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Thank VCU

Today, I spoke to the graduate students at VCU Adcenter about what we at Green Team are doing, and where we hope to collectively go. Now I’ve given this spiel before at FIT, the One Club and AIGA. But today I tried something different. Rather than opening as the “I knew about sustainability before you so stick your head in compost doodoo” eco-friendly communication expert, I opened as the schmuck from Fort Lauderdale who stumbled into this whole thing by accident. And it felt damn good.

It was a nice reminder, even for myself, of where I came from and how far I have to go. Sure I’ve achieved some great things and traveled to some great places. (Six years ago I had yet to live alone, yet to vote, yet to leave the country, and most importantly, yet to produce an ad.) But being around the energy of the students and their campus here at VCU reminded me of why I got into this whole thing in the first place–to create. So as nice as it is traveling and speaking about what I’ve been doing, it’s time to cut back on the speaking and really up the doing.  (That is unless you’re an agency big wig who’s running a school or a creative institution, then I’m more than available.)

I want to give a special thanks to Karen for inviting me, and to David Byrd for picking me up from the airport and showing me around his school and city. He might think I was there to inspire him, but it was actually quite the opposite. David and his friends Beth, Brian and yet another David inspired me. A short evening with: two designers, a painter, a journalist, supposedly bad pasta salad and even worse karaoke were exactly what the “I don’t know, I’m just not feeling into it what I’ve been doing lately” doctor ordered.

Click the thumbnail to view the opening slide of my presentation.

I Feel Bad-vertising

I once watched a movie where a little boy asked his uncle what he does for a living. “Uncle ad writer” responded, “I make people feel bad. I create a sensation that there’s something missing in their lives. Then I convince them how buying my client’s product will fill the void and make them feel better.”

I find a lot of truth in that statement. I work for environmentally and socially responsible clients, but I still make people feel like “something” is missing. Like something is wrong. Only difference is my something is usually an “eco-something". Or “something sustainable” if you [GOOD and PLENTY Magazine subscribers] will. My “something” is not only supposed to make the consumer feel better, it’s supposed to better the world.

No matter how true that statement might be, I hope the way I communicate it never comes across as obnoxious as the two ads I saw this morning did. (click the thumbnail to enlarge) The side-by-side placement was a coincidence. But the sentiments were not. Both products tried to make me feel like something was wrong in my life, and that their products were the solution.

Carbon offsets, stem cell research, and Netflix are solutions. Convertible insects and sugar-flavored water, however, are not.

The Move Part 2: Apartment Shotgun

Last week I called Colin (a friend from work who's a 2 year resident of Carroll Gardens) to ask him a little bit about his neighborhood. I told him I was thinking of moving there, but I didn't know the first thing about Brooklyn, so I was curious: Is it expensive? What trains stop there? Should I rip holes in my plaid shirt and buy Chuck Ts? (Forgive my ignorance. I thought all of Brooklyn was Bedford Ave.)

Before answering my questions he responded, "Cool. I'm actually looking for a new apartment too." He's staying in Carroll Gardens, but looking to trade up. Where most people would have taken that as "good for him" news, I took it as ground staking. I took it as competition.

I was reminded of senior year in high school, when my friend Fernando would fart, just to distract me a split second before reaching the car. Then he'd yell "SHOTGUN!" I got nausea and he got the front seat. Colin served 2 years in Carroll Gardens and has earned apartment dibs. Unlike Fernando before him, he really does deserve shotgun. "This is my neighborhood and I saw the 1br. floor through with private garden first" kind of shotgun.

With "Advantage–Colin" on the scoreboard, I was not only desperately looking for an apartment, I was desperately looking for a way to "one-up" him. I remembered hearing about an RSS reader, a computer application where after you input multiple searches, it automatically checks them all for you. So while Colin and the other fools were repeatedly typing the same apartment searches on Craigslist, NY Times and the Village Voice (you have to retype these searches every 20 minutes on each different web site in order to see what's new), I was watching my computer do it for me. No matter how well he knows the neighborhood, I now kinda know it, or at least who's leaving it and what their apartment is going for– better.

