On the Conference Docket Now

My conference moderator face.

There's a number of events I attended in the last few weeks that I wish I'd had time to mention earlier: Plugg Brussels, Marketing 2.0, TechCrunch Paris. But, deadlines being what they are and with the internet constantly throwing stuff like this at you, I never really got around to it.

Let's try moving backward.

Humor me ››

Cannes Lions: Real Winnars in Film, Interactive and Titanium; Perspective on Our Horizons

Saturday night: the show to end all shows, the one people actually queue in line for. (Though markedly less so than in previous years, as tweeted by Influencia.) And while recession-spawned conservatism was accounted for, the jury hailed from all corners of the globe and generated cheers -- like rock stars.

Saw some awesome work over the next two hours, but it remains a shock who ultimately won what.

There was a lot of talk about how Cannes Lions '09 differed from previous years. I'd say there was a greater focus on how efforts addressed users directly, although creativity remains a big part of that. And given who won the Grands Prix for Titanium and Integrated, it may be the first year agencies must take into account that the user has become a legitimate advertiser himself.

This is no death-of-the-agency foretelling; it's simply a call to listen more closely and respond more intuitively to the crowd. We have spent so many years trying to contrive artificial emotional connections between products and people; it is only natural that, now that they're able, consumers demand to know why those connections should exist in the first place.

What does your company stand for? Does it listen and respond to me? Crucially, is it as willing to incorporate me into its message as I am to incorporate it into my life?

Grand Prix recipients, and a wee bit o' work, listed below.

For FILM: "Carousel" for Philips Cinema 21:9 by Tribal DDB Amsterdam.




This ad depicted a frozen heist-gone-wrong where you intuited the story as the camera panned. Online, you could hone in on parts of the film to see behind-the-scenes material, and manipulate the soundtrack.

Users could also change formats to 21:9 to witness the merits of the film quality: the caked makeup on the clowns, wrinkles on the cops, and that incredible moment where the guy flies through the glass, and you can see, through the shards, the different textures of his antagonist's face.

For TITANIUM/INTEGRATED: The Obama/Biden presidential campaign, which made sound use of all media and is perhaps best-known for turning its voting public into fanatic advertisers and evangelists.

That Obama's effort won both Titanium and Integrated Grands Prix was a shocker, but you could certainly see evidence of its influence in other ads throughout the week. One reporter told me that over 50 campaigns across all shortlists incorporated Obama in some way; "The Great Schlep," a Droga5 effort to get more geriatric Jewish Floridans to vote for Obama, won a Gold for Direct, for example.

And this piece, by Charles Stone III of the infamous Budweiser "Wassup" campaign from 2000, received separate recognition at the beginning of the awards ceremony on Saturday. (It won no awards because it didn't meet formal criteria.)



'Til next year.

Cannes Lions: Ronald McDonald Cameo Ignites Deep-Seated Clown Rage

Clowns give me mixed feelings. Having watched Killer Klowns from Outer Space at too young an age, they terrify me. And having seen a clown dejectedly make unwanted balloon animals at a party where all the kids were too old, they also make me inexpressibly sad.

Anyway, Ronald McDonald was outside the Palais today, wearing jetpacks of all things. He was doing this big dog and pony show for whoever reared a camera in his direction. Seeing him made me frightened, and when I'm scared I get mad, hence the venomous video.

Afterward I tried taking incriminating potshots of him leaping around and being generally objectionable. But then he looked at me -- right at me -- and gave me that Sad Clown Look. And my heart exploded into tiny little glass pieces. Every time I look at the picture below, I want to cry.



Clowns: gift-wrapped radiators of fear and melancholy. This is something a Happy Meal can't fix.

Cannes Lions: The Calm Before the Tempest

Just wanted to do a quick update before Cannes consumes me and I lose my will to blog while sober.

Arrived yesterday: five-hour train ride from Gare de Lyon to the Cannes station, which appears to be dead-center of nowhere. You can immediately tell who came from the city because we're all still in coats, looking grimy and sordid.

First thing you learn about the south of France in June: can't wear anything here but cotton, linen and flip-flops. Anything else will be soaked in unsavoury bodily oils after the first half-hour; forget about jewelry, and makeup is damn near out of the question.

Not that that's stopping anyone from putting their most garish feet forward. I guess it's apt that a city so humid is the playplace of so many frosted housewives. Over sunburns, uncomfortably tight tanktops and platinum blonde coifs, the telltale glint of diamonds, Swarovski crystals (on FLIP FLOPS?!) and gold is willfully conspicuous.

