that what usually happens?

S: I feel like in most corporations you have to justify all of your reasons and ask the person above you so you don’t get fired. There’s all those systems in place. I hate the word ‘systems’, because it also means boxes, and coffins.

Jr: So basically they just trusted you to do the right thing, and it was pure luck that you were incredibly good, otherwise it might not have been such a success.

S: Ha, yes, I guess you’re right. Although I’m sure they wouldn’t call it luck. You know, I think it’s important to understand what the power of design is. The power of design is not saying a single thing but communicating a whole lot. If you’re a writer the best sentence you could write is probably the one with the fewest words possible. If it communicates everything you want to say in the smallest number of words possible that’s what you’re reaching for.

Jr: Simple is better.

S: I call myself Simple Scott, so of course I agree with that.

Jr: How simple can we get? How do you choose between using a typeface? Something as simple as that?

S: We can’t go into something that specific straight away. We need to talk about what simplicity is. The important thing to understand about simplicity is you need to dive deep into the complexity of the situation.

It takes one person to think about all the complexities in order for true simplicity to be derived. That seems crazy right? You have to dive to the edge of oblivion before you know what’s going on. I think that’s true. I think that you have to do the largest amount of analysis before you can make the most simple and elegant solution.

Jr: So you’re saying before you worked on the Obama campaign you knew everything about him and his policies and everything he was trying to achieve.

S: During. It was a constant process of learning. You’re not going to be able to know everything about everything. But you need to know a little bit about what the problem is. Like the voting process. The notion is that voting registration in the USA is a complex process. You need to think about what the problems you’re trying to solve are. Then once you know and understand that, you try to make the most elegant solution, then walk people through the process.

Simplicity is a difficult thing to wrap ones mind around. The only things that are simple are the things that are truly empty (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=PG4uRmTJUU8), that are truly void. The second you start adding a second variable it becomes complex. The design of a spoon is really complex when you boil it down. Something as simple as a spoon requires a lot of knowledge and understanding about human needs and the way we do things.

I think the beauty of simplicity, the reason I call myself Simple Scott, the reason I chose to make that my life’s work, is because I think it’s something that I can be constantly challenged by for the rest of my life. I can spend the rest of my life making things simpler and never get bored. I think everyone should find something like that. You think about some of the greatest minds in existence, like Albert Einstein, who was trying to take two theories and bring them into one basic idea, one unified theory. He never really reached it, but I don’t think he was ever really bored.

Jr: That’s right. Being constantly challenged. Which is a problem for many people who get a job somewhere and end up working 9-5 for ten years and not being that happy.

S: It happens all the time. People getting bored as hell or living out somebody else’s dream.

Jr: For many young people, especially those reading this interview, thirty seems like the roof in career terms. From your experience, can you offer any advice on how you put yourself in the perfect position so you can continue to grow and challenge yourself?

S: I have two plants in my house. One is a spider plant, and the other is something I can’t remember the name of. The interesting thing about the second plant is I bought it the week that I started at the campaign. It was a real little guy with four leaves. I bought it because I wanted to watch it grow. I knew that by working on the campaign, I was going to grow too–the plant was a representation of my personal growth. A plant doesn’t grow in a set path. It grows based on where the sun is, how much rain it gets, how much water it receives, how much attention it is having. All these elements play into the plant’s growth. It applies the same to us. If you take this as an analogy for the question, you don’t know which way your leaves are going to grow until they grow that way. It’s important to respect that, appreciate that, and to not look too far ahead into things.

Often times we want to have the answer to where we’re bound to go, but the truth is, we’re just here. If you spend your entire life living in the future you’re never going to enjoy the present and you’re never going to enjoy now. Then when all of a sudden you don’t have anything in the future to look towards, you don’t know how to appreciate the present. You become a sad old man. So I would suggest that everyone lives like a plant.

Jr: Sometimes things just happen, much like when you switched from architecture to design–you just know it’s the right thing to do at the time. And now with architecture, you’re about to begin on that journey, but who knows what strange and interesting places it will take you.

S: I might go back and teach for the rest of my life.

Jr: That could be the calling. I guess you need to leave it open for that.

S: Everyone needs that understanding and appreciation. I have a hard time with the notion of committing to anything at the present moment, and I think it’s because I’m really enjoying now. In the past I spent so much time living in the future that I started to forget why I was excited about life.

Jr: Well it sounds like you’re in a pretty great spot existentially now anyway. But how do you get there? How did you get there?

S: Time. Flow. I just got back from Japan. I was in Japan for two months. One of the things that I learned and really appreciated, and I learned a lot there, was this notion of master. Sensei. The notion of apprentice vs master. The difference between doing things as young people and old people. Sometimes we lose sight of that. We don’t want to listen to our elders or someone who has been in it for a while. Obviously it’s a double-edged sword, but our masters here are jaded by the fact that no one will listen to them. In Japan though, they are respected, welcomed and embraced. They’re able to flourish with it as well. I like that dichotomy there, the notion that the master is getting something from the youth that he teaches and the people that he teaches are getting the lessons of a lifetime. It’s a very structural society. They deal in hierarchy all the time. At a meeting everyone puts their business cards on a table and they’re ordered by who is more superior. It’s very structured.

Jr: So would you say structure is a good thing?

S: I don’t think Japanese people would consider it a good thing. I just think it’s interesting. I don’t think it happens here in the States. I think there’s a constant wanting to trump and to be better than.

Jr: It’s a good reason to get out, see different cultures and do different things, because for others something else works.

S: Yeah totally. I’ve never been in a society that was that much of a utopia. You could set your laptop on the table and walk away, and it would still be there. There’s no crime. There’s such a regard for the other person that that just doesn’t happen. Even in a place that is so dense. We’re talking about half of the people in the USA condensed into the size of California. But because Japan is so mountainous they only use 20% of their country. The rest is basically uninhabitable. Isn’t that crazy?

Jr: It certainly is. And you went there on sabbatical, which is another interesting topic. Your mentors told to go or your head might explode.

S: Yeah, people were telling me my head might pop off. Obviously after you do something really large like the Obama campaign, you know, take on a really big project and you accomplish it, after you cross that thing off the list, which for me a was an item that said, ‘win this fucking thing’, once that was checked I had no idea what to do next. I knew I didn’t want to go to Washington DC. I was offered a job at the Whitehouse, but I knew I wasn’t the right guy, though I would love to help the democracy further. I don’t think that it was the right time for me to help my country in that way.

Jr: Who came up with the idea for Japan?

S: I did, it was always a place I had wanted to explore. I wanted to go someplace where I wouldn’t be able to read anything, I wouldn’t see any typography that I understood, I wouldn’t be able to read any adverts. Everything ended up looking cute and kind of silly because I couldn’t read it, and that’s what I wanted. I wanted an escape from all of that, and I found it there. I found a great peace in Japan, even in a city as busy as Tokyo, which is very peaceful in areas, and there’s a great connection to nature even within the city. And there was stuff everywhere! All these interactions make up your experience, having more experiences increases the amount of knowledge that you have and possess, and the more you can potentially experience, the more that you can potentially know. I think it’s true for anybody.

If you have any passion to know yourself better than you knew it before, go someplace that is completely and utterly foreign to you. Go with no one else, go by yourself, go with no plans, and no conceptions about what it is going to be.

If you want a more in-depth look into how Scott engineered the Obama campaign, watch this speech he gave (http://vimeo NULL.com/9145266) at the Illinois Institute of Technology, Chicago.

Also posted in DESIGN | Tags: DESIGN, INSPIRATION, NEW YORK, OVERSEAS, SUCCESS, THE INTERVIEW SERIES

Jan 20, 10

The Interview Series // 28

Alright, alright. We know what you’re thinking, “Another ad-guy? When you kids gonna get over this ad-schmer-tising thing, huh?” Well you’re right. Evan Fry (http://evanfry NULL.com) is an ad-guy. But he ain’t just any ad-guy–he’s a true-blue award-winning ex-Creative Director of Crispin Porter & Bogusky (http://cpbgroup NULL.com/) style ad-guy, and he has some good shit to say, so chill out, bro. That sort of heritage makes him better than most ad-guys, who on the whole are a dime-a-dozen, and definitely don’t look this good with a head wrapped in ostrich feathers. He just left CP+B to start up the world’s first ad agency utilising the power of crowd-sourcing, named Victors & Spoils (http://victorsandspoils NULL.com/). That’s pretty cool-magool if you ask us. You know what else makes Evan cooler than most? He’s an old-school copywriter. Which tends to be rare these days. So if you’re one of the few who want to take up the lost art of copywriting, listen to what Evan has to say. You can actually use his advice–which is darn considerate of him, seeing as most of these so-called ‘ad-guys’ have a lot to say about nothing. In summation: Evan Fry ain’t just your average ad-guy, he’s a super-talented old-school copywriting mega-machine, and wants you to Be Fucking Awesome (http://befuckingawesome NULL.com/).

Junior: We heard somewhere that you’ve got a crazy story about getting a job at Crispin Porter + Bogusky (http://cpbgroup NULL.com/). Apparently it’s a ‘doozy’. May as well tell us the whole thing!

Evan Fry: Sure. But it’s a long one. It basically began with me having been fired from the job I had and sending my book to Crispin. At that point, this was the spring of 2002, I had been a writer/ACD for 8 years already, and I wanted to work for CP+B more than anywhere else–so I sent my book. About a month after I sent it in they returned it to me with a form letter, “signed” by Alex Bogusky (http://alexbogusky NULL.posterous NULL.com/) himself. It was encouraging, but standard. Very professional of them to be that on top of their shit, I thought. And then I forgot about it. About two months later, after becoming a bit bored of not getting much play from the shops I truly wanted to work for, I had an idea: what if I acted as though that letter really was a sincere letter from Alex to me, and started sending him weird notes from the stance of ‘jilted-lover-gone-psycho-at-not-getting-any-more-letters-from-Alex’?

So I got some really precious stationery like a grandma might use, a super nice calligraphy pen, and went to it. My thought was keep them short, keep them anonymous, and keep them weird. And not think for a minute that Alex himself would ever even get them. I think the first one said, in really weird cursive, “It’s been two months since you last wrote me, Alex. Don’t you love me anymore, Alex?” Nothing else. A few days later I sent another one. And then another, after a few more days. For the fourth one, I reduced a photocopy of the original form letter he’d sent me, but used black permanent marker and inked out my name on it. I accompanied it with a psycho note on the psycho stationery that this time said, “Perhaps by now, Alex, you’re wondering who the hell I am? Well maybe I’m a lot like you, Alex.”

Four days later as I was thinking about how to take it up a notch, I got a FedEx delivery. It was from Miami. When I opened it, it was clear something was weird. There was another envelope inside. And then inside that envelope was a Ziploc bag. It had the vibe of an evidence bag like in lawyer movies. I opened the Ziploc and there was a Photostat-camera blowup of the part of the form letter I’d sent where I’d inked out my name. But by blowing it up 10 times, its size had revealed the name under the ink. ‘Evan’, just huge. Stapled to it was a copy of my letter, and in red ink someone had circled “… who the hell I am.” And that was it. It was all just one big fucking “touché, motherfucker. We got you.”

I was psyched beyond belief. Because all of a sudden I had concrete proof that not only had my letters been getting to him, but they’d been actually getting to him, you know? And he took some time and effort to play the game. So I immediately loved Alex. And the day after I got the envelope, Veronica Padilla, his assistant at the time, called for my book again. I thought I had a job in the bag, or at least a flight out. But it didn’t work like that. I didn’t hear anything for weeks.

By then I’d started a whole other self promotion idea where I was mailing a weekly photo of myself to the top 30 or 40 creative directors around the world who I wanted to work with. Each one was literally just a 4×6 photo – showing how much time I had on my hands. Like, in one I was having a tea party with stuffed animals. In another I was drinking tallboys with bums on the street. On the back of each, every week, I wrote in pen something that went with it, like, “God I need some work,” and I’d include my phone number.

So I had these going on, and was also sending them to Alex. But I still didn’t hear from him. However the photos were working, and I was getting a lot of great freelance so I didn’t care as much, although CP+B was still where I really wanted to be.

About six weeks later Alex himself finally called and said, “I’ve been meaning to call you, why don’t you fly out.” I did, and had a great interview. Thought I had it in the bag for sure, and… didn’t. He didn’t have a slot for me. So I kept the weekly photos going, kept freelancing, and then four months later I was freelancing at Mad Dogs & Englishmen (http://www NULL.maddogsandenglishmen NULL.com/door NULL.html) in San Francisco and got a message on my answering machine. “Hey Evan, it’s Alex, call Veronica back and tell her the code word is pineapple.” I called her back and she said Alex wanted to offer me a job. It was literally one of the best days of my life. P-e-r-s-e-v-e-r-a-n-c-e.