"Advantage–Brian"

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I've since told Colin about the software. Watching him juggle the three web site search was more painful than watching him steal my apartment. In the spirit of good competition, may the best homeless man win.

Open Season on My Business Cards

So I have this idea that I wanted to share with the 4 of you. (I can't wait until I can say with the community.) I'm about ready to tell my friends, colleagues and students I meet at speaking engagements about my blog. I whole heartedly believe that if i keep it up, and give mostly students and maybe even professionals an insight into working and living in the city, that this thing can resonate.

The first step is making "blogness cards" (I'm so desperately trying to coin a web 2.0 phrase it's pathetic) to hand out to my potential audience. But the last thing I can do is spend money on them. So I thought like Koby, Tiger and Alex B. before me (did you see that cheesy Yahoo ad he made?), I'd get sponsored. I'd like to take this business card concept (click the thumbnail) to printer and paper supplier friends of mine and see if by patting them on the back, I'd be able to cheaply promote myself on the front. Let me know if you guys have any thoughts or opinions about the card.

The copy on the back is strictly for placement. To learn more about my potential sponsors, visit mohawk.com and pictorialoffset.com.

The Move Part 1: F**k the Faux-lease

Each year, the monthly rent for my West Village, 2nd floor, separate kitchen, one minute to Magnolia Bakery, one block to the train apartment increases (use your Dr. Evil voice) one–hundred–dollars. Being a "routine-ist" as one friend puts it, I grew accustomed and in fact took comfort in the moderate, yet consistent increase. It was a reminder that as long as I pay my rent on time, make a little bit more money each year and don't piss off one of my neighbors, I could basically stay in this apartment forever.

But no matter how routine this becomes, when the Manila "lease renewal" envelope arrives, I still get the shits. Because just like the California rolls on the all-you-can-eat buffet line, some thing's always a bit off. So in hopes of easing the pain, I had my girlfriend open it for me.

My landlord is raising my rent (this time use your shocked Jack Tripper voice) eleven-hundred-dollars-per-month?!?!?

So after 3 years as a reliable tenant, it's like that, huh? A broker friend of mine said the market value for my apartment is now about $2500 per month, I currently pay $1900. So they offered me a ridiculous, impossible to stomach lease increase, which no sane "current" tenant would pay, forcing me out on the street (OK, maybe I'm exaggerating, but still...) F**k Manhattan. F**k this neighborhood. F**k this building. F**k Magnolia's cupcakes. (OK, not the cupcakes.)

Ever heard the saying, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it?" Well, it got to me first. I'm moving to Brooklyn.

Norm

Drinking year after year, and beer after beer at the same end of the bar, it's only fitting that Cliffy's best friend Norm be named after, well, "the norm".

November will mark my third year in the same West Village, NYC apartment. Like most New Yorkers happy in their hood (who am I kidding, I can't pull off hood), I too routinely patronize the same local establishments. I've been getting my shirts from the same cleaner, my 3 dollar umbrellas from the same deli and my omelet from the same diner for years now. So much so, that before I can even step foot in the door, the host asks "egg-white-omelet, no potatoes no toast, and an unsweetened iced tea to go?" His tone has a hint of a doubt (as not to completely embarrass me), but we both know he knows the answer. Having a complete stranger memorize and recite your order is uncomfortable enough. But not knowing his name, when he clearly knows yours and your habits like only your mother could, is straight up embarrassing.

I blame this situation (at least for someone with a mild case of "The Larry Davids" it's a situation), on no-minimum-purchase-based bank cards. It used to be that under these same circumstances, with cash as the only means of transacting, neither parties knew more than one another's schedule, or routine if you will. But now that we hand these personalized, name-engraved cards to the "strangers with our diapers, deli-meats and candy", suddenly they have the upper hand, as well as our first, and often embarrassing middle names. So while the receipt machine makes that obnoxious sound, and he so politely asks, "Hey Brian, how's everything?", there's only one thing I'm left with to say, and have been saying for years, "Very good buddy, and you man?"

How after 3 years of this do I ever tell my dear old "host friend" that I don't know the first, middle or last thing about him?

