Squarespace's newest campaign is a hilarious PSA on how different types of artists, from musicians to magicians to "storytellers" can "Make It Stand Out." It points to the fact that, statistically, our job titles (and band names) aren't that unique. The campaign naturally suggests both using Squarespace to build your custom site and making a few tweaks to your self-branding to help elevate you and your work above the crowd.
Read MoreThe only thing better than a Michael K. Williams performance is four Michael K. Williams performances. That is what's on display in "Question Your Answers," The Atlantic's first campaign in over a decade. Williams looks toward the camera and asks, "You think I'm being typecast?" It's not for the viewer to answer, but instead for the multiple personas that Williams has played over the years. The following exchange definitely earns the campaign's slogan, as he navigates and breaks down his truths. While Williams does an incredible job of juggling four distinct versions of himself, much of the credit also goes to WNW Member and lead writer Brock Kirby. Below, Brock tells us how he wound up working on this dream job with Wieden+Kennedy. "A great agency with great CDs calls and says, 'We have one of your favorite actors paired up with an awesome brand. Want to write a script with no time constraints?' Uh, yeah, I can do that."
Brock also gives us some insight into the creative challenges and breakthroughs that came with tackling this script: "I’m not an actor. I’m not Black. I’ve never been typecast in the same sense that he’s been typecast. The challenge for me was to figure out how I could draw parallels in my own life, and empathize with him. Ultimately, his worldview, his quest to seek the truth and be comfortable with not finding concrete answers, was what I connected with."
I was a journalism major at the University of Oregon. I wanted to write for Men’s Health. I had a lot more meat in my head at that point. Deborah Morrison (Distinguished Professor of advertising at the U of O) convinced me that advertising might be better fit. Maybe she was right? Or maybe I missed my calling writing articles about shredded abs? We’ll never know.
I find dogma of any kind to be ridiculous. I also know, for sure, that you have to believe in something or you slip into deep depression. Everything is paradox. With every project I attack the “truth” in a brief, satirizing it and outright refuting it in hopes of finding something I can believe in. Thankfully, for everyone, I got to skip that entire process with this project. I’ve never received a brief/platform that so clearly reflected my own view of the world.
This project had been at WK NYC for awhile before I got a call. The CDs, Jaclyn Crowley and Al Merry, had already cracked the big idea with the main client, Sam Rosen. The idea was to have notable personalities debate hard questions amongst their many selves. Al took a CD job at WK Amsterdam while they were reaching out to talent. So I got the call after they found out they had secured Michael K. Williams. All they needed was the question MKW would ask himself, a script, and some tagline exploration. It’s like a dream call really. A great agency with great CDs calls and says, “We have one of your favorite actors paired up with an awesome brand. Want to write a script with no time constraints?” Uh, yeah, I can do that.
Not for me. I try not to think about stuff like that. Besides, there are so many other people capable of shouldering that anxiety. If the broader team was feeling pressure, it was tough to tell. The creative environment was delightful from client to CDs to ECDS. Even Samantha Wagner, the account lead on the project, showed no hint of stress. And Alison Hill, the producer tasked with pulling off some magic, didn’t break a sweat.
Omar. And he was absolutely phenomenal. I think he’s such a transcendent talent he’s able to take any role and add a level of depth that steers it away from a paint-by-numbers stereotype. He also chooses roles that are incredibly well-written.
“The challenge for me was to figure out how I could draw parallels in my own life, and empathize with him. Ultimately, his worldview, his quest to seek the truth and be comfortable with not finding concrete answers, was what I connected with.”
I’m not an actor. I’m not Black. I’ve never been typecast in the same sense that he’s been typecast. The challenge for me was to figure out how I could draw parallels in my own life, and empathize with him. Ultimately, his worldview, his quest to seek the truth and be comfortable with not finding concrete answers, was what I connected with.
He is an absolute master of his craft. I’ve never seen anything like it. Jaclyn and I gave some write-ups for each persona. But Michael took that framework and worked with David Shane to name each character, and really differentiate the parts of himself. He didn’t come in with the mindset that this was some “ad.” It felt like he gave it the same amount of dedication that he gives to all of his work. We were all blown away watching him do his thing on set.
His enthusiasm for the script gave us confidence. There wasn’t a lot of back and forth on it. But he contributed greatly when it came to really distinguishing the characters from one another. From the wardrobe selection, to his delivery, to the smoothie he’s drinking, he added a lot of beautiful nuance to each version of himself.
“He didn’t come in with the mindset that this was some “ad.” It felt like he gave it the same amount of dedication that he gives to all of his work. We were all blown away watching him do his thing on set.”
All of it. Besides the usual sparks of genius from David and Michael and Jaclyn on set.
I think the crew that I got to work with on this was special. It just reaffirms that in order to make something you love, you need extraordinary agency leadership (Karl Lieberman and Neal Arthur) and extraordinary clients.
Go Ducks.
It's important for a creative to have a space that's actually conducive with being creative. Sometimes this can just mean a big desktop, some framed inspiration, and an ergonomic chair. But WNW Member and copywriter Brock Kirby decided to go about a thousand steps further, well beyond adding a new bookshelf or some air-purifying plants: he built his own writing shed.
Brock tell us the whole process took about a year. He had been considering going freelance for a while, and the writing shed was a big part of that dream. Now he freelances, from his backyard. In our interview below, Brock admits that he got a big boost from his father-in-law. "He’s a master builder; that’s not just hyperbole, that’s his official title. He’s incredible at what he does and basically built the entire thing. I held the other end of the measuring tape and made runs to the hardware store, but without him I’m sitting in a prefab. He’s a saint."
Obviously, not everyone has the space or energy or father-in-law to construct their own creative shed. But Brock has some priceless advice that should help everyone up their creative levels. "Have a designated drawer for your phone and keep it in there most of the day. Other than that, just have fun and wear sweat suits."
I’m an Oregon boy. I graduated from the University of Oregon and went out to JWT New York for a couple years, but Portland was calling me back. I landed in a pretty sweet situation at Wieden+Kennedy and learned from the best in that beautiful building. And now, freelance, in my backyard.
I had been considering freelance for awhile and the shed was part of that dream. I love my 1-year-old and 4-year-old kids very much, but I knew I’d need a quiet space away from the Thunderdome that is my house.
I looked at a ton of pre-fab units, but realized my father-in-law and I could probably do it better and cheaper.
The cedar ceiling. In the process of building it we decided to extend it to the eaves out front. I love that it brings the outside and the inside together.
The whole process took about a year. We poured concrete summer 2015, started framing in Spring 2016 and finished the whole thing by end of Summer 2016. We did the majority of the work on weekends and evenings, so just finding the time was the biggest hurdle.
I took some college level engineering classes in high school and worked as a general laborer during the summer for my father-in-law. He’s the one with the skills. He’s a master builder; that’s not just hyperbole, that’s his official title. He’s incredible at what he does and basically built the entire thing. I held the other end of the measuring tape and made runs to the hardware store, but without him I’m sitting in a prefab. He’s a saint.
Books and a couple comfortable chairs. I’ve left some space on the shelves and walls to remind myself that I still have lots of time to fill it with cool stuff.
1: Write
2: Read
3. No fantasy football.
Have a designated drawer for your phone and keep it in there most of the day. Other than that, just have fun and wear sweat suits.
Agency work, short films, the shed itself. Now that I have this big personal project out of the way I can move on to the more cliché ones, novels and pilots and such.
Seriously, get yourself a really comfortable sweat suit or five. At any moment you’re ready to write long copy, do calisthenics or sprint after the godforsaken cat that keeps digging in my fall vegetables.
