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ROAD BLOCK
There's nothing terribly exciting for me to report, despite my absence from here. I've been rather pre-occupied over the past couple of weeks and had my hands full so whilst the motivation to blog might have been there, I had neither the time nor the material to do so. Personally, I've found the period since my last entry somewhat introspective. It was quite an effort to settle down to my normal routine after my last two trips - I think the Falklands gig, and a three week sojourn to the U.S followed immediately by a return to the isolation of working from home highlighted the dichotomy nicely for me. Working from home sucks. Actually, I should qualify that. The freedom is great; the freedom to set one's own work pattern, shedule things when they suit, take time off when they don't. The flexibility is wonderful. Plus there's the fact that there are no politics to contend with, nobody to cramp your style or interrupt when the pressure is on and a deadline looms. But there's the rub. The other side of the coin is the isolation, the frustration of there being no clear demarcation between home/work - I get up, walk downstairs and I'm in the office. It's there all the time and I never quite feel like I've left for the day, even when I'm sat watching TV of an evening. Then there's the real killer - the isolation. I'm a social animal, gregarious, outgoing. I thrive off contact with others, I'm happiest when I'm in company. And when a month of working from home looms and my assignments are all a way off on the horizon, it can start to grate. In all honesty, I should have foreseen this, but when I was up to my eyes in office politics and struggling with the daily commute into central London, the alternative - this - seemed like nirvana. The grass is always greener, eh? Don't get me wrong; there are worse things. I guess I need a bit more balance, some time management to ensure that I'm never home-working for more than two or three days at a stretch. Schedule some meetings, lunches, launches or whatever in between to break up the monotony and get me out into society again.
I might be a writer/photographer by profession, but working from home has meant I've had to become so much more. I could write all day and take pictures all night but in isolation, those talents are worthless - I need to market myself, invoice for work and make sure I receive payment. In essence therefore, depending on the chronology of an average month; I'm also a sales executive; a credit controller; book keeper; I.T. Manager; marketing manager - in fact, any of a hundred different occupations. The simple fact is, there's nobody to delegate to, nobody else to ask - when something goes wrong with the network for example, I have to rely on myelf to troubleshoot and work out a solution. It got so that friends relied upon me to sort out their machines whenever they had a problem. And then, earlier this year came the companies. So I've been doing a few odd days of consultancy work for local businesses of late - setting up networks, maintaining work stations, troubleshooting. It's been great because as well as getting paid for something I have to do for myself almost every day, I've been working in offices again. There are fellas to joke with and even the odd girl to flirt with by the photocopier. Delightful! In terms of the day job, things are looking rosier than they have for a while too. I had lunch in Soho last week with the editor of a news agency who's offered me a regular commission. I phoned her on spec, we talked, swapped emails - and last week's lunch was the result. I've also been busy making arrangements for another big assignment - one involving trains, planes and automobiles and a trip at sea - which is earmarked for a couple of weeks hence. That's one I am looking forward to. I've just finished reading the most fantastic book - Kate Fox's 'Watching the English" Fox is a well-known anthropologist and shines her light upon a subject close to home - the hidden rules of English behaviour. The opening paragraph sets the tone: "I am sitting in a pub near Paddington station, clutching a small brandy. It's only about half past eleven in the morning - a bit early for drinking, but the alcohol is part reward, part Dutch courage. (...) I am now about to return to the train station and spend a few hours committing a deadly sin: queue jumping." She doesn't stop there, either; she bumps into people on purpose to see whether or not they'll apologise (they invariably do) and the end result is a brilliantly conceived and execute work, which draws you in from the off. The book's chapters cover various aspects of 'Englishness' including mobile phone use, pub etiquette, dress codes, food rules, rules of sex, driving and many other topics. In essence, she concludes that we're a buttoned-up race who use displacement activities to enable us to engage with others. It's humorously written but the style masks what is ultimately a scholarly read. I found it fascinating. It's my wife's birthday tomorrow, so I've much to do for that. Then it's my girlfriend P's birthday the day after, so a rather busy start to the week for me. I seem to recall a blog hiatus on my part around this time last year but I hate to be predictable so I best get my finger out to make sure it doesn't happen again. Normal service is hereby resumed. |