I Want to Work With Linzy. Not Lohan.

It's been said that all great designers and art directors are influenced by and borrow from art. In his recently published book
Juicing the Orange, Pat Fallon tells the story of an art director who waited his entire career, after seeing an underwater video installation of swimming elephants, to find the right client to use said footage for.

Last week I visited P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center, looking for that same kind of inspiration. Except for a TV dinner, Stefan-esque type treatments and a moving heap of man made shit, nothing really resonated. Until I stumbled upon my first Kalup Linzy video, entitled Lollypop (2006). I hate overanalyzing art, so I won't. But i will unselfishly offer up links to his work. I'm not sure if this work will ever wind up influencing my book, but finding links to it on YouTube, it's bound to influence someone's. May the best art director win...

Work by Linzy:
Lollypop (2006)
Play Wit De Churen (2005)

My Boss-u-mentary

I've been collaborating with a best friend of mine for about 8 years now. We spent our first 2 years in South Florida as students, producing art shows (he called them experiments) trying to change our school and every student and teacher in it. We spent our last 6 years in NYC as professionals, producing campaigns on sustainability, trying to change our world, or at least the minds of everyone living in and affecting it. (Before you think I'm bragging or coming off cocky, with only 3 people reading and 1 person commenting on my blog, we've obviously got a ways to go.)

While working together, we've been lucky enough to travel the globe on photo shoots and "fam trips". We've been to Scotland, the Caribbean, Mexico, and most recently Dominica, all on our clients' poor exchange rate dimes. We've had our work published in National Magazines and hung in Times Square. And f***k, we've even met and collaborated with the likes of photographer Sebastião Salgado and Harrison Ford.

It was during one of our many "remember back when we..." sessions that my friend and boss said we should document and record what we're doing. That in a few years we would love to look back on, and share our mistakes and achievements. That we might just possibly be making history. Not necessarily "lay down in front of a tank, world-altering history," but at least "I think I saw that on YouTube kinda' history." Now this wasn't the first time he had said this. And it wasn't the first time I agreed that I loved the idea–the idea in theory that is. But I never actually took him seriously.

Until about 2 weeks ago, when he showed up to work with his video camera, and a claim that he just ordered 100 DV tapes, declaring in so many words, "This is the day our documentary begins." When I asked him who was going to film it, he basically said he would film some and he would hire an outsider to film most of it. But either way he would have control over the edit.

This has raised a bunch of questions in my mind that I could really use help in answering. (1) Can one person decide he/she is going to document the lives and work of others without their consent? (2) Can it truly be called a documentary about a group if one of the stars has control over the edit? (3) Will any of us remain friends after all is said, recorded, editing and screened? (Number 3 I have to admit, along with what picture of me will be painted, is what worries me most. Will I come off as the agency's foundation or the agency toolbox?)

I praised Startup.com, religiously watched The House of Boateng, and ironically enough am watching "Long Way Around" as I am writing this. I love these kinds of documentaries about creative people trying to achieve what appears to be the impossible. I just wonder how much I'll enjoy and believe in them after going through the process myself.

One last question. Am I in a way creating a self-directed, self-edited, zero-consent "documentary" about the same group myself by publishing this story without their permission?

Tip #1: Bookmark. Bookjim. Bookjody.

You might say that undiscovered, talented photographers and illustrators are to Art Directors, what high-school, "I scored the winning touchdown" football stories are to Al Bundy–they keep the latter young and relevant.

Establishing a network of creative resources is key to doing good work. But what if you don't have the luxury of working with an art buyer? With all the options out there, not to mention their reps' tear sheets, cold calls and gallery/museum openings, it can be overwhelming to keep track of them all. And without fail, the second your project calls for a one-handed finger painter to program your web site, you will forget which one of your friends dated her– ultimately losing all access to her many talents.

It is for this very reason I bring you Tip #1:
Create a "virtual network" using Safari (or Fire-fox's) Bookmark's menu bar, thereby bookmarking, organizing and keeping track of all the creative disciplines you work with, or wish to work with in the future. It's the poor man's version of CP+B's art buyer. For starters, I recommend the following categories:

1) Designers
2) Photographers
3) Illustrators
4) Production Companies
5) Programmers

Click here for a closer look.

