Raising UP the Standard

Cartoons are far from kid stuff. And as the box office would prove, there's apparently no end to what the x-celluloid (now complex computer-generated) characters can do. Disney still reigns as the original pioneer (in my humble opinion,) but Pixar has planted life in its productions. Their most recent offering, UP, is no exception.

The artist in me would love to talk about the technology behind UP's beautiful imagery, cleverly rendered cast members, realistic depth of field (that makes you almost believe the environment is real,) and vibrant portrayal on screen... but there's a greater subject to consider; that of "story." Ah yes, that long forgotten concept of plot, dialogue, and connection with the audience. Pixar's technology and creativity is unparalleled, but they have exercised their knowledge and grasp of the human condition to tell a tale that would make the hardest heart shed a tear (and all of this over a cartoon!)

I won't ruin it for those wanting to see the animated marvel, but the Pixar team under the supervision of Director/Screenwriter Pete Doctor (who also worked on A Bug's Life, Toy Story 2, and Monster's Inc.) has taken emotion, story, cinematography, technology, business sense, and innovation, and blended the ingredients into a cocktail that, while it may not be Gone With the Wind, will have an intoxicating impact on the film industry and the individuals who sit in the theater being bathed by the brilliance that is UP. It's an optimistic tale that doesn't skip over the pains we experience in real-life, and that's what makes Pixar's approach worth the time to see their films. Silly as it may seem, somehow a cartoon has left this grown man feeling very UP.

Resting on the brand.

I've probably said "A brand is not a picture... it's a promise..." a few hundred times in presentations and capability briefings, all in an effort to break the stigma that a logo is not, in itself, a brand.

Well, for those wanting to rest a brand promise (literally and figuratively,) and actually experience an organization making good on it promise -- I invite you to visit a Weston Hotel near you (book your stay at www.starwoodhotels.com.) The Weston is a recent winner of the 2009 Traveler's Choice Award, and when you visit, you'll understand why.

I recently stayed at the Weston Boston Waterfront and it was among the finest hotels I've ever stayed (U.S. or European.) From check-in -- where the Weston has done away with the high counters that have served as a wall of separation between hotel staff and guests, to the sleek, comfy, and modern lobbies that -- despite their huge expanse -- feel like an old friend's study, beautiful but lived in. One of their slogans is "every touch works together." At the Weston, it does indeed. And, the greatest physical distinction I found -- a bed with pillows that feel like clouds -- no kidding.

Weston's corporate web site says, "(The Westin is) a haven of serenity and a distinctive alternative for those who appreciate a higher standard." I've stayed in near a dozen hotels since that trip, and none has compared. The aesthetics are notably high, but the service is equally impressive. Oh, that this was the standard instead of the exception in hospitality, the world would no doubt be a kinder place.

Sadly, you can't package good "brand execution," but if you want to take a little bit of your experience home with you, the Starwood Group sells their beds and linens online. Don't believe me? Just ask me why I'm sleeping a little better these days... It's refreshing to rest on a reliable brand.

"Eating with our Eyes" or "What's in a Name?".

Although I'm unsure who said "presentation is everything," it was celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck who grew famous telling us that we "eat with our eyes." As a guy who has spent a career dabbling in the aesthetic, I agree whole heartedly... but how about a little anthropological data to support what I (think) I've always known?

Food TV personality Ted Allen hosts a show called Food Detectives, where food myths are debunked or validated, and all things culinary are considered. I saw a segment this week where 2 test groups where set at different times to give reviews of a particular meal. The first meal was prepared and served in a simple dining area with standard overhead lighting, no table cloths, no table accouterments,  and no embellishing the food's presentation. The second seating spent more time on the environment -- lowing the lights and placing candles on the table, and dressing up the meal presentation itself. 

But here's the other side of this experiment... each seating included a menu for those dining. Menu one simple said it how it was -- fish was labeled "baked fish," green beans were listed as such, and the wine was labeled "New Jersey Red," which was served in plastic cups. Yum. In round two, the "baked fish" had become Panko crusted St. John's filet, green beans were listed as Haricot verts (pronounced hair-co-vere,) and the Jersey hooch was relabeled as Napa Valley Cabernet.

Remember, both meals were identical. After each group had dined, they were surveyed. On a scale of 1 - 10, the results averaged as follows: Group 1 = 3/10, while group 2 = 8/10. Additionally, each group asked what they would expect to pay for a meal like the one they had just received. The staggering results... group 1 averaged a price tag of $10 per person for the less impressive dinner, while group 2 was happy to fork over $38 per person.