Checked in at my hotel, about a kilometer from the convention center, then walked down to the Palais des Festivals to get my press pass. It's situated right off La Croisette, the prettiest place in the world to have to travel for work. Potshots of the view:





The Palais was eerily devoid of people -- the way I like a conference hall -- but zealously outfitted in the gold and royal purple that defines the Cannes Lions theme. Check out the staircase skin:



Flanking the staircase on either side are two ultra-contemporary Coca-Cola vending machines. People are drawn to these things like moths to flame, and I soon realize why: they're touch-screen, for a start, and get this: all they do is give free samples of either Coke, Coke Zero or Diet Coke.

It's amazing to me that every time someone stumbles uncertainly through the ridiculously simple steps 1, 2 and 3, a new bottle appears, like magic. You actually wonder if there's a Happiness Factory inside, producing product in real-time. And right before dispensing your ice-cold sample, a little tune plays.

It's the most enchanting pair of vending machines in the entire universe, sparking indiscriminate wonder among far-flung attendees.

Coke-sponsored Happiness™ in action:







They're working in full force today too. I haven't seen them run out even once so far, which will significantly damage their mystique, but it's still early in the week.

There wasn't much more to do last night, so I had drinks at La Scala and dinner at Pavillon Croisette then turned in for the night, buoyed to sleep by a marathon of Bones dubbed in French, my hotel room floor littered with ad festival swag.

Spending most of today in the biggest press lounge I've ever seen, working under a current of many different languages. Cannes Lions is tight about wifi: this is the only room where you can get any for free, and a meaty guard stands watch at the door to check press passes, which come equipped with photos so we can't hanky-panky around and pass them to friends.

Probably gonna be next to impossible to liveTweet sessions -- not to say this anal-retentiveness takes away from any of the territory's kitschy romance. After checking my pass and letting me by, the guard sauntered off and started humming La Vie en Rose. It was one of those "living-a-charming-cliché" moments.

Two Really Good Quotes I Heard at ad:tech

Not remembered to scale.

Social media only further reveals who you really are.

-Alisa Leonard-Hansen

And in response to me, addled by some separate thing, asking whether she has always taken criticism well, Susan Bratton replied thus:

When I started public speaking, I'd get back comment cards that said truly awful things -- that I'm fake, or "who do you think you are?" -- and then I realized there might be something there. I realized I wasn't authenting enough.

What she said stuck out because critique like that can seem really personal -- like the whole world hates you, not because you're doing something wrong (and thus fixable), but because you're damn unlikeable.

Instead of drawing a warm bath and putting on the last-night-on-earth music, Susan saw this as a chance to glimpse a part of herself you can't always see on your own.

It might have been a gift, and she used it.

Let the Games Begin.

I'm in Manhattan for ad:tech NY, staying at a fatally swanky place called The Time. The video above is of the winner of last night's bikini bull-riding contest, which took place at Johnny Utah's at a party hosted by XY7.com.

No one I spoke with has any idea what XY7 does, and I'm willing to bet it's out of business before it can impose another mechanical bull onto us. To be fair, I have been wrong before. The Rubicon Project, for example, continues to pour chocolate fondue fountains on seething throngs year after year.

Read the post, and keep up with all the general grokking and fun-having at the ad:tech blog.

Real-Live Mad Men, OMMA Social, and Awkward Behavior

Ric Kallaher sent over this neat picture of me recording Ed McCabe at the Real Men and Women of Madison Ave. exhibit, which was great, and which I highly recommend next time you're in NYC. (Remember: it'll be at the New York Public Library until September!)

I also got to check out OMMA Social, which was cool even if the finger food was sorta melty and lukewarm. Walking through the door I nearly slammed into my friend Josh Warner of Feed Company, who overwhelmed me with his rapid-fire greeting ("I'm so glad to see you! Married yet? Still write all day? Are you happy?") and introduced me to Rohit Bhargava, whose many interviews I've seen splayed-out all over the internets.

"You're shorter than I thought you'd be," I said.

"Well ... I'm an Indian man," he said mildly.

"It's really neat to meet a man shorter than me!" I said, banshee-like, and Josh -- ever vigilant -- saved my ass with a jovial, "Angela abuses all the men she meets."

"Does it work?" Rohit asked.

"SOMETIMES!" I shouted, unable to lower the decibels.

Rohit laughed and gave me his card: little more than a pocket-sized promotion for his new book, Personality Not Included, and an email. I thought to myself that if he ever regrets handing one to somebody (like me, for example), he never has to worry about them (me!!!) calling his cell phone at lunchtime.