Please comment with any helpful advice, tips or shortcuts. It's my hope to create a database of experience for us all to pull from. On that note, anyone know the keyboard shortcut for "transform" in Corel Draw? The more you know, right?

Brian, You About to Be Broke-Up

I met my girlfriend at work. We secretly dated (or at least we thought it was a secret) for about 3 months while working next to one another, until 4 weeks ago, when she decided to leave our advertising-like-agency in search of a design-like-studio. As great as it was having a shared secret and a shared love for our work, I must say its been nice for the both of us to finally have separated our personal and our professional lives. Besides the occasional gossip about my current, her former coworkers, the two sides of our lives have rarely crossed paths. Until last Friday.

A little context: A few weeks ago, on one of my typicality runs (typicality will be defined in an entry to come), a Max Rack postcard caught my attention. It was the only text-heavy card amongst the bunch. The headline read, "Dear ____, I'm breaking up with you because you..." The line was followed by a list of items, such as "fart loudly", "wear socks and sandals at the same time", and "high-five after everything". The dumper was supposed to check off their partner's short-comings, than fill in the "Have a nice life, signed _______" blank.

The post card was promoting a new show on Oh! called Breaking Up with Shannen Doherty."

I love this type of customizable, interactive advertising. (I know a few too many industry "don't say industry" buzz words. Hey, at least I left out strategic.) I thought dropping this card in my bag, bringing it to work and complaining "f**k I wish we thought of this idea" to my fellow creatives would be the last I'd ever see of this card. Until Friday night, when my girlfriend, you remember, the one who doesn't like advertising, handed one to me (checkboxes checked and all).

I'll admit it. I'll man up. The filled-in post card confirmed all of my insecurities. (I knew I called them "ta-tas", but the tank tops?) It also confirmed that work which doesn't force its advertiser's message down your throat, but rather invites you to interact and adapt its message to your lives, truly does break through. Click the thumbnail to see what I mean.

Cause for Awards

An art director's portfolio, loosely resembling an issue of "Luerzer's Archive Magazine" recently made its way into our agency. You know the type of book I'm referring to? Filled with "how'd they sell that concept?" type of concepts. Double page spreads. Full-bleed images. Short headlines (translations and body copy sold-separately). Nano-sized, bottom-right-hand-corner-logos. And all the creative freedom in the world. So much so, they are even choosing which clients they work for. But there's a catch.

According to the portfolio's owner, all of this takes place after 5pm. See from 9-5, the agency's management team has the creatives work for paying clients– clients with real world marketing problems and real world requests. Requests such as "can you make the headline more telegraphic, the copy longer, the logo bigger and the picture, well do we really need a picture?" (Needless to say none of that work made it in her book). But after 5pm, the creatives are told to shift focus and to concept on fake client briefs, for clients who in reality, aren't even clients. The agency picks random, non-profit causes to create ads for with one goal in mind, enter the work in the Cannes Advertising Festival and win.

As an art director, I'm the first one to endorse award shows. I'd much rather be writing an acceptance speech than writing this article. Maybe my mom is partially to blame. I grew up with her hanging my work, who am I kidding calling it work, my kiln-burned, rainbow-colored magnetic bull-shit all over the refrigerator. "Mom's kitchen" fed our family and my ego for almost 22 years. And living on my own, like many of my young creative cohorts, I'm in constant search of that same attention and recognition.

But agency led, award quota mandates are spreading the wrong message, as well as negative, self-absorbed energy throughout our communications community. How can our hearts be in the right place if we are only working for these causes to win awards? Do we even care about the issues we are so cleverly communicating? Do we even understand them? How many of us have ever met the people behind these causes (the marketing directors, the scientists, the researchers and grass root supporters) who we claim to be helping? How many of us, rather than bring impossible to produce, off-strategy creative to the Cannes jury table, have actually listened to a local non-profit's problems and brought viable creative solutions to their table?