ml haynes design

The Flip has landed and the fun has just begun. This is a quick field test of the UltraHD, sans tripod. Mic picks up absolutely everything. Color is true and consistent. Upload and transfer couldn’t be easier. Getting 120 minutes of record time, more than 6 hours of battery life and 1280×720 video resolution means I’ll be taking this everywhere and sharing the adventure here.

Started the week (didn’t we all?) watching Avatar in a 3D IMAX theater. Ended the week watching Aurélia’s Oratorio (we all should!) in a small rep theater. Probably the closest I could get to two extremes of storytelling. Made for a lot of thought on how we do this as producers of stories and how much we bring as consumers of stories.

I’d heard the hype on James Cameron’s new movie and was struck by the harsh critique of the storyline. I was more interested in the technology and effects, but found myself paying more attention to the storytelling than I might have had I not heard the criticism. Bottom line: The story is a simple one, and one that we’ve been telling each other for a long, long time. I believe that anything more complicated would have weighed down the story, pulling us away from some of the most telling truths of the film. Using just one visual metaphor — that of light and illumination — the film-maker has captured so much, and tells us so much, about life and truth.

I had not heard one word about the live theater piece I saw nearly one week later. Reading the program as the venue filled to capacity it became clear that I was about to see the latest in a long line of performance pieces spawned from cirque and ancestral to so much modern-day big-top entertainment. And while there were words uttered during the 70-minute show I found those sounds so unnecessary. The colors of the spare set, the simple props told so much of the story. The movements of the performers — just two for the vast majority of the piece — did more to communicate than any dialogue could. The producer of this story certainly had a point-of-view and a story to tell, but the space that was allowed for each of us in the audience to bring our own experience and expectations was such a counterpoint to the tightly scripted and structured tale I’d taken in just days before.

As storytellers we could all take a minute to consider the silent spaces between lines and the import of the audience in filling those spaces for themselves. If what we’re truly trying to accomplish is an experience — a positive and memorable one at that — shouldn’t we be inviting the collaboration of our consumers (the listeners, viewers, users, guests) and creating authentic and available space for them?

Now screening in select art-house theaters across the U.S. is an 86-minute documentary entitled, “Art & Copy.” No stranger to the documentary genre and familiar with commercial film as advertising, director Doug Pray points the camera at ad legends and affords us, the viewers, an opportunity to see and hear from the creators of iconic campaigns and cultural game-changers.

I sought out the film, having heard about its release post-Sundance, and found myself sitting in a tired, old movie house amongst what appeared to be kindred spirits. There’s a certain stature to advertising creatives — or I like to think so — and we all seemed to carry the same attitude of reverence for the masters in front of us with a touch of show-me-something-new cockiness. All casual and laid back, but all knowing and up front about it. I was actually surprised at how many of us showed up for a Wednesday 8pm showing. I thought we’d all still be hunched over our keyboards, working out one last thing before the holiday.

I was also surprised to learn about two amazing women who pioneered this testosterone-heavy business — Phyllis Robinson and Mary Wells. It’s not often that women or their work are showcased, but here they have quite a bit of screen time. Robinson, the first copy chief at Doyle Dane Bernbach and originator of the “Me Generation,” speaks gracefully of how her process was not so much one of complete creation but of reflection. Mary Wells, first woman to own and run an ad agency, first female CEO to take a company public and creator of the “I Love New York” campaign, describes how an ad campaign turned into a complete re-branding and changed an industry.

Two other favorites — Hal Riney and Lee Clow — get plenty of attention as they explain what creativity is, how it works (and doesn’t work) and what makes a brand, a company and an agency successful. Riney passed away in March 2008; Clow will retire in 2010. Both men created some of advertising’s most memorable campaigns and have some of the best backstories on those campaigns. And while each man’s distinctive style may not sync with the quick-cut, hyper-speed sensibilities of today’s creatives — and certainly the brands trying oh-so-hard to stay current — they will both be missed.

Art & Copy, a film by Doug Pray. Worth the wait. Worth the search. Order the large popcorn.

Pre-production began nearly a year ago. Principal photography, for all intents and purposes, wrapped in early August 2009. And after many interviews, presentations, reasoned arguments and irrational fears, a team of film-makers, storytellers and dreamers are now waist-high in post-production on a 60-minute documentary film. I’m honored and excited to be a part of the team and the process.

What I’m finding of most interest at this point is the experience of building a narrative — crafting a story from hours and hours of footage. We intentionally created this path for ourselves, knowing that we could never predict the stories and soundbites we’d find once filming began. Now to be on the other side, sifting through so much material, the choices we made months ago have presented us with some very particular challenges.

I’m curious, relatively new to this, what typically happens as the documentary film-making process unfolds. Does a writer/director outline a story arc and produce the footage to support the story? Or does that creative person conjure a direction, broad and open, and go in search of whatever may come up along the way? One direction seems so purposeful and yet so conscripted. The other organic and unruly. How often might this describe the creative process in general?

Something to consider: How do we prepare for creative challenges? How comfortable are we, as designers and developers, with the unexpected?