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9.5.05 10:11 |
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SURE THING, STUNT CITY
I've long been a fan of the advertising medium, whether it be televisual, cinematic, print or radio. It takes a certain talent to rise above the dross that represents the aural or visual white noise between the programmes or tracks we seek and produce an ad which truly captures the imagination. It's never been an easy task, but in these days of Sky +, TV on demand and the internet, it's an uphill struggle for creatives to deliver what their clients want - chances are that if you've got control of the remote, you fast forward through the adverts. So, that £2.8m that the client paid to ITV or Channel 4 for the airtime slot was money well spent, then. Given the difficulty of reaching the target audience with the message the client wants to deliver, you'd be forgiven for thinking that ad revenues were in decline. After all, if nobody is going to watch, what's the point of spending hundreds of thousands of pounds - millions even - on a campaign that isn't going to be effective? The answer is, you try harder and work cleverer. Engage the right actors or actresses; spend the sort of money on production of a 60 second commercial that independent movie makers can only dream of spending on a full-length feature. Secure the services of some of the movie world's greatest directing talent - and ally the whole to a top team of creatives. Then, you might deliver something memorable. But don't hold your breath. When it works - when everything comes together properly - the result is an ad that defines the culture at the time it airs, a sort of visual zeitgeist. The slick, humorous, well shot ones represent some directors' best work, with multi-million pound budgets, brilliant scripts, a host of stars and some of the best locations to showcase the products. The good ones have the power to send a song to the top of the charts, revive a flagging pop career (look at the success of Goldfrapp's 'Loveley Head' after One2One used it in their campaign a couple of years ago), propel a director from the small screen to the film word and act as a barometer of social likes and dislikes. Like time machines, the memorable ones of yesteryear take you straight back to childhood, adolescence or last year. They define a time.
Every now and then though, an advert comes along that bucks the trend, something truly stunning that captures the attention from the off. The latest TV ad to do this comes from Lever Faberge and promotes, of all things Sure for Men - a deodrant. Don't sniff (sorry!) - Britons are among the world’s biggest users of deodorants, spending a staggering £400m a year on underarm roll-ons and sprays. What's so refreshing (That's enough! - Ed) about this one is the focus of the creatives in moving in a new direction. It would have been so easy to have fallen back on the lame old excuse of almost every ad agency in the business when pitching an idea for the lucrative mens' toiletries sector - lots of sexy, scantily clad women who all find men alluring and desirable simply because they happen to use a particular shower gel. How nice to find something a little different. This is one of those commercials where the connection with the product is virtually irrelevant to its success because it works so well as a piece of film that most viewers will confer goodwill on the advertised product out of gratitude for such splendid entertainment. The way it has been put together is so captivating that the wait to discover what product or service is being advertised is like the wait for the punch line in a very enjoyable joke - it doesn't matter whether it is funny or not because the journey is so enjoyable.
Some films are pretty easy to convert from the creatives' original conception. Others though, require a great deal of creative input during their production. This ad is very much in the latter category and whatever was pictured by the team who came up with the idea appears to have been more than matched by the final film. The ability of everyone involved in the making of this commercial was key to its success. There are countless instances when the reverse is true - where the original idea has been more or less betrayed by the director's treatment of it but, this ad defines what effective use of the medium is about. You can download the advert and see for yourself - it's just 3.6Mb in size and in .wmv format. Right click on the image below and 'Save Target As...' to save to your hard drive. It's on a fast server, so should download in under 60 seconds via a 512Kbps broadband connection. If you watch it, do let me know what you think - I'd be interested to hear other people's opinions.