Jr: Wow. Ok. That definitely is a doozy. It’s nice to see someone with experience and good work struggle like the best of us. In fact, your website mentions that at twenty-six you “weren’t exactly setting the advertising world on fire”. How did you push through that? Did you ever want to give it up and go mountain biking for good?

E: Oh man, you got that right. Actually, a few times. I got out of school from the University of Oregon and unlike my partner in school, Glenn Cole, I didn’t take a good job out of school. My book was shit and I spent a year working on it but the only job I could land was at the ‘third biggest place in Portland’ – which basically means nowhere you’ve ever heard of. And even though I only stayed there a year, it seemed my destiny was sort of set. I couldn’t get play in the Weidens (http://www NULL.wk NULL.com/) or the Goodbys (http://www NULL.goodbysilverstein NULL.com/) of the day, so I was just floating around at the mediocre places, like 95% of us.

I moved to San Francisco in 1996 and experienced more of the same. But I moved to be in a bigger market with more chances. I kept at it, kept trying, and just didn’t give up. I guess that’s why I ended that last question by saying perseverance. That’s really the only answer when you feel like you’ve got what it takes, when you know that in your heart. If you know you’re good and you know you’re smart but can’t seem to get a break, you’ve got to prove how smart you are and make your own break. I’m 100% convinced of that.

Jr: You’ve written your entire career. But a lot of young people aren’t taught hardcore writing anymore. From our experience, advertising education tends to be more ideas-focused. What advice would you give to young writers?

E: I think this is true. I went to a School of Journalism program, and was lucky enough to be a decent writer just inherently, I dare say. And then in school at University of Oregon, I was also lucky to have two great ad professors who were classically trained. So the mix was pure writing and grammar, mixed with classic concepting classes, and barebones, fucking copywriting courses. It didn’t hurt to have Dan Weiden (http://danwiedensuperdad NULL.blogspot NULL.com/) himself teaching a couple of intensive seminars. But today, you’re right–ad programs stress concepts first, at best. Copywriters today, I swear to God, most of them shouldn’t call themselves “writers” at all. But it’s not really the game now, nor is it anyone’s fault really.

The advice I would give is to read a lot. And to pick up the book Grammar for Journalists (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Grammar-Journalists-E-L-Callihan/dp/0801968232) and study it like there’s going to be a quiz on it every day. I’d also say to use self-discipline. And read The Book of Gossage (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Book-Gossage-Howard-Luck/dp/0962141534). Teach yourself. If you’re a copywriter who can actually write, you’re set for life. Love the headline, love long copy, do it all the time, get better at it, write hundreds of options for each headline idea. Treat it like a craft. That’s what it is. I still love to write ads.

Jr: Do you get the urge/time to do any writing or other creative stuff outside of advertising?

E: Nope. I really don’t, not writing. I get the urge to do other things besides advertising though. And I do those things. It’s why I started sharklove.com (http://sharklove NULL.com/) and also befuckingawesome.com (http://befuckingawesome NULL.com/). Be Fucking Awesome, especially, is just a labour of love. I kept having this idea where I would write a book that would be a sort of “guide for living.” I had this idea for a title and it was “How to Be Fucking Awesome.” This was while I was really cranking at CP+B, on the road producing all the time. So I didn’t really have the energy to do it, but I bought the URL befuckingawesome.com (http://befuckingawesome NULL.com/) and felt good enough about doing that. Then I just sat on it for a couple years.

Finally I had John Parker, my partner at the time and now a CD at W+K New York, do up a branding identity for BFA. He rocked it. And it sat there again. Then I had the idea to tweak it into a social network of sorts where you could post your Fucking Awesome deeds, let the world vote on each one, and those votes would contribute to your Awesome Quotient. So then I fucking had to do it. And that’s what I did. I found another amazing designer to help with the design, a fantastically talented developer, and sunk a lot of my own money into paying him to develop it. It’s been live now since the end of September. It isn’t really taking off the way I’d hoped, but I am learning a whole lot from it and know what to try to make it take off more. It’s really satisfying, in some ways. But mostly, it’s just a massive learning experience.

Jr: So, now that you’ve left CP+B to start your own agency, what can the world expect from Victors and Spoils (http://victorsandspoils NULL.com/)?

E: Good question. I think the world can expect to see a viable new way of coming up with ideas for the advertising industry. A way where the clients feel like they get the service and attention that traditional agencies give, but ideas and work that is devised from a much broader base of amateurs and/or the users of their products and services–then directed and shaped to be on brand and on brief. So it’ll feel like an ad agency to the client, but engage the world to help solve their business problems. What we’re trying to do is show that there is a new way of doing things. A way that works and can let more people into the process. We’re all savvy critics of ads and marketing communications nowadays – because we’re exposed to it from birth. There are a lot of people out there who could be really good at it, and we want to give them a way of working on things just like those of us who went to school to become experts. There’s a shitload more to it than that, obviously. But the world can expect some really interesting briefs to work on for some really interesting clients. At least.

Jr: The business model you guys described on launch, was anything but ‘more of the same’, but there’s going to be the inevitable detraction from folks not into the whole model. Are crowd-sourcing naysayers the new ‘30-seconds-of-TV-is-the-only-media-we-need’ dinosaurs?

E: I don’t know; that’s a good question. There are naysayers out there. Basically what the internet gives people is a voice, and they love to use it to say how dumb everything is that isn’t their own idea. I learned pretty fast after we launched that I just had to turn it off, it was exhausting trying to answer or consider everyone’s points. Which we still care a lot about, but so many people were just being so aggressively mean and negative, so full of hate, that we realized very fast that no answer would satisfy the vocal minority. It’s one of the most loaded issues out there right now and because we consciously launched with as much hoopla as we could create, we became the brightest bull’s-eye. It’s cool though; we intend to just continue doing our thing and trying to get some good clients and craft briefs that let people play with brands if they want to. If they don’t want to, that’s cool too.

Jr: How does a junior (or anyone for that matter) get a shot at working for a hot shop like CP+B or Victors & Spoils? Can you give us five awesome tips?

E: What if I give you one tip and explain the shit out of it?

Jr: Evan, you do what you feel…

E: Good.

1. Get really good at the craft of being a creative.

- Write down everything. Take notes as you learn. Take notes as you concept.

- Doodle as you think. Keep the pen moving.

- Do lots of options for everything. Only through looking at it can you know if something is better or worse than what you already have. Look at it.

- Take it seriously; don’t expect it to come easy. Focus on the brief. Do “concepting intervals” where you focus and write every idea down. Then have a break. Then get back to it.

- Sketch everything. Go analog. Don’t fucking concept on your fucking laptop. Pad of paper. Pen or pencil. You alone, or you and your partner. Find somewhere to get in sync and focus and riff. When writing headlines, that’s when I think writing on your computer is good. But try using all caps, or two spaces between each headline. Treat it like art, and have some pride for how the words look. Do a bunch. Edit them a little. Do a bunch more. Edit a little. Repeat. If you’re building your book, keep the presentation simple. But don’t ignore the presentation.

Jr: Is there life after advertising? Should advertising be a means to an end?

E: For me, I think there has to be. For anyone, for sure there can be. Depends on how much a boner it gives you, I guess.

Interview by: Pete Majarich (http://petermajarich NULL.com NULL.au/)

Also posted in ADVERTISING | Tags: ADVERTISING, COMMITMENT, COPYWRITING, CP+B, CREATIVITY, FOLIO, JOB HUNTING, SUCCESS, THE INTERVIEW SERIES, WRITING

Jan 13, 10

The Interview Series // 27

Mike Sacks (http://www NULL.mikesacks NULL.com/) is a comedy writer who has done a good thing. After spending years writing words (both funny and serious) for Vanity Fair, Esquire, The New Yorker, McSweeney’s, and Vice, among others, he interviewed twenty-six comedy writing greats and packaged the result into a book–a terrific book of incredible genius, may we add. And Here’s the Kicker (http://www NULL.andheresthekicker NULL.com/) is full of only the best advice interviews can give. Those interviewed include Al Jaffee from Mad Magazine, Todd Hanson from The Onion, George Meyer from The Simpsons, and many others, who, if you would like, are available for you to peruse here (http://www NULL.andheresthekicker NULL.com/). We at Junior thought it might be interesting to see if any of this advice had rubbed off on Mike, which it clearly had, and the resulting interview quickly became a favourite in our office. We don’t even need to mention that the advice is pertinent for any creative industry. Except architecture. There’s nothing here for you*.

Jr: And Here’s the Kicker (http://www NULL.andheresthekicker NULL.com/) was such a great read! Every interview we read became a new favourite. Many of the guys you interviewed must have been your idols growing up. What was the interview process like? Fun? A party? Time consuming?

Mike: Yeah, it was fun, but it was also a lot of work. The finished product might have sounded like a casual conversation between two friends, but a tremendous amount of preparation went into each interview – up to 25 hours per conversation. There was also some pressure from my standpoint to make the interviews really work, because I knew that I often wouldn’t have a second chance with a lot of these writers.

With that said, the whole experience was great, but I’d never want to do it again. It took two years. It’s time to concentrate on something else: my next book will be a humor book. It’s a parody of a sex manual called Our Bodies, Our Junk.

Jr: Ha! Sounds hilarious already. One of our favourite quotes from your current book was from John Hodgman (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=8W51H1croBw) (Editors note: The PC!), who said that comedy writers shouldn’t worry about being funny. They should just concentrate on being the best writer they can be. And that the comedy will come from the truth. Do you have any similar bits of advice that have helped you in your career?

M: I think that’s a great piece of advice, too. When you look at the writers in the book, all of them can write in any genre, not just humor. David Sedaris (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=YBdymtyXt8Y) is a brilliant writer of anything, not just humor. You have to learn the chops of how to write before you even attempt to be funny.

As far as my own advice, I would say the following:

Network and surround yourself with as many talented people as possible. Don’t look at it as being a competition. It’s hard enough to make it alone, and it’ll only help to go through the process with others. More opportunities will open for you.

Write every day. Or try to.

I would be wary of classes. They’re usually taught by academics or by writers who haven’t been too successful themselves. I think you’re going to have to teach yourself in the end, anyway.

Read as much as possible, both the good and the bad. Sometimes it’s more important to know what not to write.

Don’t limit yourself to reading humour. Read non-fiction, on all sorts of topics.

Experience as much as possible.

If you do receive advice from someone, don’t be upset. Then again, it could be bad advice. Show your work to someone whose comedic sensibility you trust.

Jr: Gosh Mike! Such good succinct advice. You’ve almost answered all our questions in one hit! But we’ll keep going, because, well, we can. So what’s the best training in your view for a writer? Is it on the job? Trying to get your scripts up at an ad agency? Pitching to a magazine? Starting your own publication/site?

M: I think it depends on what type of writing you want to do. But no matter the medium, it’s very important to just do it. Write as much as possible, write what you want to write (and not what you think will interest those in Hollywood), and just keep on improving. You have to assume that no one’s going to really help you succeed. It’s up to you: not only to write, but to promote yourself and your work.

Jr: Creative types often seem to have a lot of talents. In our experience they sit on the generalist side of things more often than say, the guy who always knew he wanted to be an accountant. Do you ever get the urge to try your hand at anything else other than funny words on paper? Your IKEA gag in Esquire (http://www NULL.mikesacks NULL.com/wp/ikea-instructions/) for instance, isn’t so much a gag about the written word. A comic maybe? A hint at a directing career perhaps?

M: I wish I could draw and I wish I could direct, but I’m happy just trying to improve myself as a writer. But I do like to think of different type of ideas, such as the IKEA piece. In such a case, I try to work with really talented people who can pull off the visual look of a piece. I think that’s really important: work with the best people you can find. They’ll make you look really good in return.

Jr: What are your thoughts on the web as a creative medium? Web comics for instance seem to be full of some burgeoning, surrealist talent, like The Perry Bible Fellowship (http://pbfcomics NULL.com/?comic=random). Do you think the web will produce new ways of making people laugh beyond putting clips on laptops?

M: Oh, definitely. And I think it’s fantastic that anyone now can produce something creative without leaving their bedroom. In years past, one had to have access to an expensive camera or computer program or recording equipment, etc. Now, if you’re talented, you can easily find the way to create (and also distribute) your work. Which should give you less of an excuse to not work really hard. Anyone can do it now! Not just the sons and daughters of the Hollywood rich.

Jr: A common theme amongst creative types seems to be how hard-working they are. But then we also hear things like, ‘if you don’t have fun writing it, no one will have fun reading it’. How do you resolve the two in your mind?