Preemptive thinker.

I caught up with Josh and found Bill Green. We sat for two hours and made over-obvious facial expressions, then decided to leave for the exhibit.

On our way out I took one of the ultra-thick paper napkins from the Yale Club bathroom. It fell out of my folder and onto Bill's shoe. I looked up at his face, expecting to meet eyes with his naked condemnation, but instead he said "Aren't those GREAT?" and I said "Yeah!" and then we left.

OMMA Social shots here, Real Men and Women of Mad Ave. shots here and here (videos too!), Ric Kallaher's "zany!" Wrath of Cannes shots here, and I promise that at some point I will label all my flickr pictures.

In Case You Hadn't Noticed...

The One Show Festival is over and I'm back in Ithaca, nesting.

The ad ceremony/party posts:

- The student competition (SpOnSoReD By DoRiToS!!!). I did get links to the winning student work, which I have yet to incorporate in the post
- One Show Interactive (professional photos hither)

The speaker coverage:

- Jerry Della Femina
- Brian Collins

Highlights: meeting very cool people that I didn't want to spill drinks on and laugh at, seeing Della Femina and Collins at close range (although I think I put Collins off when I told him he had "neat glasses"), and seeing my favourite ads (IN GIGANTOR-VISION!) win well-deserved awards.

I didn't get that whole Halo 3 "Best in Show" thing, but apparently my 19-year-old sister Meia loves them. Her gushing went something like this: "They were amazing! They made the struggle" (struggle?!) "seem so real. Oh and all my friends bought the game."

Like they weren't gonna buy it anyway.

I did, however, think Projector's UNIQLOCK campaign totally deserved "Best in Show" for the Interactive ceremony. It blew me away. Then I spent, like, 15 minutes trying to show Benj why I thought it was so cool and he just wasn't sold.

His reaction: "Is that the time in Tokyo? Oh. All right, I've seen enough."

Halo 3 Won Best in Show, and Then I Had Epilepsy

As posted on Adrants:

The One Show ceremony took place last night and I Twittered like a woman on a suicide mission (or at least a "lose-all-my-followers" mission).

Highlights of the show: the ads were incredible! The King made a speech! Sometimes Tom Papa was funny!

The event kicked off with the first-ever One Show People's Choice award. If you loved BBDO's "Muffin Top" spot for Lifesavers, rest assured the rest of the world did too.

One Club president Mary Warlick approached the podium to honor the contributions of Hal Riney and Phil Dusenberry. Their tribute videos were reflections of my childhood: these men were behind so many of the ads I grew up with. It's a strange feeling to miss people you've never met.

Moving forward:

HBO/Voyeur won a butt-load of honors, repeating its victory streak from the One Show Design ceremony.

Whopper Freakout was also recognized, scoring gold for the Integrated Branding category. In total, BK got two Gold Pencils, one Silver and "Client of the Year." The King came up to absorb the accolades and broadcast his victory speech, an unexpected surprise that got me all excited and out-of-sorts.

See specifics for what Voyeur and Whopper Freakout won at MarketingVOX.

I got excited near the end, because stuff got really good for TV Spots under :30. Fallon's Bravia Bunnies and Cadbury Gorilla got Bronzes, as did the Coca-Cola Balloon ad that lit up the Super Bowl.

Silver winners were almost too awesome to stand: "Dangerous Liaisons" for Levi's (BBH), Skittles' "Touch" (TBWA\CHIAT\DAY), and that hilarious CareerBuilder self-help spot. I was like, What could top those?!

I don't have an easy answer for that. Because can you honestly say you're wild about "Believe"?

Let's hope so, because that same Microsoft Xbox Halo 3 campaign walked away with "Best in Show." And, well, I walked away with a bad case of WTF?!?!-face (which looks something like this).

Read about the judges and other Pencil recipients at the One Show website.

Before Hanging Yourself with that Apple Extension Cord, Consider the Park Lane

I think I'm on suicide watch at Helmsley's Park Lane Hotel.

Somewhere around Madison and 28th St., I contemplated this while absorbing the sight of the NesQuik rabbit, whose gentle invitation to "come to your happy place" seemed to exist just for me.

Everything that happened leading up to Park Lane death watch:

I woke up early today, had breakfast and plugged in my computer. One cannot eat if one does not work; and one cannot work if one does not Twitter.

That's when -- heavens above! -- my trackpad and its clicky button thing stopped working. There was a quiet moment of panic. Then I swallowed what remained of my Belgian waffle, packed my things and hauled ass to the Apple Store.

