brandopus

When I first saw advertised that Dan Germain, Creative Director at Innocent was giving a talk at the Design Museums 'Designer's Breakfast' I was keen to go. Whether you are part of the 'Love Innocent' camp, or more of the 'vehemently hate' mindset, there's no denying it is a brand that has caught the eye, and I was curious to see what the man behind the creative output is really like.

Dan gave a précis of the start-up of the brand, back to 1999 when the 3 founders, went to a music festival selling their smoothies at a stall. They asked festival-goers to put their empty bottles into recycling bins labeled 'yes' or 'no', under the header "Should we give up our day jobs?" At the end of the festival the 'yes' bin was overflowing and there were only 3 bottles in the 'no', so they each resigned the following day.

What's in a Name? Everything. At this time the brand was known as 'Fast Tractor', but after a brainstorming session in Huddersfield library, huddled around a thesaurus, an array of names including 'Nostrum', 'Newborn' and 'Innocent' were put out to research, and thus the brand we all know was truly born. Between then and now the company has grown to about 220 people, and with a turnover of £180-200 million this year.

So what was Dan's part in this growth? How and why has Innocent succeeded where others have failed? He gave us three reasons...

1. Use Your Own Voice.

If you watch a Woody Allen movie, even if you don't know it's a Woody Allen movie when you first tune in, you know pretty quickly. He has a distinct style - him doing his own thing, not like anybody else. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but he does what is true to him. Innocent take the same approach- they have a voice of their own. 

All along they have just been trying to have a chat to their consumers. Back in 1999 there was no Facebook, Twitter or Instagram - the packaging was their equivalent platform, and over the years they have continued to use that space and retained their voice. The chatty, jovial tone and whimsical lines like 'Stop looking at my bottom' stamped into the plastic bottle base.

Innocent are always writing stuff, and people are always writing back. At Fruit Towers (Innocent's headquarters on Ladbroke Grove, West London) they have a noticeboard with all sorts of things pinned to it that people have sent in. One woman even sends a tapestry of a cow every year - that's quite an investment of her time. I'm not sure how many other brands customers would do that for? The team reply to as much of the mail as they can, and Dan reminisces about one of his responsibilities during the early days of Innocent being to respond to people who emailed 'hello@innocentdrinks.co.uk'. It was like 'the best job ever' he said, 'like emailing your friends all day from work'.

For all the people who love to chat with Innocent, there are also those who are not drawn in. The Sabotage Times offers an interesting perspective on talking brands. But Innocent do not waver, they do not try to be something to everyone.  They understand that if they did then they would dilute their message and the brand would suffer. 

2. Be interesting.

Dan brings up a picture of a big yellow picnic hamper. It turns out on closer inspection that the picture is in fact the Longaberger headquarters building in the US. They make picnic hampers and decided it would be far more interesting to build a big yellow hamper to work in than a regular run of the mill office building. More importantly, how much more interesting is it to be employed by someone who makes that kind of decision? This is a good analogy for Innocent, where their ethos runs through the whole of their business. They don't work in a big smoothie bottle, but the employees do have a 'shared cultural understanding' at Fruit Towers.

3. Never listen to 'No'.

This has been a winning mindset of the Innocent team. They have tenaciously pursued avenues that seemed closed and found ways around obstacles. When one of the marketing team suggested putting little wooly hats on the bottles, they stuck to their 'Yes' principles. Against a barrage of 'Nos' that anyone working in the food packaging industry can appreciate, the project went ahead, and has become their biggest in-store promotion, growing in popularity and recognition year-on-year. Great things start from people who don't give up.

The talk opened up to questions at the end, which ranged from asking about the use of external creative support, through to Innocent's involvement as Olympic sponsor this year. But for me, the most interesting question asked how Dan feels about other brands that have appropriated the Innocent language. Flattered and annoyed, was his honest answer. If it is truly their voice, then that's ok with Dan... but if the story a brand is telling is a veneer, then that's pretty rubbish really. But, ever-positive, Dan turns this into a plus for Innocent, explaining how the creative team have really raised their game in response over the last few years, and 'just try to do it better'.

"I've interviewed Bailey before, he's un-interviewable and uncontrollable" quipped the evening's compere; Andrew Graham-Dixon as he settled into a seat opposite his subject. David Bailey, looking up, threw the audience a side-long glance, a quick smile and over the course of the next hour promptly indulged his reputation.

Conventional it seems, is not David Bailey's style, his approach to being interviewed being wilfully contrary at mildest. Striking up an immediate and entertaining rapport with his interviewer, the two proceeded to bounce stories and jokes of each other, raising laughter at every turn. Through-out Graham Dixon coaxed Bailey to reveal details of his up-bringing in 1950's East London, revealing a story of local boy made-good against a gritty post-war backdrop. It was a story directly at odds with that of a conventional creative education. Let alone having ever been to 'or even having heard of art school' we heard of east-end odd jobs, and life in RAF national service.