M: Good question. I can only say that sometimes the process is rewarding, whereas not every moment is really that fun. I don’t think that a writer has to be screaming with laughter in order to produce a work that will be thought of as funny. In fact, it’s just the opposite. It’s similar to producing a piece of jewelery or creating a wood table in your woodworking shop. You know what you have to do and then you do it.

I think what most writers are talking about are the instances of it being tortuous. The reader will usually notice because the piece might be clunky or a little stiff. Some of the best writing usually happens very easily, but that’s not to say that it’s going to be easy every time. Everyone has a difficult time at one point or another, even those who have been in it for sixty years, such as Larry Gelbart (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=5MivXSpxkYY) or Irv Brecher (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=B1NeihzlBHo).

Jr: Larry and Irv are kings! Everyone should take advice from them. But the modern day game has changed! Things seem to be in a flux. We’re in a world where content creation is becoming more and more of a hazardous way to make money. Much of the print media like The New York Times and so many other newspapers and magazines are struggling. For folks whose livelihood depends on a vehicle, say a magazine column to flourish, what is the way forward? Do you think good writing will find new ways to thrive in the cracks or do you envision a world where cheaper and easier content like reality TV is all we have left?

M: I think there’s always going to be a need for quality work. The problem might exist more for the reader. There are just so many options now (millions of internet blogs and sites, hundred of cable channels, etc.) Where will one go? A reader might hit 30 places each day, as opposed to just one or two. I do think that the major newspapers and magazines are in trouble… Unless they drastically change their ways. I never understood why newspapers and magazines gave away content for free. It doesn’t make sense to me. If they want to retain quality writers, they’re going to have to charge for their services. And I don’t think readers will have much of a problem paying a nominal fee for a yearly on-line subscription to The NY Times or The New Yorker or any other great publication.

Jr: How much does geography matter when trying to make it as a writer?

M: I think networking is very important. If you want to write TV for Hollywood, it’s vital to know a lot of Hollywood people. If you want to write late-night TV in New York, you should be in New York. Once you’re established, I think it matters less, especially if you write books and articles and so forth. But if you’re just starting out, I would definitely recommend surrounding yourself with like-minded people. It can only help your career in the future. And it’s more healthy to go through the process and struggle together. Not to mention more fun.

Jr: So many comedy writers are from Ivy League schools (http://en NULL.wikipedia NULL.org/wiki/Category:Harvard_Lampoon_members). Especially out of Harvard Lampoon fame (http://harvardlampoon NULL.com/). Why? Is it all about the connections?

M: I think a lot of Ivy Leaguers are obviously very intelligent, but I do think a lot of it has to do with connections. There almost seems to be a gateway from Harvard to Hollywood. I think it’s more difficult if you happen to come from a non-Ivy school, such as myself. I knew no one who was a writer, and actually, I didn’t know anyone who knew anyone who was a writer. The more connections you have, the easier it’s going to be. But it can be done if you work really hard and have some semblance of talent.

Jr: If you had a son or daughter who wanted to get into writing, what would you say to them?

M: Well, I have a daughter, and I’d love for her to get into writing, but not necessarily as a career. With that said, all careers are difficult in their own ways. And writing is a hell of a lot more fun than most jobs I’ve had, or could have had. I think it’s important to just know what you’re in for, though. Which is why I’m going to force my daughter to read my book, after she pays full purchase price, of course.

Jr: What’s the funniest thing in the world?

M: Anyone or anything who isn’t aware of their funniness, such as a dog, a monkey or a drunk person. The more aware you are of your cleverness or potential to amuse, the less clever and amusing you’re going to be.

Jr: What are you waiting for young comedy writers? Buy the book! (http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/Heres-Kicker-Conversations-Writers-Industry/dp/1582975051/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1225450095&sr=8-4)

Interview by: Pete Majarich (http://petermajarich NULL.com NULL.au/)

*Ha! Joke’s on you architects! It IS relevent. Read and weep.

Also posted in WRITING | Tags: COMEDY, COMEDY WRITING, FUNNY, HARVARD LAMPOON, HILARIOUS, HOLLYWOOD, INTERVIEWS, IVY LEAGUE, NETWORKING, NEW YORK, OVERSEAS, THE INTERVIEW SERIES, WRITING

Dec 16, 09

The Interview Series // 26

jvh

We’ve been on the lookout for the perfect photographer to interview for quite sometime. Someone with a brain full of smart, a large collection of transcendental work and an undeniable connection to the universe. In the global search for such a suitable photographer, we looked to the far reaches of the globe’s creative belt. Upon finding the perfect suitor by the name of Jan von Holleben (http://www NULL.janvonholleben NULL.com/), we sent one of our foreign correspondents to Berlin for a short but knowledgeably dense chat. The resulting interview is exactly the type of chin-wag we requested — filled with advice for creatives of all shapes, but particularly handy for confused but excited young photographer shaped people. If you wanna know the best way to find assisting work, whether to go to university or not, or how to be happy doing this creative thing for the rest of your life, read on and drink up all the good stuff.

Junior: Jan! Hello! Welcome and such. Tell us a everything about how you got into photography. We know you studied in London, but were you working in photography before that?

Jan von Holleben: Well I have to say that before I did my university degree I intended to become a teacher of handicapped children. I always thought I was going to do a very classical teacher training in Germany, to go through university, and then start my job. But whilst I did that, I assisted a photographer in the south of Germany for about two years. He was a still life photographer who basically taught me all I know about light. And in a technical sense, after those years, I already felt well equipped to be a photographer.

Then I started my degree to be a teacher, and I realized very quickly that it’s wasn’t my world. I loved the idea of working with children and playing, and I really loved pedagogical theories, but essentially I really missed photography. I was always a little worried, because I knew it was very tough to be a photographer. Originally I’d wanted to go the secure way, become a teacher and be employed by the state, you know, do all that. But when a friend of mine showed me the prospectus for a university degree in England where she wanted to study, well, I flipped through the pages and suddenly realized they had a really exciting photography course based on the theory and history of photography. What they wrote about that really hit something inside of me. After that I realized that was what I wanted to study.

I went with her to England and we spent a week going from college to college, university to university, showing our portfolios. I had some really amazing encounters there and realized that I had to go to England and study. So that’s when I stopped my teacher training, and head over heels just went very quickly to England, which was really an overnight decision to enroll there. It was already in the middle of the semester, but the tutor there was really excited about my ideas and technique that I used and said, “You can start straight away, you don’t have to do the first semester. You can just go straight into the second semester”.

So I was well taken care of there, and I didn’t have to learn anything about technicalities. Which I didn’t want to learn anyway, because I had already worked with large format, with a studio, with light — I was very much experimenting with that already. So, starting my degree in England was really great in its prospects, and especially knowing that I would only learn theory and history in photography.

Jr: Wow! So when you started university you weren’t doing any practical photography at all?

JVH: I did a bit of practical stuff, but most of the time, either I knew already what they were teaching or it was so basic that it wasn’t interesting for me at all. I had already done portrait lighting, I had already done studio lighting, I’d done landscape, I’d done all those sort of classic things — that’s what they would teach the other students that hadn’t had that. So I could really concentrate on concepts, on writing and on researching; I didn’t have to go through all this ‘how am I going to take a picture’ stuff, which for me was extremely helpful.

Now I think that particular degree is better targeted towards people who already have some kind of technical understanding. Most of the students who go there have obviously done their own little personal projects, or assisted someone here or there, but had never had the chance to go through the entire process of teaching, or apprenticeship, that in many ways I had been through. So because of that I felt very privileged.

So, for me at least, it was really two and a half years of purely thinking photography. Although, I did do a lot of projects, and we had a lot of practical projects also in the curriculum.But for me the most exciting thing was just working on concepts, researching and developing ideas, and just yeah — doing photography that matters. You know, photography that is not so much purely visual, but has an actual opinion. So that’s where that degree was really helpful.

I also had to read a lot. My tutors were quite strict on reading material that we had to go through. It was always funny, my favourite tutor, David Campany, always had these particular reading lists. One was the essential reading list which had three to five books per project that you had to read, and then there was another twenty or so books which were optional.

jvh3

Jr: Yes! Kinda Like recommended reading?

JVH: Yeah, recommended reading, but you were supposed to read all that as well. But you know, at least if you can’t be bothered, read those five essentials — but those twenty ones you should be reading.

Jr: Ha! Yeah, it’s the same at my uni as well. There’s always so much to read! So anyway, I want to know if you can help me out with something. I am constantly involved in this debate with one of my friends because he doesn’t think that university is necessarily the most efficient way to get an education in creativity and learn a craft. He’s of the opinion that it’s better to just get out there, do things, teach yourself along the way, find a mentor, and so on. But! My argument is that it’s imperative that we read and learn and be exposed to the history of our crafts as well. And I think university is the best way to do that; the best way to be exposed to new texts and ideas and ways of thinking. Of course it’s really important to also find a mentor or assist with an experienced photographer or what have you… But university should be the top priority. Are you on my side?

JVH: Yes!

Jr: Ha! Awesome!

JVH: Yeah, I mean, I think there are people who are very successful in what they do, and they’ve got there just by what they’ve taught themselves, what they saw in the world, and how they translate things. To me that is a very emotional approach. There a whole bunch of examples of people who are really great — just look at Nan (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=0Z3sihEuiEk) Goldin (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=0Z3sihEuiEk) or Ryan McGinley (http://www NULL.ryanmcginley NULL.com/) — or look at anyone who is very closely attached to their photography and their life. Life becomes their photography.

Even look at Sally Mann (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=qZ4PftQZqo0) photographing her own family; she didn’t have to go through traditional teaching of critical thinking to do that. I hope, no I know, that she does think critically, she does! She just has not acquired the skill through university or study — but through being exposed to the subject matter and having a camera to translate her thoughts into a picture. But then, other photographers like Jeff Wall (http://www NULL.moma NULL.org/interactives/exhibitions/2007/jeffwall/) or Martin (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=4vF1X8-BTQo) Parr (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=RQV8ah7H5TA) or any of the very conceptual photographers, they know 100% what they’re doing, and for every single picture they take they know why and how they do it.

Jr: So you mean there’s a difference between having a philosophy that supports the work and simply documenting your own particular way of seeing?

JVH: Yeah, they have a vision, and they have a mission. You know, they go out and they know what they want to take, and they know the recipe and they know how to achieve what they need. I think that’s how I see myself much more; I feel that I have an idea of a picture that I want to get, and I go and create it. And that is really juxtaposed to the idea of finding an image. Like Nan Goldin — she would always go out and find things; she’s much more of a hunter and she’s hunting for images. Or there are photojournalists that do that — that’s their profession anyway by definition. But then there are the other photographers who construct images how they want them, how they see them, and really create a thought much more than an emotion.

So I guess it really depends. It depends on the photographer and the learning they go through — you know, if it’s self-taught or if they go through university. I mean, a university degree can be really great for some, but it’s really bad for others. You can’t really say yes or no to that question. It really depends.

Then, on the other hand, there are so many university degrees. In London alone they have twenty different ideas of how to teach photography and different agendas in photography. Some just look at fashion, others look at political journalism; some look very philosophically, others very technically, and there are some that go really politically or really conceptually. There’s just so many ways, and photography is so varied, that I think that really reflects the magic of photography in many ways. It isn’t just the photographer and the camera, it is so much more what the photographer wants to do, and what kind of imagery they want to produce.

Jr: Yes, I do guess it does depend on what you want out of it. I knew the answer wasn’t as simple as yes or no. So, how long were you in London?

JVH: Well, in total, seven years. I studied outside of London in Farnham which is about 45 minutes away by train. I did two and a half years in Farnham and then graduated and lived in London for another four and a half years.

Jr: So was when you graduated the moment you started your first photography collective? (Editors note: Jan has started three photography collectives — the first is called Young Photographers United (http://www NULL.ypu NULL.org/).) Was it with people you knew from school or just from, you know, around?

JVH: Umm, not really. There was probably one or two of my friends who joined in the beginning. It was more of an extension of my university degree — you know, a place where I was always surrounded by friends and we would do photography and be on the same level and we could really communicate with each other. After finishing my degree, I realized I had to really rebuild that network and find people to debate photography and make projects with. I could show them my work, get critical feedback, and we’d just do what we thought we should be doing with photography. So that’s when I set up the collective with a friend of mine and we sent out a call to anyone who wanted to be involved, and we got quite a good amount of feedback.

Jr: So, what you’re saying is, getting together and being productive and making shit happen is the best thing young photographers could do?

JVH: Yes, it’s a very important part. I’m a great believer in the collective, I’m a great believer in the debate, and I don’t think that a photographer should sit in his own little chamber, go out once in a while, and snap some pictures. Why should he? I mean, that would be…

Jr: Pretty boring.

