Oliver Tiersch – 30th May 2011
Passion
It’s a sunny day in April. Adah Paris, School of Communication Arts 2.0’s youthful Operations Manager, enters the Biscuit Building to visit Mother in Shoreditch. (They love their Mothers in the East End).
She spends most of her time there talking to Alex West, Mother’s Head of Talent, about the school’s radical new ideology and why it promises to turn out the hottest young talent around. Then she manages to collar Robert Saville.
Now, when Adah talks about SCA 2.0 (in fact, when she talks about most things) she is full of sparkling energy, and her contagious laugh makes each and every conversation with her an emotional and captivating experience.
So it comes as no surprise when, a couple of days later, she tells me and my creative partner that though she only got to speak to Robert for a couple of minutes, he said that the passion he saw in her eyes was enough to convince him that the school’s concept was a winner.
Cut to the 5th of May. I’ve had a mere four hours sleep, and Mar (my creative partner) and I have just finished the final artwork for our, and SCA’s, first student produced advertising campaign, which is due to go live four days later. We’re about to start working on another pitch when we hear about an idea Mother have for Shoreditch Digital Week.
They want to build a website and platform for Arts Against Knives new project. Called ‘Our Space’, it aims to get kids involved in creating art, music or anything else – rather than cutting little patterns in each other’s bellies.
Being a bit annoyed with ourselves for missing Albion Society’s breakfast club, we decide to leave school an hour earlier and pop over to the Biscuit building to make Mother’s event.
After a quick chat, and an intro into the different areas we will working on, we split up into groups and get started with the project.
The mix of people and age groups collaborating for the next three hours couldn’t be any more different, yet, even though none of us have ever before, we all get along tremendously well.
(I don’t know if it was the free salmon and bacon bagels, the beer and orange juice or simply that everyone who went wanted to get the most out of it –whatever it was, it was a fantastic experience.)
Just two and a half hours after we arrive, the web page we’ve created is ready to be uploaded. The concept done, copy written, logo and graphics designed.
Once the website is up, everyone applauds – and a spark of real satisfaction can be seen in all the eyes around the room.
That night, I realised what Robert meant when he told Adah that passion is what really counts in advertising. For me, it goes something like this:
Passion is what you do – never mind the money. Passion is invaluable. Passion is chasing a goal you see as more important than an extra hour of sleep or another pint in the bar around the corner. You can’t buy passion, you can’t earn or acquire it. Passion is for sharing. Passion fuels inspiration.
What I learned that night was that shared passion creates ‘wonders’. Sometimes big wonders, like flying to the moon or bringing down a government. Sometimes smaller wonders, like cooking a meal for a loved one – or building a web page with a bunch of strangers in just three hours.
Mother’s philosophy is to make great work, have fun and make money. In that order.
When I left Germany six years ago my parents told me that they don’t care what I do, as long as I do it with a clear conscience and a genuine passion. Because then they’ll have no need to worry about my future.
Lance Armstrong didn’t win the Tour de France at his first attempt. Neither did he win it untrained – because having a passion for something can be bloody hard work. But the good news is, being successful is bloody good fun. And making money is a very handy side effect.
I’m not attempting to win the Tour de France seven times, but, bloody ‘ell (as they say in the East End), do I have a serious passion for creating interesting communication.
Who knows what wonders (big and small) that may lead to?
Two hours ago my latest little wonder was my first, home-made, tuna carpaccio, which disappeared far too fast. So it seems one passion can eat another; creation versus consumption.