"Did you ever visit galleries growing up" asked Graham-Dixon
"Galleries...?" growled Bailey
"You were lucky to get a cheese bun in the East End"

In amongst the rags to riches rhetoric, Bailey's back story was illuminating, if only in showing how these experiences had defined his character, and allowed his creative instincts to flourish.

Curiously for a photographer, he seemed unwilling to show and discuss any of his actual photography, deferring instead to talk about his perhaps lesser know parallel career as a director of TV ads. Several were screened to the audience, notably Greenpeace and Volkswagen adverts from the 80's. Sharp editing and close framed shots evoked the spirit of his photography, a technique which he jokingly referred to as 'if in doubt get in close'. He largely seemed coy about speaking at length upon his work, instead stating how he preferred to look forward instead of back. Perhaps this was a symptom of the ubiquitous nature of his shots, in a way they require no elaboration. 

At times however, he divulged fascinating titbits on the people he had worked with, sometimes in a startlingly candid way. It became clear that the core of what everything Bailey did was about people, with his creative output being formed from his relationship with a subject. He stated that before he ever photographs or films anyone, he sits down and gets to know them. "How could I photograph them without knowing what they're about".

On reflection this attitude of immersive involvement with one's subject struck direct parallels with the D&AD talk that Bob Gill gave a month previously. Perhaps it was this direct and uncompromising attitude that drove such creatives of the 1960's to define their field so stridently.

It strikes me that this advice has never been more relevant than today. With technology, and process providing distraction at every turn, maybe a re-connection with the root of our subject matter is just what we need.

Last week a few of us went along to the D&AD President's Lecture to listen to Bob Gill, Sir Alan Parker and Lord David Puttnam review 50 years of the industry organisation, at the Mermaid Theatre on Puddle Dock (Puddle Dock being one of the cuddliest street names in London.) Once we had established in the cab that we weren't going to see the typographer Eric Gill, we were all set.

The lecture marked 50 years since the beginning of the D&AD and was constructed in a sort of 'Parky' style interview with a nice man (Tom Sutcliffe) asking the three men questions about their career. Sutcliffe began with an introduction which framed 1962 for the audience. Most notably it being the year in which The Sunday Times produced the first ever colour supplement, which all three men agreed had a profound effect on advertising and design. Sutcliffe also helpfully referred to it as being the year in which Don Draper worked on the American Airlines campaign. It turns out these men on stage were the ORIGINAL MAD MEN! Very exciting!

Bob Gill got the ball rolling by talking about moving from NYC to London on a whim for a couple of weeks, and then deciding that he wanted to stay for the rest of his life, which makes you feel very proud to live in London village. Even though it's only 50 years ago, which is really only a teeny amount of time, it was incredible to hear how much the industry has changed. He talked about starting Fletcher, Forbes & Gill (with legendary Alan Fletcher and Colin Forbes) and not having a phone in the studio for the first year. Amazing! This was around the time they started the D&AD, an organisation which was created as a tool for designers to showcase their work. Gill talked about how impressive he thought the organisation and standard of work still was today.

All three men chatted easily about their careers, which often overlapped, and have been incredibly varied and ever changing, which was really inspirational in itself - Alan Parker (very likeable and British - sounded a bit Michael Caine) started out as a copywriter and went on to become a distinguished film director, directing films such as Bugsy Malone, Fame and Evita. (He even told us a story about Madonna- good name drop) Finally David Puttnam, originally an account executive (I had Pete Campbell in mind) showed a Levi's ad by Ridley Scott that he had to sell to his hesitant clients, despite being nothing like anyone had seen before- multiple angle shots and lots of 1970s whizzy movement. It was amazing to see how far we have come in terms of advertising.

However, the most memorable part of the lecture had to be Bob Gill's thoughts on how to get a good idea. He was berating how easy it is for us designers these days to have everything at our fingertips in terms of research and information from the internet.  And despite being able to access information at the click of a button, it doesn't necessarily help form original and great ideas. He used designing a logo for a launderette as an example. His advice was to forget everything you know about launderettes - all your preconceptions, and find one. And sit. And talk to people who work there, people who use the service. Just take it all in  - and once you have taken it all in - the sounds, the smells, everything that makes the launderette what it is, you will come up with an original idea. Listen to that idea, and from there the creative part will be easy.

This makes so much sense! Let's get out from behind out macs more. I know I usually come up with my best ideas on my walk home to Waterloo train station. And I'm now excited about putting this in to practice more often than I already do. Another tip was to draw, draw, draw, which I guess we just don't see enough of these days.  He said going straight to mac is dangerous because you spend yonks tweaking what might actually not be a really strong idea. If you draw it on a Post It you won't feel too precious about throwing it away if in hindsight it's a bit shonky. What sensible advice! Layouts come second to the big idea and he talked about how easy it was for people to forget that.