JVH: That would be extremely boring! And I almost couldn’t take his work very seriously. Where does he place himself in the bigger picture? What is he inspired by? What does he critically think about things? How is that matched with other thinking? I mean, naturally the photographer is a very lonely practitioner, but I don’t think that there is a reason for it. You don’t need to be protective about your contacts and you don’t need to be protective about the work that you do. At some point you need to air it anyway, and as long as you’re not just shooting for yourself, why the fuck are you not showing it to people and getting some feedback?

That way it’s so much easier getting exhibitions because you know that the project is solid and you know that it works. Then you can go out and have a completely different confidence. You can ask your friends how this picture editor is, how that art buyer is, how to approach an agency, how to get representation, how all these things work — you don’t want to figure it all out yourself. There’s an incredible amount of information you need to gather there.

Jr: Yes! You’d also have access to a bunch of other photographers to work together with when you need some help or an assistant. Which is a good thing to bring up actually. What advice would you give to young photographers who want to assist other really great photographers? It’s something that in my experience is quite hard to do, especially when you’re just starting out.

JVH: It is very hard, yes, it’s definitely very hard. In London there are far too many. You have so many assistants, or so many students that want to assist, and you have too few successful photographers who need an assistant. The best way is through connections. If you see an option there, if you see an opening, then just go and grab it. Or if you have a phone number of one of those photographers that you really admire and you really want to work with, just call them up and tell them why you think you should be doing work with them — why you should be assisting them. Never ever say, “Hey! I’m looking for a job as an assistant — do you have something?” Because then they’ll just say, “There’s thousands out there, why should I have you?”

Jr: Do you think phone or email is the best way to get in touch with someone who you want to work with? I mean, these days with email you could attach a folio and some pictures and things…

JVH: Yeah, but only if that photographer is actually checking his emails and reading them and has enough time for that, then yeah, that’s great. But, you know, the further we’ve moved into the 21st Century, the more phonecalls have become completely underestimated. People might feel that an email is quick and easily done, and that you’ve just sorted it and ticked it off, but I don’t think it works as well. I think you’re lucky if it works.

On the other hand, I work mainly with people that I know — with friends. I don’t need a real photo assistant — I don’t need the ’professional’ photo assistant. I want to work with people that come fresh from school or from college and still want to take that opportunity to learn a lot. Personally that’s how it works with me. I don’t necessarily take in assistants that are only coming in for the week or a month — that’s too little time — because being a photographer is so much more complex.

So I think an aspiring assistant really has to consider at least another half year, or year, or maybe even two years with a photographer if there really is a good match. You have to invest in it. I mean, I know that Nick Knight (http://www NULL.nickknight NULL.com) only takes assistants for two years minimum because he sees it as such an investment. You know, that’s what makes sense for me, and that’s what make sense for them. We’re starting a contract of sorts. We’ll work for two years together. It’s almost an extra degree. I very much believe in that idea.

I know that when I came from university I didn’t know anything about how to be a photographer. I mean, you can do the theory, you can debate that in college or have visiting lecturers telling you how it works, but you have to build your own career. You have to build your own profession, because no photographer works the same. So, I think once you’ve finished your degree you have to think at least for another year or two to just…

Jr: Go and learn.

JVH: Go and learn! And find a photographer you can do that with. If you communicate that to the right photographer, and you can convince the right photographer that you are in tune with what they want to do, then I think that it can be a really great opportunity for both. But yeah, I’m very hesitant to take on assistants, just because it’s such a commitment. It really works when it works and it’s all the time — at least for me anyway. If you want to assist Annie Liebovitz (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=ZEjho8I8XBY) to have the thrill of a big production for a while, then go and assist her as a third, fourth or fifth assistant for a day, or two, a week, or even on an entire production. Then you’ve seen the hardcore life of a huge production. But if you want to learn more about yourself and photography, see it as an extended part of your degree and take the time to find the right photographer. Convince him or her that you need to work with them.

Jr: Yes! Great advice! So, obviously you work commercially, but you also do more fine art/personal type stuff too. Which one do you prefer? The commercial or the personal?

JVH: I’m in a really good position at the moment. I can produce my fine art work, or my personal work, and get it published in magazines that pay for the publishing. Or, on the other hand, I will get clients who want to do the same, but just slightly different, for their purposes.

Jr: You mean like what you did with the Rooftop Cinema in Melbourne and the dreams of flying stuff (http://chaseandgalley NULL.com/ongoing/rooftop-cinema-200809/), where they used what you did originally and then built on it?

JVH: Yeah, exactly. Or a client has an idea they want me to execute. But you know, I’ve had to struggle a lot to get people to understand what I do. I’m not a photographer who’ll just realize anyone’s ideas. I’m a photographer who thinks much more about photography — I want to really develop an idea. Yes, I do have a certain style, which really isn’t that important, because to me it’s much more important to go onto a project and think about the idea behind the photography. My thinking is always about photography — what can I do? What can I not do? What are the limits? Can we stretch those limits with video? Is it a moving photograph? Can we do it differently if we just turn the picture upside down? What happens then? So I have to convince people that I’m not a traditional photographer and that I’m still doing valuable work for them. I have to teach them — educate them is probably a better word — how that can function.

Which in the commercial realm is very difficult. There are Creative Directors and Art Directors and they all think about things before you get onto the scene. For me that doesn’t work. Unless of course they’ve already had me in mind in the very first step. If they say, “Let’s do this project with Jan — let’s write the concept and then we’ll contact him once we’re done.” But, of course, that doesn’t happen often.

Recently magazines have seen me as a hybrid between illustrator and photographer. They come to me with really abstract ideas. They generally have no clue what to do — they’re asking, “Should we use an illustrator or a photographer?” Which they answer by saying, “Oh! Let’s just call up Jan. Maybe he has an idea and we can develop something together.” I love that because they send me all the research, all the visuals, and everything they have, which afterward I try to build something out of. That’s a whole different way of working. I’m not translating ideas into a photograph — like what a normal, I would say average commercial photographer would do. I’m much more involved in creating the idea for the images that I will then photograph later on.

So it works very differently — I get excited about working commercially if I’m involved in the production of the contract. Obviously it’s great to be free and do whatever I have in my mind. But you know what? I have a mission, I know where I’m heading towards and I know what kind of work I want to do. I just try to do as much of it as I can in my lifetime. I want to create loads and loads of projects that always deal with the issues I want to make a point about. I can do that with a commission or I can do that if I work by myself. It’s that simple.

Jr: Let’s talk about the thinking behind photography, because I find that really interesting. There are so many people who take hundreds and hundreds of photos and put them on flickr — for them I guess that’s their way of photographing and how they see themselves as photographer. But the more successful photographers don’t seem to do that. They think a lot about what they’re going to shoot then exhibit the shots.

JVH: All the successful photographers that I know and appreciate all know what they’re doing and why they do it. I think most of them have a higher concept of what they do, which is to not just make pretty images. I believe there’s a great divide between photographers. The ones who use photography for aesthetic reasons who want to create beautiful images, which is the majority; and then there are the other photographers who want to use photography to communicate something. They may add a style onto their photography, and if it’s pretty, then it can obviously communicate better. If they have a style that works with pop culture or whatever culture they want to work with then that makes sense. But I think, and I strongly believe, that the aesthetics of a photograph always come second. It’s easy to make a beautiful picture. It doesn’t require any skill to take a good picture. Just look at all the amateurs, look at flickr — every tenth picture is pretty. It really makes a difference once you step beyond the aesthetics and understand that there is so much more than beauty.

But it’s not just photography mind you. I’d like to know from anyone that works — whether it’s a photographer or a postman. I’d like — no, I wish — that everybody knew why they were doing what they’re doing. Any creative art lends itself to people who don’t know what they want to do. It’s an, “Oh this is pretty, how nice! Oh being a photographer, how glamorous! Oh I want to be a fashion photographer, I love fashion! I want to be a commercial photographer! I want to be a portrait photographer because I like people!” That’s not enough — it’s just not enough. I think you really have to know 100% why you are in this game.

jvh4

Jr: Absolutely, definitely, and infallibly so. Speaking of flickr and digital photography, are you a fan of digital photography or not? I mean, I know commercially it’s probably really easy and important to use digital because it’s really quick and clients need things done now, but how do you feel about the whole film/digital thing?

JVH: It comes down to the concept of your photography and asking what is more suitable. If you want to have a large format camera and can afford the digital back then great! But if not just take your dark slides and do dark slides — why not? I know for me, I’m shifting back and forth depending what the project it is, or maybe how big the budget is anyway.

It’s definitely a point I always evaluate whenever I’m doing a project; whether I’m going to be shooting analogue or digital. Personally I have an array of cameras at home. They go from very snapshotty, rough and dirty to really elaborate medium format, or I could even shoot large format if I wanted to. I always make my choice of camera and technique very clear. If it’s film, what kind of film? If it’s digital, how many megapixels does it need to have? I always make the choice very specific.

Jr: So, what you’re saying is: know your craft and the technology well so you can get the image that is going to communicate most effectively the idea you want to get across.

JVH: Exactly. Some people are completely fixed on one camera, and they should not leave it. Why should they? If people think that digital is the best for them, then that’s great! But they shouldn’t just use it because it’s the easiest.

Jr: You touched on how expensive digital backs for large format cameras are and obviously that’s pretty extreme. But seriously, for young photographers especially, money is a huge issue. I mean, photography is probably always going to be a pretty expensive road to take, but how important do you think it is to have a whole heap of expensive equipment?

JVH: Get a camera, know what that camera can do, then learn how to explore and exploit it. As I said, I started my career in photography with a still life photographer and we only had large format cameras. All we would do is large format. Sometimes we would use 35mm cameras, but that was really minor. Then when I went to university I knew all about large format, but I didn’t need it for the ideas I had in my head. I realized I could just throw all this technical knowledge overboard. I didn’t ever want to shoot again with large format — I just wanted to reduce everything to the minimal.

Then my dad gave me a present. It was a small instamatic camera from Nikon. It’s a super simple product and the only thing it could do is flash on or flash off. It had a fixed 28mm lens. Even today I love that camera to bits because it’s so straightforward. I don’t think it matters what kind of camera you’re using, as long as you know what it can do and how to exploit that.

Jr: And you can communicate something with it! So we gotta wrap this up, but do you have any last advice or ideas that might be useful for anyone who’s thinking of becoming a photographer?

JVH: Well, it’s always helped me to know exactly why I’m doing this. I must always have a very clear vision in mind of why I have to be a photographer. I must always know why this is the best thing I could possibly do, why I should take pictures that matter, and not be one amongst a million who take pretty images. For me that is a very important thing to know. Whenever I question what I’m doing I can fall back on that and think, “Oh yeah! That’s why I’m doing photography. That’s true. That’s what I want to do, yeah! Let’s continue with this.”

Interview by: Ruth Morris (http://www NULL.ruth-morris NULL.com/)

Also posted in PHOTOGRAPHY | Tags: ASSISTING, BERLIN, COMMITMENT, CREATIVITY, EMAILS, FOLIO, GERMANY, INSPIRATION, JAN VON HOLLEBEN, LONDON, PHOTOGRAPHY, RUTH MORRIS, WORK

Nov 20, 09

The Interview Series // 25

Man or machine? Leo’s glowing global reputation as a ‘wunderkind’ will have you believe the latter. It was our supposition that surely he must be human — mortal and unfunny in real life — just like you or I. We ventured to New York City in order to find out, and the story goes thus: Three short years ago, Leo and his creative partner, Jan Jacobs, were anointed Saatchi & Saatchi New York’s joint Executive Creative Directors. At the time Leo was just 28. They left after one highly awarded year, joined forces again to set-up their own NYC-based agency, Johannes (http://www NULL.johannesleonardo NULL.com/) Leonardo (http://www NULL.johannesleonardo NULL.com/), and have been working harder than you in the two years since. Leo and Jan have created some of the naughties’ most awarded, hilarious, insightful, haunting, and incredibly succinct advertising you’ve likely seen or heard in London and the U.S — ads like this (http://adland NULL.tv/commercials/nspcc-ventriloquist-2003-060-uk), this (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=YMkkQO5HUXM), this (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=X2cs8gnb42A) and this (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=k6z3bGILwMg) — winning many lions and other assorted animal like statues. The jury is still out on Leo’s genetic make-up, for at the interview, Leo spewed mythical reams of advice from his lion-like mouth, then galloped off into the sunset laughing like a hyena. The Junior team turned to one-another, wide-eyed and mystified, mouths gaping like hungry, hungry hippos, gasping for air. Are we making this up? Yes. Without further ado — Leo, Leo, bo-bio. Banana-fanna-fo-fio. Mee-my-mio. Leeeee-o.

Junior: Hey Leo! Sorry about that ridiculous intro — our intern wrote it. He’s nuts. So first we wanna know, how did you get into the ad game? What was your journey from raw junior to respected senior?