There are countless examples of memorable advertising in recent months - think of Virgin Mobile's recent campaign featuring contemporary artists from the world of hip hop and rap in embarrassing situations - like a certain rap star caught 'sniffing' his friend's dead grandmother's knickers. The whole campaign was brilliantly effective, communicating the message 'Our text bundles are cheap, so who cares if no one's talking to you for a while' in a highly amusing manner. Their 'Idle Thumbs' campaign was also memorable for all the right reasons - it's not easy delivering a wry, funny ad and communicating a message with just 30 seconds in which to do so. Regular readers of my blog will know of my interest in this medium and my ever growing collection of TV and cinema ads which, along with several hundred music videos have required a dedicated hard drive for storage. Trouble is, my broadband connection which has been at 512k for the past three years is getting upgraded tomorrow to a 1MB/s connection - for the same price every month (£23.99 inclusive, no limits) so I suspect my already conspicuous downloading habit is about to go nuclear. What are your own favourite examples of TV advertising? |
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11.5.05 10:45 |
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PERFECT
I'm rather happy today, not least because of the events of this weekend (of which more in a minute), a planned night out tomorrow with my mate Ian and two upcoming assignments next week which I'm really looking forward to. As if that's not enough, my broadband regrade took place as planned last week; instead of paying £23.99 for a 512kbps uncapped service, I'm now paying the same for a 1024kbps uncapped service - with the same provider! Who says you don't get something for nothing? What's really impressed me though is the downstream speeds I'm actually getting. I've run speed tests every day since the upgrade and I'm consistently getting download speeds of 1846kbps! Those speeds are closer to expectations for a 2MB service. I pity anybody sharing my contention ratio too, if my download habits of the past few days are anything to go by! Anyway, the weekend. And things I now know following Friday night's Blinks at the John Snow in Soho:
Other things I learned are that whenever a group of English bloggers get together in a pub, there will initially be quite a few pregnant pauses and gaps in conversation until all participants are well lubricated with alcohol - at which point all awkwardness is dispensed with and the group as a whole does a good impression of a best friends reunion. Drinking G & Ts all night means no hangover on Saturday morning. Oh, and if you need to visit the bathroom from the Snug bar at The John Snow, it assists if you are an accomplished contortionist (either that or you're gonna have to walk outside). It was great to meet everyone and I look forward to the next one. Hope you all made it home without mishap. In other news, I had quite the most fantastic weekend. Had a girlfriend over for dinner on saturday night (but that was okay, because my wife was there too) and yesterday defined what sundays are all about. Awoke to sunshine streaming through the windows, and took a slow walk to the shops to pick up the sunday papers. When I returned home, it was to the smell of frying bacon and eggs and freshly squeezed oranges . Sat and read for a couple of hours and then rang mate Nick to see if he was free. Yep, wife Eva was in Spain, he was home alone and at a loose end. The sun was shining - time to head off. So P and I picked up Nick and together, drove into deepest Hertfordshire. Through leafy avenues and twisty country roads lined with trees through which the sun shone. Past countless charming villages to one of the nicest pubs in England, the Plume of Feathers in Tewin. It was, predictably, busy - but not uncomfortably so, and there was plenty of room in the garden.
Nick smirks as he realises its my round: Smug, in the garden at the Plume of Feathers in Tewin There are few things nicer than an afternoon at a good pub with friends and no better exponent of this than where we were yesterday. The Plume of Feathers was built in 1596 and oozes charm and character from every brick and gable. Sat there in the garden drinking a perfect pint of Greene King IPA, looking out over the rolling hills, country lanes and farms that are the landscape of our green and pleasant land, I felt utterly at ease.
A Bridge too Far: Nick and I struggle to stand still as the prospect of cold beer at the Old Barge (behind us) lures us inexorably towards the river. We'd planned on eating but having arrived at just gone 15:00, just missed lunch. So we sat and talked, catching rays and watching little fluffy clouds drift across a perfect sky. Watched kids play, laughed, and listened to the laughter and passion of everyone else in the garden. Who says the English are introverted and private? We engaged with one another, with strangers and with our surroundings. Just lovely.
Keep Your Head: Perfect accessories for sitting by the river From there, we drove to Hertford in search of food. Spoilt for choice really, but we couldn't eat without stopping at another charming pub, the Old Barge on Folly Island. This is a charming old pub and sits right alongside the River Lea. They serve a fantastic range of beers including Black Sheep, Bombardier and London Pride, so we orderded and walked outside to sit on the banks of the Lea, our feet out over the water. How nice to just sit there in the peace and tranquility, soaking up the sun, watching the world go by. And knowing that, even with all the splendour that yesterday offered, being mid-May, we still have the whole summer stretching out in front of us with all that summer London promises.