Some backstory: After attending the OneClub student exhibition last night (to be covered in one of my next posts), I returned to my hotel via subway and noticed with vague interest that I'm right across the street from the Apple Store.

"Neat," I said mildly, even though -- having spent about a quarter of my soul's value on a Macbook Pro last year -- I never planned to walk into an Apple Store again.

"Hmm," said the guy on the other end of the Genius Bar, who blew a little air between the buttons and examined the computer with friendly apathy.* "I'm not really sure what's wrong with it. You're gonna have to turn it in for repairs."

"TURN IT IN!" I exclaimed (ALL CAPS!). "I CAN'T TURN IT IN. I'M ON A DEADLINE!"

He cocked an eyebrow at me. We tried plugging in a mouse; no dice. If I get Pro Care, he said, maybe I can get my computer back in 24 hours.

We stood there while I contemplated the end of my career. I thought of all the news slipping by me, all that typing I'm not doing, and felt myself get all clammy.

"So..." I said. "What if I turn this in and get, like ... a Macbook Air?" For the time being it seemed to be the only solution, plus I kind of wanted to try one anyway.

The suggestion turned the Genius into an veritable faucet of Macbook Air laud. "I love mine!" he gushed. "I bring it everywhere."

"Do you pack it in an envelope?" I quipped, to which he immediately shouted, "GENIUS! THAT. AD. WAS. GENIUS.

"Every time an envelope is placed anywhere near a computer, there goes more brand recognition for Apple," he bragged. "And you know what else? Now OTHER companies are trying to stuff computers into envelopes. They're all saying, 'Mine fits in an envelope too!' but what they're really saying is, 'I can be just as good as Apple!'

"Apple IS THE STANDARD!" he bellowed.

I thought it might be best to grab a computer and GTFO. So I did. And I tried to be casual about it, but the thought of how much time I was losing (10 minutes until the newsletter deadline!) made me all panicky again. And I hated how, so soon after getting my Macbook Pro, I was once again dropping another two grand on some Apple "necessity."

It was kind of an emotional catastrophe.

On the way home, some other lame stuff happened involving my Verizon wireless card, which I don't really want to get into but which felt really last-straw-on-the-camel's-backish.

I got to the hallway of my hotel when my electronic key card stopped working and then something weird happened: big, deer-sized clown tears started rolling down my cheeks. I felt like a leukemia poster child who'd lost her puppy.

That's when the maid came.

"Oh my," she said. "Oh my."

She dashed over, grabbed my head and buried it in her big maternal bosom, which smelled like carnations and fresh linen.

"Let it out, sweetheart, let it out," she said in thickly accented English. Other guests inched by us, looking awkward.

"He hurt you, didn't he," she crooned, lifting my face toward hers. "You've been hurt."

"Uh-huh," I whimpered, because the actual story seemed too complicated. (In retrospect, senior copywriter Edward Herda observed that I had, in fact, been hurt by a man.)

"You don't cry anymore. You go in and lay down and don't cry," the maid said.

Oddly, the waterworks stopped the second I shut the door behind me. I powered up my swanky new laptop, got to work, and fielded a call from the Park Lane's head of security ("Just checking up!"), as well as a personal visit from the head of housekeeping, both of which gave me their names and numbers and asked me to call if I need "anything, just anything at all."

I later related this story to Diane Stefani of The Rosen Group, which does PR for the One Show Festival. She gave me something between a disturbed and amused look, then introduced me to the OneClub people and other news writers -- two girls that flew in from India and Germany, respectively.

We all shook hands and smiled, then I went back to my hotel where I found my room had been cleaned -- again. A small pyramid of chocolate mints sat resting by the bed.

What thoughtful people.

I'm tempted to ask for free wi-fi, but I don't want to seem pushy.

---

* I am actually being really rough on this guy. He spent a lot of time on my issue, trying different tactics and consulting with other Geniuses, and he truly couldn't work out why the trackpad had gotten all late-bloomer on me. I feel grateful, despite that contrasting totally-broke feeling.

Here We are Now, Entertain Us

One Show wants a little interactive spice in its life.

To help out, Adrants is sending me to the Festival next week. We'll be doing ceremony coverage and afterparty stuff. I am a goo pile of happy.

If you happen to be in Manhattan, we can arrange meet-ups via Twitter. Follow me on Twitter anyway for real-time news and whatnot.

Hope my ad:tech SF cough goes away in time. =\