Leo: It’s a little odd… I was coming out of an operation; my appendix had burst hours before I was due to board a plane to Germany for professional football trials. I woke up from the anesthetic with an advertising idea and my decision was made. I stuck to advertising. Which was a good thing because I wouldn’t have stood a chance at the whole football thing.

A couple of years before that I had been selected as one of the AFA trainees out of university. It probably helped to have an understanding of how the entire process worked from media, to strategy to account management. But it was most useful in making me absolutely desperate and determined to work in the creative department because I quickly realized I didn’t want to do any of those other things for a living.

Jr: We’re dying to know if have any stories from your time as a junior when life sucked? Any horror book crits or moments of creative block that made you reassess life and what you were doing?

L: Sure I did, I think everyone does. Don’t be intimidated by thinking creating great work comes completely naturally to some people. Truth is, anyone who is any good has spent hours and hours perfecting their craft and if they tell you otherwise they’re full of it.

And the same goes for ‘creative block’. I don’t want to sit here and say I never have it, of course I do. I think the trick is to try and not see it as ‘creative block’. See it as something that happens to everyone, something you just need to work through or come at from a different angle.

Jr: Wow. Yes. You have no idea how relieving that is to hear from you. You know what else is intimidating? Awards. Obviously you’ve won a lot. Everyone has their own take on what they mean and what they should mean. 99% would agree they mean nothing when compared to ‘creativity’ or ‘effectiveness’ or ‘selling lots of shit and making your client happy’. How important have they been to you and how should we as juniors approach the current award industry?

L: I remember being about 25, at Cannes for the fist time and winning 4 or so Cannes Lions. I realized pretty much right then and there that awards weren’t going to keep me excited about getting out of bed each morning.

At the end of the day the most important thing for any junior to do is understand what sort of creative person they want to be. Then to strike that balance of getting enough respect and trust to actually one day be able to create that path for yourself.

Personally, I believe award shows matter less now than they once did. Partly because there’s so many of them, and partly because everyone has a gazillion of them, including students, but more importantly because why would we care so much to see what a panel of 20 or so people think when we have the opportunity to see what millions of people think about our ideas?

The true reward for our creations now is seeing how they effect and touch the public.

Jr: Ah yes! But! If that be true, are award books worth looking at these days for inspiration or an education in ideas?

L: I think it’s important to know what’s been done before, and what hasn’t, to know the rules so you know how to break them, to know the history of work and of a category. As a junior you should soak up all the inspiration you can get.

I’d just say don’t try and replicate the stuff you see in books. We live in unique and as they say exponential times. Things are changing quicker than ever before, so what was good a year back has never become so old so quickly.

True inspiration though — that’s not in award books. It’s around us in the world we live. But if the books can help make the work better year upon year, and ultimately the stuff we force into the public’s face a little less crap, then I guess we should take them any which way we can.

Jr: Someone once told us, “Leo is a genius. He was also supported by brilliant ECDs at every agency he went to.” How important have your mentors been to how you approach your work and what should juniors look for in a brilliant mentor?

L: Absolutely crucial. Whenever I see a junior unsure of which agency to join I tell them to focus on the individuals there. Ultimately it’s the individuals there who will help guide you and who define those places during the time they spend there. I was lucky enough to work under some great ones, but even more than that I got to work alongside some as a junior writer. With Toby Talbot at Colenso BBDO and of course a few years later working with Jan at Saatchi & Saatchi London.

So I’ll always be appreciative of how much time senior creatives gave me when I was knocking on their doors with a bad portfolio. Granted I could be an absolute pain in the ass so it was probably easier to see me than not back then. There are great people out there, generous with their time and passionate about their jobs, it’s really just a matter of tracking them down and feeding off them.

Jr: Could you possibly speculate how important working internationally has been to your career? Can you imagine if you had stayed in Australia and where you might be now?

L: Probably a much better surfer than I am these days…

Advertising is a great vehicle to check out the rest of the world. But the strange thing is wherever I’ve ended up I’ve always been glad that I started out in Australia. When there isn’t a whole lot to rely in terms of budgets, production time and global media buys you’re only left with the strength of your idea so that’s what you focus on. Once you’ve learnt how to make your idea bullet proof, all those other layers, they only make your original idea better.

Jr: What’s your best advice for dealing with politics within an agency, both dealing with others and fighting for ideas, especially when you’re at the bottom rung of the hierarchy?

Work for someone you believe can spot good ideas. It’s that simple. Chances are part of the reason you got into this industry is because you realized the work rules. So take advantage of that as a junior. My advice would be don’t worry about the other stuff. More and more the true power will lie in the hands of creative people, and we all know the best ones aren’t political.

Jr: Obviously there are a lot of kids coming straight out of ad schools today with the same work for the same old clients with the same witty headlines and such… What are you looking for in a junior and what can those graduating from the ad schools do differently to stand out and impress someone like you?

L: The best way I can think to explain that is with something John Lennon said. He was once asked why he wrote music and he responded by comparing it to writing a letter. Writing the letter, he said, got him excited but what he really got off on was the response he would get to that letter. That’s it at its essence. We’re looking for people who have that thing inside them, that urge to touch people with their ideas, those who live for simplifying things down to a common language that effects people, deeply and broadly.

Of course, now you’re also trying to stand out during the biggest recession of our lifetimes. But I believe that soon this will be an advantage to the kids coming through. History has shown that when the slate is clean, when things are being re-appraised, and it’s happening on two levels in our industry right now – on a technological and an economic level, it’s the turn of the new guard to step up…

So don’t underestimate yourself, don’t set the bar at junior thinking. You’re competing with every kid out there with a digital camera and internet access. We live in a democratic era of communication, a time of accessibility and participation, where big production budgets can in some cases be more of a burden than a gift.

Jr: Generating ideas – what’s your process? Have you got any crucial tips to tackling a problem creatively?

L: I ain’t got any secrets. It happens differently every time, that’s part of the fun. I don’t really keep shortlists of my ideas. I know if it’s good enough it’ll stick around in my head – Jan calls it ‘the volt’. I would say though, don’t ignore the things that on the surface don’t seem crucial to creating great advertising. Like, spending time to identify what the real problem is – not just the advertising problem but the business problem, and embracing the limits imposed on you. It’s often there the real gem lies.

I also think it’s important to keep in mind, especially as a junior when you don’t have a ton of production experience that as big and important as coming up with the great idea, is understanding what about it will keep it great. Another reason why it’s so important which creative director you work under.

Jr: OK, enough of that cliche ad-guy question guff — how the hell do you live a balanced life? You obviously work really hard. Is that something that comes naturally or do you have to sacrifice things to make your life liveable outside of hard work?

L: Hard work has never felt like hard work because it’s something I’ve always loved. Reducing something down to is most basic form, I’m not sure how many other professions there are where you have the same tools as anyone else in the business irrelevant of your experience – a blank pad and a pen.

So for me loving what you do is the most important ingredient really. If people advise you against being a creative don’t listen to them, listen to your heart. If you’re passionate enough about what you do, you’ll work hard enough at it and the skill will eventually come. Just make sure you’ve instilled a healthy effort reward ratio. By that I mean make sure you’re always working on something you’re excited about – which usually means something you haven’t done before.

Jr: How far into the future do you look? You’re not that far past thirty and you’ve already achieved more accolades than many people achieve in their entire careers. We know you probably don’t buy into that sort of statement, but where to next? How often do you need to reassess your career and where it fits within your entire life? Do you even think about that shit?

L: I was made ECD of the Saatchi & Saatchi New York office when I was 28, and I remember when I would walk there across west 4th street, there was a faded chalk scribble that would always catch me out. It simply said ‘where are you going?’. Every time I read it, it made me think: where was I going? To another meeting? To a corner office? Over time, without me realizing it, I think these four words embedded themselves into my subconscious.

So when I look back on it now Jan and I left Saatchi and Saatchi because we kinda had this feeling inside we weren’t being pushed as much as we could be. We began directing a couple of things and really enjoyed that as a distraction. But we knew there was a bigger issue on the table. We felt the world around us was changing quicker than the big agency model could, and us if we stayed in one. So even if you don’t intend to look far ahead, I guess there’s something inside of us that does.

Best of luck juniors, I hope this helps.

Also posted in ADVERTISING | Tags: ADVERTISING, CREATIVITY, HUNGER, INSPIRATION, JOB HUNTING, NEW YORK, SUCCESS, THE INTERVIEW SERIES

Nov 11, 09

The Interview Series // 24

woody

Most interviews we read in magazines are shit. It’s what inspires us to do what we do. That and other magazines that do brilliant interviews. Magazines like SneakerFreaker – Melbourne’s very own incredibly good and culturally important international publishing success. Founded, edited and owned by the original sneaker freaker himself, Woody has built SF into a global behemoth. He’s also seen his fair share of young upstarts float through his office, lived and worked overseas, moved from career to career, started a family, and even has SF translated into Spanish. Which means he has some fascinating shit to say and some incredibly crucial advice to give. As usual, over many a beer, we sat and talked for hours. Ergo, this fucker is long. But that’s cool, cause the ones who need to read it most have a lot of time on their hands. So grab a tea, put on your headphones and use this as a guide to figuring out what the hell you’re gonna do for the next twenty years.

Junior: Hey Woody. What’s your coming of age story? When were you at uni?

Woody: I spent five good years doing the Media course at RMIT in Melbourne. I was involved in a bunch of stuff and ended up becoming the co-editor of the student newspaper, Catalyst, which was literally a catalyst for me in terms of how my life panned out. I was introduced to a whole bunch of people who’d been the editors before and I ended up living with them for years, and for some reason they took me under their wing, which was weird because I was a wildman from the suburbs. Fitzroy was a very creative place then. We started a magazine from our house called Radar and had these awesome parties in the bank vault where we lived on Smith St. They were good times. I hate getting nostalgic when we’re only one question in…

Jr: Ha, man, you can do whatever you want one question in – it’s your interview. So tell me more about Catalyst; the student newspaper.

W: Oh yeah. So because we won an election to edit the newspaper, all of a sudden we had to learn how to make it; you know, write, design and create the whole thing. We were the first editors to get a Macintosh computer too. It was totally primitive before that point. We started the year with a bromide camera which we used to put screens on images for manual paste-up, as well as creating multiple tones for hand-made colour work which we did with scalpels. My memories involve a lot of sliced fingers and layouts lost in the wax machine. When we saw a scanner for the first time, we were really, really impressed. Actually my entire design career started when my friend Bert showed me how to move things around on the Mac screen. It’s hard to imagine how boring life was before the machines existed. No one I knew was a graphic designer. It was a trade, like being a plumber. People spent years learning how to do things in a really mechanical sort of way. When the computer came along, all of a sudden, you could have fun with a machine and make stuff. Straight away I really got into design which was totally unexpected. I never thought about a career in design at high school, where art classes were seen merely as a bludge. Random things can spin your life off in a whole new direction, it’s the kind of thing your mum tells you but you never believe her.

Jr: Damn straight. As long as you open yourself up to happy accidents you’ll be fine for sure. So we know you moved to London for a while after uni. What brought on the London thing?

W: I’d encourage everyone to head for the hills immediately after school finishes, because you’ll never get a better time to do it. But the real reason I left was because I almost got involved in some trouble with the fuzz after doing the O-book where we wrote the usual student articles about shoplifting and taking drugs and shoplifting while on drugs and not paying for tram tickets. All the cliches.

Jr: Ha! Wow. Really? That was you?

W: Oh yeah, it was par for the course in those days. It was a tradition to stir the pot so we just rewrote the same articles over and over every year. I think a year or two after my indiscretions they nailed the editors of Rabelais (another student newspaper) for the exact same type of content and it seriously fucked them for years – so going to London was a great move.

Jr: Sounds like it was. So what was the plan?

W: I thought I could parlay my limited experience into something design related, but all I really knew was that I didn’t want to work in a pub like every other aussie dingbat. I’m pleased to say I did one day as a street cleaner and that was enough motivation for me. I got so, so close to a design job at NME, which would have been awesome. I also made the final two for Penthouse as well. That would have been interesting for sure.

Jr: So were you into ‘The Face (http://www NULL.flickr NULL.com/groups/thefacemagazine/pool/)’ and all those types of magazines coming out of the UK at the time?

W: I was obsessed. I never felt iD so much but I loved Raygun (http://www NULL.flickr NULL.com/photos/joekral/sets/72157621244439899/) and The Face. From a design point of view, Neville Brody (http://en NULL.wikipedia NULL.org/wiki/Neville_Brody)’s work was great but it was the mix of content that hooked me. The Face made London seem underground and wicked cool and it had fashion and art and politics and serious stuff as well as loads of club news and even it has to be said, quite a few sneakers. It was probably the most effective marketing tool any city has ever had but you go there and you find that it’s a grey depressive shithole. But that’s only one visual side of London, the other is that it has the most vigorous youth culture – certainly it’s the top city for music in my opinion. I really regret not keeping my collection of The Face, I had years and years of them but they were too heavy to lug from house to house.