Still Waters Run Deep: What more could you ask for? A view like that, great company and a all the time in the world. Roll on summer! Once our thirst was sated, we walked slowly back through Hertford to Pizza Express and took a table out in the garden where we drank ice-cold Perroni and snacked on Noci and delicious garlic bread. We were served by the most delightful waitress, a charmingly sexy girl with just the right attitude. Somehow, we managed to sit for over two hours as we made our way through the menu, drinking, eating and laughing until our sides ached and our bellies were full. That done, we wandered back to the car and drove home. So, a perfect weekend then. How was yours, and what did you do? |
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16.5.05 12:03 |
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ONE RULE FOR THEM, ANOTHER FOR EVERYBODY ELSE
It can't have escaped your attention that a police officer caught driving at 159mph whilst "familiarising himself" with an unmarked patrol car was cleared of speeding yesterday. The Sun has reacted with predicatable fury, reporting the story in a subjective and emotive manner under the headline 'Criminal' and there has been the usual clarion call from road safety Nazis for "something to be done". Quite what that something should be is anybody's guess, but there you go. PC Mark Milton, 38, was reported after a fellow officer saw footage taken from the on-board camera of the new Vauxhall Vectra 3.2 litre GSI, which recorded Milton hitting 159mph on the M54 near Telford, Shropshire, in the early hours of Dec 5, 2003. He was also accused of "grossly excessive" speed and driving dangerously on the A5 near Telford at 137mph, and on the town's Redhill Way and St Georges Road at speeds of around 100mph. PC Milton, an advanced police driver who is also trained in the use of firearms, told the court he had taken the car out to assess its capabilities, something he said that he was encouraged to do. The road was "deserted" and conditions were clear. The officer had not told his superiors what he was doing, or the speeds he reached, because he was not required to do so. Indeed, under current legislation, emergency response vehicles are exempt from speed limits as long as it is justifiable under the requirements of duty, such as training practice. David Twigg, defending, told Ludlow magistrates court that PC Milton was not a "recalcitrant schoolboy or even a rookie recruit driving for kicks or to impress a newly-acquired female companion" and he "should not need a note from teacher" to practise his driving. He said the case had been brought on the basis of a series of misconceptions, including a now discredited notion that PC Milton was "doing something sly" and was unaware of the on-board video recording when, in fact, he had switched the machine on. Acquitting him of dangerous driving and speeding, District Judge Bruce Morgan criticised the investigation into PC Milton and described the 38-year-old officer as among the "creme de la creme" of police drivers.
He said: "I can't help but see the irony that those that brought this prosecution are those very people who have purchased cars that go at this speed and paid for him to learn to drive at speed." He accepted that PC Milton, from Bratton, Telford, had driven at "eye-watering" speeds, but criticised West Mercia police for its "total lack of policy" on when and where police drivers should practise driving at very high speeds, describing it as one of "do your own thing". He said he was clearing PC Milton of dangerous driving because none of the witnesses, including his fellow officers, said his driving was dangerous. He added: "Those who get their (advanced level driving) certificates should be able to familiarise themselves with it. We have to live in the real world. Criminals are not so considerate as to only commit their offences in broad daylight and then make their getaway on traffic-free roads. ''I am told that advanced drivers have to keep their skills finely tuned in the same way that batsmen don't walk to the crease at Lord's without practising - batsmen have spent countless hours in the nets, learning and re-learning and digesting their art." Brian Stevens, 52, whose 12-year-old daughter, Sadie, lost a leg when she was hit on a crossing near her Birmingham home by a police car responding to an emergency, said: "This is an absolute disgrace. The idea that this man can commit these speeds and walk free is unbelievable. ''There is one rule for us and one for the police. What is the point of having speed limits if these people can break them at will?"