There's certainly a lesson in aesthetics here, but the amazing expectation that proper "naming" sets is well worth considering. Perhaps it's the difference between saying "enjoy your meal," and "bon apetito!"

Don't write like a band... write like a piana'

"You don’t write like a band... you write like a piana’. We were a big piana’." -- Eddy Byrne speaking on his playing with Thelonious Monk.

Simplicity is an art seldom perfected. Einstein is noted as saying, "Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." That is, well... simply brilliant. I just purchased the documentary Helvetica (trailer can be seen HERE) and it supports what I've been feeling recently (I thought it was old age creeping in)... what's passing for communication these days is often just clutter. Cool and whiz-bang is ok -- and even invited around ADG... but concept and messaging needs to be clear, and alas, simple.

I heard a great NPR segment recently called Monk At Town Hall celebrating 5 decades of the genius that was Thelonious Monk. During the radio cast, trombonist Eddy Byrne spoke of playing with the great pianist as well jazz heroes like bassist Charles Mingus, and Miles Davis -- whose legendary trumpet skill is, even today, some of the finest ever recorded. Despite the monumental talent of each individual contributor, Burke and the collective strove to sound as one voice. "A big piana'" as he so eloquently put it. Complexity well formulated and thought out is simplicity at its finest.

Try this: black coffee, big chair, dim lights, and Blue Monk (one of his best offerings, available here at Amazon.) Life is undoubtedly complex. Here's an opportunity to simplify, if only for the 10 minutes and 13 seconds that the legendary pianist tickles the ivories on my favorite tune by the master.

A Look Inside

One of our esteemed creatives, Evan Davis, Director of Strategy is fond of saying that "Everybody likes sausage... but nobody wants to see how it's made." I find it hard to disagree, but none-the-less, here's a sneak peek into the meat grinder that is ADG. And yes, that's a real cow brain... Enjoy (if you dare.)

Filtering Through the Noise.

I had an opportunity to hang out in a music store for a few hours this weekend while shopping for new audio gear to fuel ADG's expanding production facility. The retail venue is huge, and sells everything from guitars (hundreds of them) to stage lighting and fog machines. For some reason, the sea of musical instruments and amplifiers (big, loud amplifiers) are like a pied piper for unskilled 15 year old musicians, and I use the term "musician" loosely. Not only were these pre-pubescent rock-n-rollers far from capable of pulling off their favorite Metallica song, but they seem to believe -- like so many of us when speaking to someone who doesn't speak English -- that being louder somehow bridges the gap. No surprise, it does not.

All of this to say that in the midst of the audio-rich experience, I worked with an associate manager named Chris who was very knowledgeable, helpful, and glad to advise me on my purchases. As a show of empathy, I said "man, I don't know how you deal with all this noise all day long." His response surprised me.

St. Chris (as I now think of him) said "it's the sound of business being done." Sweet and simple... "this is why we're here." His reply cut me to the quick -- I work in a service industry... I should have seen this right away. But now I'm thinking (and blogging) about this. Everyone has things in their job that cause them to want to scream and pull their hair out -- but often, the things that irritate us the most boil down to just being the cost of doing business. These things distract us from the very reasons we get into the fields that we're in to begin with. I love customer service. I love overcoming difficult challenges. I love pulling things off that many other firms cannot. But sometimes I forget that's why we're here. Remembering just requires a little "filtering through the noise."

Smoke On The Water...

OK, there's no shortage of opinions about the recent events surrounding Michael Phelps and his illegal drug usage. Is it fair? Was he careless? Are the rulings from USA Swimming just? My perspective on the matter will add no additional value or clarity -- but I would like to comment on the forgotten victims in this ordeal; his sponsors.

Who hasn't purchased something, only to get it home and find out that the picture on the box didn't represent the product within? And when this happens we're ticked, right? Without any attack on the amphibious athlete's character whatsoever, the packaging simply no longer resembles what corporate America purchased. High cost endorsements are, perhaps, a blog for another time... but celebrity beware: as Yoda once said, "...with much power comes much responsibility."

Once you sign on the multi-million dollar dotted line, you are no longer person -- but product. Mr. Phelps, you've been found defective, and have been returned. We'll wait to see if you end up on the bargain table.