Jr: Ha, awesome. What year did you go?

W: 1993 or something.

Jr: OK, here’s a good question: For a lot of fresh faced uni kids that go overseas, the ‘big break’ rarely comes. They haven’t got any contacts, they haven’t done any work yet, so they’re not even that good.

W: Well the thing is they’re pretty much unemployable. Sorry to break it to you kids but it’s the truth, no matter how cocky you are. I think bullshitting is perfectly acceptable in order to get a break, just be sure you can do what you say you can do. I was fortunate enough to get picked up by a freelance agency. I also went to the UK at a time when no one really had the skills that I thought I had, so it was a bit easier in hindsight. My big break was to learn on the job at someone’s expense even if I taught myself.

Jr: What were the skills?

W: Well, I mean, desktop design as it used to be called. At that time it was Quark Express, a very early version of Photoshop and Illustrator – so the programs are still the same, but at that time no one knew how to use them. You couldn’t learn it anywhere. It wasn’t in the tertiary system. So I turned up to London expecting them to be high tech and super advanced but then realised I was one of maybe a few hundred people in the city at the time who knew anything at all about Macs.The advertising agency I worked for had no computers except for the receptionist’s PC. Everything in the creative department was done by hand and illustrators did all the mock ups with Yoken markers. It was seriously like the Dark Ages.

Jr: So who picked you up?

W: I started working for a few freelance agencies. I bought a suit to wear to big banks to create flow charts which I did for about three or four months.

Jr: Did you make much money?

W: I think I earned ten pounds an hour or something like that, which was pretty sharp in those days, certainly better than pulling pints. Luckily my agency really liked me and they gave me a crack at a job that was going at a small advertising agency in SoHo.

Jr: How long were you in London all up?

W: Quite a while. I developed a really bodgy English accent that got me through. I guess you could say I was slightly overstaying my welcome, officially speaking.

Jr: Ha, yeah we know the one. Did you make friends when you were there?

W: Yeah. I made all my friends, still ten or more years later, based on this time.

Jr: Really?

W: Yeah. All my closest English friends except one have emigrated here to Melbourne.

Jr: Wow! Really? Why?

W: It’s a great place to live. To come here from London and have sunshine and space and freedom and this ‘Neighbours’ lifestyle dare I say it, it gets more and more attractive as you get into your 30s. One of my oldest friends even had his mum emigrate. I think going back to London now would be pretty devastating from a lifestyle point of view. Melbourne has its weaknesses, but the lifestyle isn’t one, although with the price of houses now, we’re in danger of it becoming unaffordable for anyone creative or less than committed to the corporate grind.

Jr: A lot of people think the same way I suppose. Although London has all the culture and so on.

W: When you’re in your twenties and you’re mad for it, for sure. If you’re going out all night, every night, it’s a great place to live. It was absolutely brilliant, there was always something entertaining to do.

Jr: Did you do that? Did you go out all night, every night, while you were working?

W: I gave it a good nudge!

Jr: What happened when you came home?

W: After the usual case of mild post-travelling blues, I worked in advertising for a year at Patterson Bates (GPY&R). It wasn’t a great time for the company; I think they lost a lot of pitches. It was ok. I wasn’t excited about what I was doing. It wasn’t that creative. Maybe I should have been pushier and tried to get into writing TV ads or something. But my priorities were elsewhere, I was DJ’ing and organizing events at night and doing other stuff that was a lot more fun.

Jr: Did you like the advertising industry?

W: Yes and no. I was a little disenchanted creating junkmail which to be honest, which is what I did. In the 80s, it must have been a wild scene with so much money floating about. In London I arrived at the tail end of that and they were all misty eyed about these crazy times when, you know, ‘Steve rode his Harley down the hallway and crashed, knocking himself out on the photocopier’ or one classic I remember was when a new guy called Nobby joined the firm. The story was on his first day he managed to spill a Flaming Lamborghini on the boss and set his shirt on fire at dinner. In Australia it was much more conservative. I had green hair. It wasn’t going to end well and I wasn’t thinking about a career. I never have really.

Jr: The employment prospects haven’t always been great for school leavers have they?

W: Nope. When I left Uni, there was nothing going on. I think a lot of kids leaving university are facing a similar sort of situation. The pressure is to get a break somehow, but beyond that, if you are useful and you can justify your own existence at a company they will always find room for you. The hard thing is when you have no experience and you can’t prove that you can or can’t do something. You have to make yourself valuable.

Jr: Is that something that you had to work on? Making yourself valuable? Or were you just like that?

W: I wouldn’t say I ‘worked on it’. I just worked. The harder you work, the luckier you get. I was annoying, quite frankly. I got into radio by annoying people, and ended up working at various radio stations while at Uni. I bugged people til they let me have a go. I think that just being super keen is all you can really expect from somebody at a young age.Think about it, you can do whatever you want with your life but only if you have a crack. However, I think there are some things you can teach people and some things you can’t. An understanding of the world and how things interrelate – you can’t teach anyone that. It’s an instinctive thing. If you are going to work in fashion, you need to ‘get it’. There’s no point just trying to be in that industry because you think it’s glamorous or you’ll get to root models. You’ll be chewed up by someone who’d climb over your dead body for a job.

Jr: Have you gone through your fair share of young people who aren’t diligent at Sneaker Freaker?

W: We’ve had a pretty good track record. A few times I’ve tried to advertise and get someone out of college but never really found the right person. We’re a really small outfit and I don’t have time to teach someone from scratch. It’s frustrating for me but I learned that you can’t expect too much initially, you have to be patient and let them work it out. I’ve had some pretty funny experiences. One kid trying out for a job told me that I couldn’t teach him anything about Photoshop, and he’d probably been using it for two years. He was actually quite skilled, but I think his attitude alone rang bells for a potential employer. You want a little bit of cockiness but you don’t want someone who doesn’t listen and doesn’t think that they can’t learn. You mainly want accuracy and speed, that’s super important. That is one thing that the school environment doesn’t seem to promote in my experience. Young kids get tired and need a little nap to get back on track. It’s a grind. You’ve got to be productive 8 or 9 hours a day.

Jr: There’s a lot of talent going around, but not a lot of work ethic. I suppose there’s always going to be someone more talented than you, but it’s about how passionate you are and how hard you work.

W: True. I gotta say, the work ethic of Gen Y kids is a hot topic amongst my peers right now. I think that’s because they are now managing staff for the first time, but there’s definitely a sense that the GFC could be a good thing as it might take a few uppity kids down a peg or two. I’m not so sure this generation’s work ethic is that much different from my own Gen X clique… just a little more distracted by the overdose of technology.

Jr: What’s the most valuable skill to have aside from being keen?

W: A knack for networking. It’s a shit name for it but it is what it is. You can’t teach someone how to do it, though you might learn the secret someday through observation. It’s a vague business. Some people just have a knack at making friends with other people who can help them. That’s why starting a mag or writing a blog can become so universally useful. You meet people. Forget about the rest of it, meeting people and connecting the dots is crucial. You can base an entire career on knowing people.

Jr: Oh god, don’t get me started on social media and ‘networking’. I think we’ve got to be careful, you know. Everyone seems to get so caught up in the conversation and being part of the technology that they actually forget to do stuff. Everyone is talking about it, making comments, but not actually creating anything.

W: No shit! I picked up a biz card recently where this kid had over 12 ways of contacting them and I wondered how the hell he gets anything done? People get obsessed with Twitter, but six months ago something different was happening. I’ve seen it with trends, and in footwear, certain things have come and gone so fast I’m still scratching my head. I must admit the pace of change recently has really kicked up a gear. We’re now facing a world where TV, newspapers, magazines and even radio are no longer the foundation of our media diet. The porn industry is on its knees! Books are on the way out as well, at least in a printed sense. I’m really intrigued as to whether this new Kindle could really do for books what the iPod has done for music.

snkrfrkr

Jr: That’s an interesting point. Sneaker Freaker is kinda like a book. It’s a bit nicer than the usual magazine really. You must sell a few more older issues than any other magazine. Do you think the content goes out of date?

W: It does and it doesn’t. You can’t buy those shoes anymore, but every magazine becomes a document of its time so you can go back and still enjoy them as a snapshot of the years they were made. We sell a lot of our old issues, more than most magazines perhaps. Magazines are a good barometer of style and opinion and when you go back you do get a good insight into the times. We’ve been going about seven years or so and really the first one was pretty raw when you look at it. I have to say it was actually designed that way on purpose, but still, it was pretty loose. I wish I could have seen into the future.

Jr: Ha, I totally have that copy. How many people were working on it then?

W: The magazine didn’t have any staff for probably the first four years. Hans DC came to work with me part time helping in various ways. I wish I’d ramped it up earlier but I just didn’t have the foresight to go for it. I was also still working on my label called Wankuss (with my friend Alasdair McKinnon), as well as doing design work for films like Ned Kelly and Queen of the Damned and other stuff. I liked to keep my options open.

Jr: Really? It was just you? Wow. Back then a lot of clever people put out free magazines. I used to read Stu Magazine and Large whenever I could get my hands on them.

W: Stu was good. Vice came along. And Lucky. There were about seven free magazines floating around. Our first edition was free then I decided to charge for it. People still think it’s free.

Jr: Yeah it seemed to be the heyday of free magazines.

W: Yep. Not sure we’ll see too many new ones open up for business. But I have a killer idea for a new magazine that would be awesome which only proves how out of touch I really am.

Jr: Haha. Maybe. Maybe not. You’d probably be surprised. I’m sure that’s what people said when you came up with an idea So why sneakers?

W: I thought that I was one of the few people who were into sneakers, but then I could see it was bigger than I thought – there were a lot of guys like me who had 50 or 60 shoes in their closet but we didn’t know each other. Sneakers are one of those things that men can talk animatedly, dudes are really into their feet. It used to be about Air Max and chunky runners but it’s flipped on its head now. Pointer and Clae and Gourmet are doing very well, brands with simple things, not super jacked-up runners. Trends are definitely changing. You can’t stop progress, but it’s easy to feel like a dinosaur.

Jr: Was it difficult starting up a magazine?

W: Not really, because I only needed a few thousand dollars to get it printed. Then by issue two people wanted to buy it. Our first international customer was a very well known store in Paris.

Jr: Wow! How did they find you?

W: Through our website. We were one of the first online sneaker sites. The reason they are so renowned is because they find out about something before anyone else. They’re the top of their game. I was in there last week and it was mental how many people go in there. It’s like a tourist attraction! Once we went international I also had to learn about things like international shipping, which became crucial to the business growing. Boring things like this are so important and can be the difference between survival and death.

Jr: That’s the thing with publishing in Australia. You can print it here but then you’ve gotta ship all those heavy issues overseas. Some magazines print overseas and distribute it that way. Do you ever do that?

W: Once about five years ago we sold out of an issue in about a week and we got another order of 2000 copies. The reprint quote locally was nuts, so I found a printer in China and got them shipped straight out of there. I haven’t done it since. We’re still printed in Melbourne, five blocks from my house. It’s just too stressful to not know where your job and therefore your whole life is at. I remember all too well a launch party in Sydney where the magazines were still on a truck locked in the warehouse as a result of a snap industrial action.

Jr: Can you raise a family on a niche publication?

W: I can now. In the first few years I never had staff to pay so the overheads were low. I learned over time how to make money from a variety of sources. You can sell magazines, advertising, online banners, syndicate your content and do marketing for brands and product development. I have to say in every respect, I learned the hard way. Piece by piece. I learned a lot from watching other people and making mistakes. I also had to learn to trust people in other countries. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. I’ve been pretty lucky in that department.

Jr: And I guess you have that giant monolith Nike to buoy you up.

W: Nike has always been good to me, right from the start. But we are also supported by nearly every other brand in the footwear biz. If you wanna start a niche magazine, make sure what you do is invaluable to the marketing managers of multinational companies or you’ll forever be pushing shit uphill.

Jr: How would someone who really wants to work in big brand sneakers approach getting a job at a company like that? How do they go about it?

W: Actually we did a feature about how to get into the business a while back. There’s a few simple things. Every brand needs accountants and pen pushers but if you’re talking about shoe design, a lot of the guys at Nike and other brands are originally architects or sculptors, in other words they had an idea of three-dimensional space that could be translated to footwear. Shoe design school didn’t really exist til recently. Doing research on any company that you want to work for is a must. Knowing everything about them, but also having an understanding of how they hire is essential. If you want to work for adidas, find out how to get in contact with their HR department. Start on the phones or in their factory outlet and build your way up. There are plenty of CEOs who started in the mailroom. It’s also thinking strategically. Working for Sneaker Freaker could be a good way to get in as it’s an insight into the industry. Foot Locker wouldn’t hurt either. You need to know what you’re talking about and have a foundation of knowledge.