I came away feeling really inspired and smiley. You left feeling like you'd happily swap maybe, Stephen Fry say, at your dream dinner party for one of these creative geniuses. (Unless Jon Hamm happened to be available that is)

Last week, a much heralded retrospective of Yayoi Kusama's work opened at the Tate Modern. Cited as the most important and influential Japanese artist alive today, it showcases work across her long and prolific career, from the 1940's until present day.

The show kicks off with a look at Kusama's early career, revealing the seeds of an artist finding her feet in the late 1940's. Throughout a series of expressive paintings she wears influences from the period on her sleeves. Traces of Miro and Dorethea Tanning surface through dark and dream-like imagery tinged with surrealism. In 'Lingering Dream, 1949' a highlight from her work of this era, blood red flowers wilt and die, their petals cast into gaping mouths, gasping for air. This work initially seems very distant from her later work, fore-going her trademark playfulness and use of colour. The trauma of a post-war Japan, is writ large here, with devastation and tragedy still a recent memory to many of her generation. It was a birthplace it seems she was desperate to escape, describing it at the time as 'Feudal and artistically inhibiting'.

Her subsequent move to New York in the 1950's marks a clear progression in her work. Exposure to the abstract expressionist and pop-art movements seemed to stimulate a new rigour and emerging style to her approach. Giant Canvases, seemingly at first a minimal wash of muted tones, reveal themselves to be obsessively constructed landscapes of staccato brushwork, almost machinelike in their regularity. It is an approach which she described as a 'meditative process', but which also in retrospect signalled a growing obsessiveness which marked a slow slide into mental illness.

A defining point of the show, are the 'whole room installations', bold sculptural pieces where items from everyday life are festooned in fleshy white phallic growths. In 'Boat, 1964' a rowing boat submits to this unique fate, spot-lit in a shadowed room, with repeated photostats of the incident wallpapered from floor to ceiling. The effect is both dramatic and unsettling.

Walking through the exhibition reveals an artist constantly adapting to her cultural surroundings. Perhaps the most pertinent example of this was her induction into the flower generation of the late 60's. Psychedelic film footage documents her artistic experiments with group performance, where shots of body painting are manically edited into dizzying celluloid trips. Out of context of the swinging 60's, this work does seem at times a little trite, but did as the exhibition proceeds to reveal, pave the way for a riotous exploration of colour for which she became famous.

The 1970's onwards marked the appearance of her signature polka dot, a device which she has explored with vigor across a series of sculptures, and installations. One particular gallery space was flooded in almost-darkness, dimly lit in ultra-violet. Small fluorescent polka dot stickers peek out of the shadows, covering the forms of a domestic interior; a table, a lamp, yet radically recasting them as something mysterious and otherworldly. The show stealing final piece draws viewers into a winding tunnel of wall-to-wall mirrors and sparkling lights, conjuring an infinite horizon, magical and absorbing.

Stepping away from this riotous world, it struck me how much the curation of this exhibition really plays to the strength of Kusama's work. Building a story across 50 years which seems to both deeply expose her drive and character, whilst equally reflecting the cultural and stylistic shifts of half a century. In short, it's a ride well worth taking.

After seeing the Cirque du Soleil 5 years ago I couldn't resist seeing them again when I found out the new tour Totem was at the Royal Albert Hall. (I have a personal penchant for the Royal Albert Hall after singing with none other than Jason Donovan in Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat when I was only 10 years old)

Totem- where do I begin? Microbes and monkeys, swamps and springboards, lasers and lotharios: welcome to the latest Cirque du Soleil! The opening is wonderful: a spangled man (Joseph David Putignano) descends from the hall's highest point and descends into what appears to be a huge tortoise shell where frogs appear to leap and perform the most amazing acrobatics.

The many highlights for me included a Native American woman being spun around by her neck from a man on roller stakes and Chinese women kicking and catching bowls on their heads, whilst managing to ride around on tall unicycles.  At the culmination I counted a grand total of nine bowls and a teapot. Then there's the team of eight Russian men... One guy holds a pole steady on his shoulders as a team of acrobats slither up it, then the pole is then transferred to his forehead whilst the guy at the top does a headstand. Incredible!

The costume design is amazing too. From dazzling Swarovski crystal-encrusting to glittery frogs and unusual clowns, providing a nice twist on the classic circus.

The graphics projected onto the stage are amazingly effective at making the performers and stage become one; Film projections flow across a sloping platform at the back of the stage, suggesting waterfalls or lapping waves. In one sequence, the water retreats creating a beach, with the stage becoming the shimmering surface of the ocean. In another, filmed figures swim into view, emerging from the screen as actual performers.  I can't fathom the amount of time it took to imagine and technically work out the set design.

In all, Totem is a visual sensation and such a slick performance that really doesn't fail to amaze and keep you on the edge of your seat!