art not ads

This story has been kicking about for a while, but it’s worth mentioning. Have you seen those awful ads that a certain tissue-manufacturer has been airing, where a guy sits on a blue couch in the street and invites people to “let it out” and talk to him? There’s a box of tissues on the table, and as the volunteers open up their hearts, they tug out a tissue to dry their eyes. Very touching.

The manufacturer in question, Kimberley-Clarke, make a proud boast of using 100% virgin fibre. Campaigners Kleercut say that this material largely comes from clear-cutting ancient forests, which are home to wolves, caribou, and other wildlife that are forced to move on as their habitat is destroyed. It certainly doesn’t look very pretty.

The Kleercut campaigners took to the streets of New York to interrupt the filming of some of these ads. The results are quite amusing. However, the really interesting part of that film from is the comments from the advertising film crew that can be heard in the opening sequences. The volunteers are told that their tears should be genuine, so they’ll need to discuss something moving.

Very few people are naive enough to think that the actual sessions on the blue couch are as open and heartwarming as the final edit purports; and some may not agree with Kleercut’s tactics. But it’s fascinating to get a glimpse into the machinations of an advertising campaign that sets out to deceive. Of course, TV is all theatre, but this advert uses members of the public in an ostensibly impromptu display of emotion, a facade that is demolished by the overheard comments in the film. The link to the final product is tenuous at best, though as any marketeer will tell you, if you engage the audience’s emotions, they’ll most likely remember the product. It’s disappointing that everyone involved in the ad, even presumably the volunteers for the blue couch, were aware that they were all being duplicitous about the premise of the ad. In any group activity, responsibility can become diffused among all participants, so the individuals feel little responsibility themselves. Is it a little harsh to suggest similar mechanisms are at work in advertising, particularly in cynical and exploitative ads? Is there any other reason that people are induced to take part in this sort of advertising? (Apart from cash of course..!)

Lots of lovely stuff happening out there at the moment. Clicking a few links on the internets today turned up all this booty.

The New York Times reports that Steve Lambert, a “conceptual artist” (tee hee!) from the Anti-Advertising Agency, has created AddArt, a small piece of software for the Mozilla Firefox browser that replaces adverts with art imagery. (Via Stay Free Magazine.)

The Anti-Advertising Agency blog has a wonderful story, complete with photos, of fly-posters being arrested for placing Microsoft adverts illegally around Los Angeles. It’s good to see they also mention the Pixelator and David Lynch’s opinion of product-placement in films.

The Anti-Advertising Agency collaborates with the Samara Project, which aims to “call into question the purpose and effects of advertising in public space.”

Stay Free also has an article on “ad creep”, the pernicious race to cover all available surfaces with advertising.

David Lynch succinctly expresses his opinion on films that use “product placement” to gain funding:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4wh_mc8hRE

The Other Paper has an article about a “sophisticated defacer of public property” named Vinchen.

Two weeks ago, the floor manager of the Hilton Columbus at Easton was strolling through the hotel when he noticed something strange. From a distance, it appeared that a new Hilton advertisement had been hung on the wall of the hotel’s conference room. Everything about the picture projected dignity and sophistication: the Hilton insignia, the Hilton colors, even the Hilton lettering. Everything, that is, except the Hilton daughter. In the right half of the poster, a tipsy-looking Paris Hilton appeared bare-breasted. The text accompanying her image read: “For over 80 years the Hilton name has been synonymous with elegance and class.” Then, in large letters: “A tradition that continues today.”

A little “Banksy” perhaps, but top work.