Jr: Loving sneakers isn’t enough at the end of the day; you have to have some sort of skill or craft.

W: Correct. Loving something can actually be a handicap, if you wanna be a hardass about it. When you love something too much, your opinion and judgment can be clouded by sentiment. But if it was me, I’d go for the passion every time. I think one of the biggest things that kids could learn is to be persistent. Some kids expect to start as a junior and take over the company in two years. Or if you start your own thing, that you’ll be rich overnight. The reality is that businesses mature over a few years and it takes you time to work out what you are actually doing, unless you are super advanced or lucky. It’s human nature that is probably exacerbated by this frantic model we’ve built up. Everyone wants everything yesterday. If only it was that easy… whatever happened to paying your dues?

Jr: I think that’s a wonderful point to make. Persistence is something we’re big on. But sometimes persistence isn’t even enough. You know, it’s really hard to do something big in such a small market place like Australia. Take publishing for example: If you want to get distribution of your magazines, you’ve got to be in a bigger market.

W: That’s true, but I don’t think that’s a reason not to do anything. It’s like procrastinators who never do anything because they’re too cool to put themselves out there or they think it’ll never work so why bother. Melbourne is full of creative people, the only problem is that most of them are, like anywhere else, mildly talented at best. The most talented ones find it a struggle to attract the same benefactors they’d find in Europe or the US. Look how many talented Australians have to leave? We are a nation of 22 million, the same size as greater New York. So to answer your question, you def need to be in a bigger market, but it’s not going to happen sitting on your date in Fitzroy drinking Chai and smoking rollies. You have to work your ass off. In my own world, I realised that if I wanted to succeed beyond Australia, I learned from others that staying home in my office wasn’t gonna make it happen. I’m on the road a lot.

Jr: Isn’t Sneaker Freaker translated into Spanish?

W: Yeah, it has been for the past two years. It’s been going really well and we have a great partner running the office over in Barcelona. I’m pretty sure we are the first Aussie magazine to be translated into a foreign language.

Jr: Do you ever think about moving it all overseas?

W: I have at different times, but this is where I’m from and this is where I’m staying. The footwear industry in Australia is in Melbourne. But I think I do regret not moving a bit. Maybe I’m just not the personality type to really take it to the max… Either way, we have been successful on our own terms which is just part of the story.

Jr: Maybe because you married and had kids. Was that the plan? To settle down?

W: I think that cycle of life is inevitable. I wish I’d had a family earlier in hindsight, but we can all look back and say that. Luckily I have a very understanding wife who encouraged me to go for it, even if she recently confided that she thought the magazine was a crazy idea and would be lucky to last six months.

Jr: Any plans to expand your team?

W: I would like to find an Editor to take over next year so I can spend some time working on different ideas. We are always looking for writers. But it’s hard to find anyone who can write these days, as well as have a command of sneakers. If anyone is interested they can email info@sneakerfreaker.com (info null@null sneakerfreaker NULL.com).

Jr: So that means that you could focus on running the business.

W: Absolutely, I could move to the Bahamas and sit under a palm tree with my blackberry.

Jr: And a cocktail! Any final advice for the kids who wanna start a magazine and make a living out of it?

W: My advice is go for it. What the hell. What’s the worst that can happen? You might go bankrupt and have to flee to Brazil… just don’t let anyone tell you something can’t be done or you’ve got a stupid idea. I had that plenty of times. How many people get rich from stupid ideas?

Also posted in DESIGN, PUBLISHING, WRITING | Tags: ADVERTISING, COMMITMENT, CREATIVITY, HUNGER, INSPIRATION, JOB HUNTING, LONDON, MAGAZINE, MELBOURNE, OVERSEAS, PUBLISHING, RMIT, SNEAKERFREAKER, SNEAKERS, THE INTERVIEW SERIES, WOODY, WORK, WRITING

Oct 22, 09

Interview Series // 23 (Part One)

daniel

“Have you ever played the Legend of Zelda? That’s what getting a job in advertising is like.” This, my precocious and talented friends, is exactly the sort of nerdy but insightful advice you’re likely to get from Daniel Bremmer (http://peachfuzz NULL.net/), especially after two shots of Absinthe, three cocktails and a round of Coopers. We met to conduct this interview on a beautiful summer’s evening in a quaint Brooklyn establishment, and sat talking shit for hours. We talked about highschool, the New York ad industry, the Obama campaign, the Legend of Zelda and even the merits of not having sex. You see, Daniel’s a 35-year-old kid from California, freelancing in New York City, trying his hardest to save the world, and has something to say about everything. Which he’s allowed to, for he’s pretty much worked on everything, everywhere, from Microsoft to Prius to Coke and Obama. He’s also just launched a site to save health care in the U.S. named notatable.org (http://www NULL.notatable NULL.org/). But! Let. Me. Tell. You! That stuff didn’t matter after a particularly potent round of cocktails. You know what did? Talking to strangers sitting next to us, that’s what! Which we did for so long, we totally forgot we were there to do an interview, until Daniel remembered, and things got interesting…

Daniel: Alright! Start! What do you want to ask?

Junior: Ugh. I don’t even know anymore.

D: Come on! I’m the one that’s supposed to be drunk, not you.

Jr: I know!

D: You should have been sober. You should have been drinking coffee.

Jr: No, no! I’m all good! I swear! Alright, alright. I usually like to start with a quick rundown of where you started out, what you wanted to do, how you got into uni, and then the job, you know…

D: My life story?

Jr: Well… *Hiccup* …Yeah, I guess. Quick though! Two hundred words or less!

D: Ha, OK. I’ll try. I grew up in Orange County. It was a very conservative place. My parents are somewhat hippy. We grew food in the backyard. We had pet chickens. I went to Space Camp (http://www NULL.spacecamp NULL.com/). My Dad was an engineer. My Mother was a teacher. I was the oldest child. Very idealistic. Tragedy struck. I had a brother die when I was in fourth grade. He was six months old. He was a baby. Really bad. I had a bad time in school after that. Wanted to take a class in Graphic Design, which wasn’t what it was called, it was some weird word. I signed up because I heard you got to make t-shirts. And I wanted to make t-shirts for bands I liked.

Jr: What bands were you listening to?

D: Well me and my friends were into this weird mix. There weren’t enough kids in my high school to have different alternative scenes. This was before Nirvana came out with Nevermind. Like, right before. Because we didn’t have enough alternative kids, we had to combine all the high schools together. All the kids would go to the goth club wearing black. Then the next week we’d go to the shoegaze concert, and we’d all be wearing corduroys and creepers. It was all the same kids. There weren’t enough kids to have different scenes; so all the kids who were into cool shit from all the different high schools were one scene.

Jr: And where was this? California?

D: Huntington Beach. A little conservative beach town.

Jr: Is this like The O.C (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=yMGyl-l3qqc)? The TV show?

D: Yeah, that’s set in Newport Beach, which borders Huntington Beach.

Jr: So all the cool alternative kids made their own scene…

D: It wasn’t cool though! What we did became cool after we graduated. While we were doing it, it was super dorky.

Jr: So shoegaze and goth was super dorky.

D: Super dorky. Everybody liked bad hair metal and R&B.

Jr: I think this is a good opportunity to talk about schooling. A lot of high school students read these things you know. So what were you like at school?

D: Well I never did my homework. I was a horrible student. I loved to learn and I was a gifted kid. I was in honors, but I nearly got kicked out as a freshman for skipping class.

Jr: So did you have a problem with focus? Was that what it was?

D: Well it was all my fault, in retrospect. I didn’t have the discipline to do it. But when you really look at it, I knew that I knew the subject material. The teacher knew that I knew the material. I knew that the teacher knew that I knew the material… Everybody knew. And I wasn’t allowed to just cut through the bullshit. No one was allowed to do that. Because you had to jump through these hoops. And that just seemed stupid. I couldn’t comprehend how that mattered. In life, especially. And sadly, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter at all.

Jr: Yeah it doesn’t matter, but it does matter! Because it’s all about discipline and focus and sitting down and doing the work.

D: But you know what? I am a disciplined and focused motherfucker today. I remember I had a freelancer, while I was working at SS+K (http://www NULL.ssk NULL.com/) on a project, and he wanted to go home. It was ten o’clock, there was shit to be done, and I couldn’t understand. I said, “You’re trying to go home? What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s not done. It’s only ten o’clock. Grow a pair.”

Jr: Heh, yeah, grow a pair.

D: “We’re doing shit. Grow the fuck up. If you want to do shit then we need to do it right.” So when it comes to that level of focus and discipline on my projects, I’m incredibly dedicated. I guess at the time, teenage me never saw the value of jumping through hoops to prove something. So anyways, you can edit all that out. No one cares about that.

Jr: But I do think it’s important! Think about the kids! They need to know this stuff. They should feel they’re not alone and so on.

D: Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, fast forward a bit and I went to Community College after High School, got into design, I wasn’t that good, the dot-com thing came around and suddenly I was being paid a lot of money. I still wasn’t very good. But I could learn html and I was a really mediocre designer. This was the late nineties.

I DJ’d at a college radio station. I used to write for music magazines. I used to promote concerts. I was really involved in the underground music scene in Southern California. That was my life. It was through music that I discovered art and design.

And then I worked my way into a really crappy Orange County ad agency called Priscomm. I was their web guy. And I saw this guy Jimmy who was the Creative Director and his job was to look at a business problem and come up with ideas that became ads, which I would then make into websites. So I thought, “So he just sits around and thinks… And comes up with ideas… And gets to pay rent that way? You can do that? That’s an option?” So I took a night class in advertising, fell in love with it, and then it all started.

Jr: How old were you when you took a night class?

D: Maybe mid twenties? Like 25. Maybe 26?

Jr: You were 26 when you realized you wanted to do advertising?

D: Yeah. I had no idea that I could do that.

Jr: You know what the funny thing about that is. I know a whole bunch of 21, 22, 23 year olds that feel like they are over, they’re too old, by the time they get into advertising.

D: Dude, I just stopped getting carded at bars and I’m 35. It’s the beard.

Jr: Ha.

D: I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell you.

Jr: I think this is the biggest problem with juniors. They think that their time is up by 25.

D: Sprout a pair. When I started at Art Center College of Design, the average age was 24. It very quickly changed. Now it’s down to like 18 or 19 years because of funding problems. But it used to be that it was a second career. For most of the people I know that are really good, it’s a second career.

Jr: Well that’s what we’re kinda hearing. That back in the day when the mavericks were running the industry it was full of misfits. The dudes from Brooklyn who didn’t know what to do with their lives but were super smart and street savvy and could sell anything to anyone. Apparently they were the guys who were getting into advertising. And now it’s become full of a lot of fresh-faced marketing kids straight out of uni who think they can change the world with a social media strategy.

D: All we need is smart people who are willing to call bullshit on everything. I have this issue. I’m freelancing at a large agency right now, I’m not going to say who they are… but you meet these people, and some of them are brilliant. It’s a large agency with a very good reputation. But sometimes you meet a person and you think, “Why are you here?” It’s filled with people who don’t understand how people communicate today. It’s like they still live in the old days of two creative guys sitting in a room who had an idea of what the world should be because they had these great lifestyles. They saw movies and did drugs at work and got paid big salaries to talk about their ideas all day. They had these ideas about what the world should be like and they turned them into awesome 30 or 60 second commercials and big lavish print ads that they shot in exotic locations. That’s over. That world still exists in some way, but it’s not relevant anymore.

Most people in America don’t live that life. They deal with real problems. They have their own ideas. They’re used to a different type of communication where they don’t suck down what the TV tells them anymore. They tell the TV what they want to watch. And when they don’t like it, they fast-forward or they skip it, right? They don’t even fucking look at paper anymore. They do once in a while, but if it’s not relevant to them then they don’t care.

The world of media and communication is dramatically changing and advertising works within that world. The skills that we have of, ‘I am a Copywriter. This guy is an Art Director. We get together and come up with ideas and they’re gonna look pretty and sound nice,’ is not necessarily the skill set that people who use social media, a medium that allows these people to express their ideas and control what they want, resonate with. Sometimes it is. Because I think all those people will sit down, even the most jaded among us, close the laptop, turn off the lights and watch a great fucking show. So that still exists on some level. But for the general majority of advertising, we need to figure out what these people want. What these people are interested in. We need to find a way to make our work relevant to them. I don’t think that’s the way advertising works today, and I don’t think the way we teach people to make advertising is relevant anymore. It’s fucking dumb.