Of course there's one rule for them and another for everybody else. Police officers have certain powers and privileges - and certain restrictions too - attaching to office, which set them apart from ordinary citizens. Police officers have a power of arrest for offences, which the common law power conferred upon ordinary citizens doesn't cover. A police officer can deprive somebody of their liberty based upon suspicion that they have been involved in a crime. Police officers too have leave cancelled at a moments notice and are subject to rules, regulations and punishments which don't affect the man in the street. And yes, they are allowed, subject to certain rules, to break speed limits in pursuit of their duties. Clearly then, there is indeed one rule for them and another for everybody else. And I really don't see the problem with that. PC Milton was driving a new, high-powered pursuit vehicle which he was unfamilliar with. He took it out onto deserted roads in the early hours of the morning, and drove it in a manner consistent with his training. Given that criminals act in the real world - and that it is not standard practice for police pursuit drivers to use private tracks to acquaint themselves with the requisite skills - what should PC Milton have done? Wait until he was involved in a high speed pursuit along unfamilliar roads for real before discovering the car's unique characteristics? We still in this country operate on a principle of policing by consent. But it appears that whenever our police officers are called upon to exercise the powers conferred upon them by their warrant cards in pursuit of their duty, it is to widespread public horror. When is the last time you read a report of police marksmen shooting somebody dead without at least one tabloid newspaper columnist calling for the police to be stripped of their authority to carry firearms? Or self-righteously questioning why officers didn't shoot to wound? Criminals work to their own agenda. They don't abide by the rule of law that exists to make society function smoothly. Already, the police have to work with one hand tied behind their backs, fighting criminals on unequal terms as they pursue their quarry according to the restrictions that affect us all. That is as it should be. We want our police to be effective, but they must work within the law. We want to be safe. Yet we give our police service the tools to do the job and berate them when they use those tools. Regardless of what The Sun Says, PC Milton did nothing wrong and Dictrict Judge Bruce Morgan did the right thing by acquitting him. What say you? |
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19.5.05 11:44 |
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Glorious Gunners
Saturday, 21st May, 2005. Our grins barely illustrate our joy as Nick and I celebrate after seeing Arsenal sink Manchester United 5-4 on penalties to lift the F.A Cup. Yes, we were unchracteristically outclassed in the game; we missed Henry up front and Bergkamp, the lone receiver lacked the pace and agility to ever be a threat to United's defence. Some say we didn't deserve to emerge from the Millenium Stadium as the victors. But then, given the counltess chances, the corners, the shots at goal that Manchester United failed to convert, they deserved victory even less. A goalless draw in an F.A Cup final for the first time since the Tinaic sank, and no change to that scoreline even after extra time saw the first penalty shoot out in cup history. Penalties introduce another edge to football, a pressure all of their own. As a fan, it's almost intolerable - and the feeling was palpable amongst the twenty of us gathered at Nick's on Saturday afternoon, steeped in alcohol after six hours of drinking. But Arsenal's players handled it far better than did we; five flawless spot kicks and a superb save by Jens Lehman against Scholes and everything changed. History won't remember the game; it's the result that memory recalls and people's minds have already edited the highlights down to the five flawless kicks and one save. Arsenal FC, F.A Cup Champions, 2005. Roll on next season! |
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21.5.05 10:08 |
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SEA CHANGE
Nothing's ever cut and dried in my work until it's done. The biggest gigs - my foreign assigments and those that let me borrow someone else's reality for a few days so that I might file copy, belie the nightmare that is the logistical operation required to make it happen. What happens behind the scenes is always the untold story, but the combination of tenacity, luck and timelimness that are the recipe for a successful outcome sometimes make for far more interesing analysis than the thing that gives life to them. Countless phone calls and emails occupy my time in the days and weeks immediately leading up to a trip. Rarely is what's required in the gift of just one person, so it's a question of pitching the idea to the right one at the right time. Then it's a matter of co-ordinating the numerous agencies involved, the logistics of getting from point A to point B as smoothly as possible and securing the co-operation and full support of those at the destination. It's never straighforward, even when it appears so from afar; like the serentity of a duck cruising silently across a lake, the finished product masks the frenetic activity beneath the surface that made it all possible. One-off assignments are bad enough, but when they fall back-to-back in the same week, the logistical exercise requires multi-tasking skills to tax even those of Nicola Horlick (which puts me at something of a disadvantage because I tend to get confused if I'm doing anything more complex than walking and talking at the same time).
Hopefully though, that can all be forgotten for now. After an emotional roller-coaster of a week for me which saw things on/off/on/off and on again, I'm just in the process of packing all my kit together with clothing suitable for a range of climates from cold to tropical/down and dirty to formal. Oh, and just to make things interesting, I'm only permitted one bag plus my camera kit. The next week will see me taking planes, trains and automobiles as well as being all at sea on a ship, which then neccesitates the involvement of a helicopter. My passport should get a good work out too. So, no more from me after today, but I'll be back next week when hopefully, I should have a nice portfolio of images and a head full of stories to tell. Play nicely, eh and I'll see you all soon. |
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23.5.05 11:30 |
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