A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Recently, I found myself exasperated. Eventually, this turned into a more average level of directed annoyance. Finally, I was left to deal with a lingering residue of general discouragement.
This arc of heated emotions was not brought on by any of the more typical things one might expect (especially in light of recent events here in Boston). Rather, they were ignited by the latest in a string of announcements appointing a celebrity to the post of Creative Director for a large corporate enterprise.
I will grant that there are actually a few instances of this phenomenon which register as less than absurd; for example, a musician contributing to a company in the business of manufacturing audio gear seems fairly rational. But by and large the connections between these companies and their newly appointed Queens or Kings of Creative Direction are dubious. And infuriating. And wrong.
During twenty years as a commercial artist, I’ve had the opportunity to meet many talented and dedicated people. Art Directors. Designers. Writers. Photographers. Strategists. Illustrators. Directors. And Creative Directors. Across wide ranges of individual talent, it has been my experience that these people have one thing in common: they all bleed for their work. Whether they are involved in rebranding a global institution, making commercials to be aired during the Super Bowl, or designing a logo for their favorite local coffee shop, they obsess over their work in manner most observers would think maniacal. They polish every defect out of every detail, knowing full well that the audience is never going to recognize or comprehend anything so specific. And in the precious little spare time they are able to make in their lives outside of the studio or office, they are busy finding new inspirations to keep them at the front of an industry in a constant state of change.
Commercial artists are like anyone else who goes to work each day pushing themselves to do better than they did yesterday and who trades on the perception of the quality associated with their effort. We crave fairness. To be treated fairly. To be judged fairly. To be compensated fairly.
Our value—and subsequent compensation—is based on the perception of our value in the eyes of our clients. Which brings me directly to the source of my exasperation. How do these celebrity appointments to the post of Creative Director effect the opinion of our value from the viewpoint of our clients? What kind of message does this send to our existing and future clients? Could it really be so easy to become a Creative Director? Are there really no years of practice or study required? No rigor? Viewed in this light, is it not impossible to demonstrate genuine talent? Or experience? Or value?
As one part of my brain has struggled with this, another part has wondered if I was being overly sensitive about the whole situation. Maybe. But to dismiss these actions and reactions as somehow unimportant or trivial is to diminish the craft. The potential ramifications of these appointments should not be shrugged off as petty.
For the companies involved, this decision—while misguided—is in some ways understandable. The CEO of the company that inspired this post actually admitted to taking the action in order to “try to get some of our mojo back”. But what about the celebrity? Like us, these people are artists of some kind or other. So, in case nobody has said this out loud to them: they should know better. As fellow artists, they know the cost of someone posing, pretending to be something for which he or she is clearly not qualified. Accepting the title of Creative Director might be heady stuff for them, but the raw truth is that they are casting a long shadow on an entire industry … for the sake of money, vanity, or both.
Before it appears that I’ve gone ’round the bend entirely, my position is not that celebrities should abstain from contributing their voices to companies that want to hear them. I would never propose such a thing. My point is that titles matter, in our industry as in any other. They clarify roles. They define scope. Perhaps most importantly, they recognize achievement.
Titles, in the context of people who dedicate their lives to earning them, are about recognition—not fame. So let’s refer to these celebrity contributors honestly and accurately. Call them Spokespeople. Consultants. Muses. Inspirations. But dammit, stop calling them Creative Directors.