Jr: And most definitely in New York!

D: New York is the worst! I have to live it! I sat in a room the other day to talk about a campaign for a large company’s effort in the health care industry, and it’s in a good way, they actually make things to improve health care. But I counted fourteen people in the conference room.

Jr: Wow! Fourteen! That’s fucked!

D: I know! Only four of them were involved in the ideation of what was happening. The meeting took about two hours. Nothing was accomplished. Which means this large American company was paying for fourteen people to sit around and feel important. For what? That’s what New York is.

Jr: OK, so, Obama. You need to tell me about Obama, start to finish.

D: Am I going to be forever known as the guy who did some work on Obama? Did I peak on November 4th, 2008? Am I over?

Jr: Well generally when we interview someone, we want to have a popular hook that people can associate with. So we’re tagging you with Obama.

D: So it’s not just my winning personality?

Jr: No. Not at all.

D: Ha. OK. Well, I will have to sadly disappoint you by saying that I worked on only one part of a six-agency effort to get the guy elected. This is how pathetic my little slice of history is.

Jr: But it’s still very important!

D: Well yes. Having said that, it was still the greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life, the greatest thing I’ve ever been a part of, and the greatest change I’ve ever had a piece of. It’s the best thing I’ve done, according to Kantian ethics… Are you familiar with Kant?

Jr: You mean Emmanuel Kant (http://en NULL.wikipedia NULL.org/wiki/Kant), the 18th-century German philosopher from the Prussian city of Königsberg widely known as the last influential philosopher of modern Europe?

D: Yes, that guy. So, according to Kantian ethics, the best contribution to society I’ve ever made is getting this dude elected. My part of getting this dude elected was an ad campaign to get young people to get off their fucking ass and register to vote.

Jr: Because you knew that they’d vote Obama, right?

D: Totally. Our data said that 70 percent of the people aged 18 to 35 were going to vote for Obama. We had to make the idea of voting relevant to these people. We also knew that young people don’t believe that politics is a way of getting something done. Our insider challenge was to say, “If you show up and vote, it is a worthwhile way to accomplish the things that you already want of out life. The things that you want for the future.”

They don’t feel that voting actually accomplishes dick squat. They feel it’s been proven that it doesn’t. So the challenge was to register as many of them as possible.

Another problem we had was that the entire process is outdated nonsense. Every state has different laws. You need to buy a stamp, a postage stamp, to register to vote! You can’t do it online. It’s stupid. So we had to overcome all this shit. The bottom line was, ‘How do we make registering as relevant as possible and how do we register as many of them as possible?

Well, the easiest way to do it is through a website. Anyone who’s young knows how to use the web. All they care about is ‘Give me a fucking URL and I’ll take care of it.’ That became Voteforchange.com. (Editors note: Which is no longer online, sorry kiddies.)

Jr: And as little clicks as possible.

D: Yes, exactly. I’m sure someone else on the Obama campaign thought of that name as well, but my partner Peter Cortez and I came up with the name and they liked it. A guy named Scott Thomas (http://simplescott NULL.com/) was the information architect of the site. He was also the design director for Obama For America (http://www NULL.barackobama NULL.com/). He’s the one that took the Sol Sender (http://www NULL.youtube NULL.com/watch?v=etEP1Bhgui0) icon and cleaned up the type. He was responsible for most of the look of the Obama campaign. He’s the one that brought in Shepard Fairey (http://obeygiant NULL.com/).

Jr: Sounds like he’s the bro to know. So voteforchange.com…

D: Yeah, the tagline for the site was, “Everything you need to register and vote”. Most of the campaign was Peter and I working 18 hours a day in a room. It was a lot of BO, bad sushi, and favors from awesomely talented people. We sent out questionnaires from a Gmail address to everyone we knew. We didn’t tie it to the Obama campaign at all, a lot of the stuff we didn’t even tell our own bosses, because we knew if we told our bosses they would have to go get approval, and we didn’t have time for that, so we just did a lot of shit fly-by-night.

So we set up this Gmail account and sent out these petitions to everybody we knew. We wanted to know, “Why is it worthwhile for you to vote? What are you going to get out of it? What do you expect to happen?” We got back hundreds of responses from all over the country. We got a lot of people from other countries, but we couldn’t use their stuff. We took all the interesting responses, broke them down into probably seven or eight categories of why you would vote. We built these buckets and filled them with responses that were good. Then we reached out to a lot of poster artists. We had two artists that were instrumental in getting everybody else. On the West Coast it was Brian Flynn of Hybrid Design (http://www NULL.hybrid-design NULL.com/). On the East Coast it was Tristan Eaton of Thunderdog Studios (http://www NULL.thunderdogstudios NULL.com/).

posters

Jr: So these guys do music posters and stuff?

D: Yes. These are the guys who are big fucking dogs in their scene. Then it was all about our fantasy file. Who are all the designers you’ve always wanted to work with? We just emailed everyone, called everyone. And you know, it was just me and Peter in the office, the air conditioning shuts off at seven or eight, the funk kicks in, the smell of the old sushi boxes too, and you just go. You call all your East Coast peeps until it’s ten o’clock and it’s getting kind of late. Then you start calling West Coast peeps until about one. And you’re calling everybody and you’re briefing people constantly. We’d brief someone and say, ‘Health care: The issues are X, Y, and Z. Obama’s platform is 1, 2, and 3. Here’s three different headlines that should be able to work with the image you’re going to create. Show us your sketches.’

posters2

Jr: So was everything you got back good? Or did you have to refine some things?

D: Almost everything was good. There were a few people that we couldn’t use, not very many, I think at the end 18 artists did about 22 or 23 pieces that were published. All the artists worked for free, nobody got paid.

Jr: Nobody got paid?

D: Not a penny.

Jr: So how’d you do that?

D: We tried to get honorariums but we told them upfront that they had to be willing to do this for the love and the glory. We had exactly one guy tell us no because of the money.

Jr: Really?

D: Yeah, then he called us back and said yes. The only people who said no were people who were just physically overbooked. If people were already yelling at them for work and they were overbooked.

Jr: And then Obammy won!

D: Then he won! Success. Best thing I ever did.

(Editors note: If you wanna get something super cool, Scott Thomas has made a book filled with all the Obama design stuff, featuring Daniel’s posters and the voteforchange.com website. Buy it here (http://www NULL.kickstarter NULL.com/projects/simplescott/designing-obama).)

Jr: So, OK, we’ve been drinking now for how long? Let’s jump into the nitty gritty shit and see what happens. What’s your advice for juniors?

D: Well, if you’re a junior, all you’ve got to do is start working. Make good shit. Be a smart person. Be nice. And hopefully that’ll work out.

Jr: I know this. And a lot of others know this. But for a lot of people it’s about getting that first ‘foot in the door’ or whatever.

D: Have you played The Legend of Zelda? On Nintendo?

Jr: Umm…

D: You haven’t played fucking Zelda?

Jr: I’ve had a fiddle.

D: Ha. I should slap you.

(Turns to the person sitting next to him.)

D: Have you played the legend of Zelda?

Random 1: A little while ago.

Random 2: I have.

D: Then I only need to slap one of you.

Random 2: I remember the Nintendo cheat.

D: Oh Yeah?

Random 2 and D simultaneously: Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right. B. A. B. A. Select Start.

D: Yes!

Jr: Oh my god. You guys are total nerds. So what’s the importance of Zelda anyway?

Random 2: Yeah what’s the significance?

D: Well remember how in Zelda, when you wanted to get something accomplished, you had to go through these weird adventures that seemed like they had nothing to do with anything? If you wanted to beat some bad guy, you had to go find a leaf, give it to an old man, get a potion, take it to a lady, she’ll make you some arrows. Then you have to take the arrows to a dungeon, and shoot a guy with the arrows. Right?

Random 2: Yeah!

D: Well that’s what getting a job in advertising is like.

Jr: Hahahaha. Woah.

D: It’s exactly the same. Exactly the same! You’ve got to have teachers, they need to be smart, and they have to get you and like you. Then you’ve got to work fucking hard and you’ve got to be smart. If you don’t work hard and you’re not smart then you’re a piece of shit. But if you’re one of the smart hard working people, your teacher will recognize that and will introduce you to somebody. Then you start going on these little ‘go sees’, you know, while you’re trying to get a foot in the door. You meet these people and you say, “Hey, man, you work in advertising. I want to work in advertising. What do you think about X, Y, and Z? How does this work? You did blah blah blah, what was that like?” Cause you don’t know. I didn’t fucking know. I still don’t know most of this shit. So you ask all these questions and they answer you. And they feel smart for answering you. Once you’ve asked them enough questions and whatever, you say, “Is there anyone else I should talk to? Maybe at another agency?” And they say yes or no. Then you ask them if they can recommend some people. You know, say, “Do you know anybody at this place or that place?” And then they say, “Actually I do.” I did this in London. I got people to pick up their phone and make calls to people on their cell phone. Numbers you’ll never get. Once you meet that first smart connected person, and he or she likes you, they’ll make a couple of calls for you. Then you’ll meet a couple more people, and the next thing you know you’re meeting people, meeting people, meeting people. Then all of a sudden, somebody knows of a job. Or an internship. And if your work is good, and you’re a nice personable person, why not offer you a gig? Even if it’s an internship, which is how you prove to everybody in the building how smart and good you are.

Jr: Wow. Yes. You make yourself invaluable.

D: You have to be good though. You have to give a fuck, you have to work hard, and you need to be good. If you do that, then you’ll be fine, especially if you’re a social person.

Jr: That really is very good advice. You are such a nerd though.

D: Ha, yeah. But you know, when Zelda came out for Nintendo GameCube, while I was in school, everything else suffered.

Jr: It always does with video games.

D: My TV and my GameCube were going all hours of the day. It was either me or my roommate taking turns playing. So when one person was doing homework, going to school or taking a nap, the other person was playing.

Jr: It happens to the best of us.

D: It was good though. It was like a religious experience.

Jr: How long did you do this for?

D: I don’t know–too long. Then I became the student president. That was a bad idea. Don’t do that.

Jr: Ha, OK. That’s good advice. Do not become student president.

D: Do not become student president at Art Center, do not play video games, and do not have sex.

Jr: Hold on. Do not have sex?

D: Be chaste.

Jr: What? What’s the theory? Why?

D: You have bigger things to worry about than sex. Chastity is important…

Jr: Why? I don’t understand.

D: Because if you’re dealing with relationships, you’re not dealing with your work or your ideas, and your not dealing with your life. I do think there’s some connection between the creative and the procreative. That sex and creativity are linked. It’s the urge. There’s a common passion, a common energy. When you’re still developing one of them, you don’t want to drain it with the other one.

Jr: Actually that sounds like a pretty interesting point. What about masturbation?

D: It’s a good stress reliever.

Jr: Yes. It’s not procreation either.

D: It’s not procreation, there’s not another person there, and there’s no one else’s feelings to deal with. That’s the thing that sucks.

Jr: Yeah, don’t deal with feelings. They get in the way.

D: No, you should deal with feelings! You should be a sensitive person. But you should know that if you involve somebody else in that part of your life, especially if you’re a male and you’re dealing with a female, she’s going to have an opinion and feelings about your chosen activities. So your choice is to either be a dick, which is not good, or to deal with those, which is very time consuming.

Jr: Yes that’s a hard bargain. Be a dick, or give up your career/creative time to deal with your shit. So don’t get involved?

D: Don’t get involved. Work on your shit. Ride your bicycle. Don’t have sex. Work hard. Be nice. Pay attention. What else? That’s kinda it. Oh, and don’t buy dumb shit.

(And as usual we spoke for way too long and Daniel had way too much good shit to say. So hang in there for Part 2. It’s got everything to do with not buying dumb shit, knowing which companies are helping the world, and how you can retain your soul. Coming soooooooon.)

Also posted in ADVERTISING | Tags: ADVERTISING, COCKTAILS, COMMITMENT, CREATIVITY, DANIEL BREMMER, DRUNK, HIGH SCHOOL, HUNGER, INSPIRATION, JOB HUNTING, NEW YORK, OBAMA, PETER CORTEZ, SCOTT THOMAS, SEX, SS+K, ZELDA

home //
wtf? //

drinks //
interviews // whips // dear-junior //

Aug 05, 10

The Interview Series // 33

Jun 11, 10

The Interview Series // 32

Apr 21, 10

The Interview Series // 31

Apr 07, 10

The Interview Series // 30

Jan 20, 10

The Interview Series // 28

Jan 13, 10

The Interview Series // 27

Dec 16, 09

The Interview Series // 26

Nov 20, 09

The Interview Series // 25

Nov 11, 09

The Interview Series // 24

Oct 22, 09

Interview Series // 23 (Part One)

Join the Mailing List

Categories

Archive