Marketing Triptych

Considering Chaos

The web is the web. People do new things around here every single day: They open new groups, start new projects, release new applications, publish new posts, connect with new people. It’s ever-expanding, ever-remixing, ever-renewing itself. It’s a chaotic structure in a positive sense in that it’s working – but we’re not really sure how it works, why it works, and in which direction it is heading.

And yet there are some people claiming to be in the know. They call themselves “experts” in Social Media or Web 2.0 or Viral Marketing, and they follow a million people on Twitter they have never even heard of before. Do they always know more than everybody else?

No, but they charge for it. Think about that the next time you’re writing out a check to an expert. Or you open his “free report”.

There ain’t no such Thing as a Free Report

So we decided following back this marketing guru on Twitter and he sends us an automated direct message, pointing us to his “Free Report”. The problem is, if there’s no free lunch, there ain’t no such thing as a free report, either.

By hitting the link, we’re paying him with our attention. By giving away our e-mail address, we’re paying him with our personal data. By reading his report, we’re paying him with our time. And in the end, the main question is, who’s winning in this transaction: The guru that infiltrates our brain, or we, by gaining new insights?

Permission Marketing, Customer Side

Thanks to Seth Godin, marketers nowadays will pretty much leave us alone, if we don’t ask them to bomb us. That’s great, but in the age of information overload, this often requires one further step: Disconnection.

Disconnection from the stream of words some stupid bird twitters into our ears. Disconnection from the torrent of posts that show up in our RSS feeds. Disconnection from the myriad messages that arrive in our e-mail inbox or that pop up in our iChat each and every day.

No need for hard feelings here: Just because we subscribed to a podcast and gave someone permission to talk to us, it doesn’t mean we can’t withdraw it. If the marketer sucks, we’ll just throw him out. It’s more: Even if he doesn’t suck, but he doesn’t enrich our life either, we’ll throw him out. Permission Marketing, Customer Side means: We decide whom to give our time – and for how long. In the depths of the interwebs, far too many permission marketers are waiting for us with stuff we don’t really need to know about.

Note: This post is part of a series called “Idle Musings”, that I will be publishing here every other Tuesday. I decided to put these three musings together in one post – to get rid of the marketing thoughts (from a customer perspective), that had accumulated in my head lately.

Happy New Year 2009!

Now he went crazy, you’ll think. Wishing a Happy New Year on December 8th?!

Of course, most of us are accustomed to celebrate New Year on January 1st, in accordance with the Gregorian calendar. But frankly, this date is arbitrary. You might have heard that the Chinese, for example, celebrate New Year’s Day between January 21st and February 20th, following a lunisolar calendar. In Babylon, New Year began with the first new moon after the Vernal Equinox, i.e. in the Gregorian month of March. Neopagans, as a last example, celebrate New Year on Samhain, a festival of the ancient Celts, held around November 1st.

The thing is, it doesn’t really matter which day you chose. While the date may appear to be central to us and to everyone else in their respective cultures, what’s more important is the set of implications New Year brings along. We’ll dedicate time to retrospection – and to making plans. We’ll motivate ourselves, focus on the positive stuff that’s ahead, and overcome our anxiety about the future. In the end, it’s about wrapping stuff up and committing to powerful resolutions, to start the New Year full of energy.

So in a few weeks, 2009 will get wrapped up. 2010 resolutions will be made. Toasts will be held. But if you’re not content yet with what this year gave you, allow me a reminder: You chose the day you want to start with your new life. You don’t have to wait for 2010. It’s entirely in your hands. There are still 24 days to go in 2009. That’s 576 hours. Or 34560 minutes.

The question is: Will you take the opportunities these days, hours and minutes offer you? Or will you let them slip and hope for 2010? 2009 is not over yet. Maybe it’s just getting started. 24 days can make a difference. It’s up to you to use them wisely.

Note: This is the first of a series of posts called “Idle Musings”, that I will be publishing here every other Tuesday. The goal of these posts is to provide some food for thought in a concise manner of 300 words maximum. I hope you enjoy them.

Artist’s Consistency versus Kicking Ass: On Avoiding a Consistent Body of Work

Recently, I enjoyed reading a critical post on the limiting definition of art as work over at The Department of Aesthetics. As you might imagine, I totally agree with the author’s rejection of understanding art merely as art-work. As Randall Szott outlines in the post, this restrictive view may well be a consequence of our whole work-centred mindset. In my opinion, this is leading to a partial blindness that may prevent us from experiencing not only art, but also life in general in its fullness.

Randall’s post also reminded me to idle-think a bit more about a topic that was on my mind for quite some time already. It’s the notion of the “consistent body of work” that artists are supposed to produce – and what’s all the buzz about it. Because fact is that critics, gallery owners and artists alike will glowingly praise the great consistency in the “work” of Artist X, while at the same time making fun about the pitiful attempts of wanna-be Artist Y to accomplish this, failing in executing and editing his stuff.

While I reject the concept of “wanna-be”, I’m certainly a dilettante artist. In fact, I’m deliberately dilettante. But this fact notwithstanding, I think it’s time to ask if absence of consistency always has to be a flaw. I personally don’t care about consistent bodies of art, not because it’s too hard to make them, but because they get damn boring all too fast.

Consistency and Commercialization

Why exactly is it necessary to be consistent as an artist? Is it because of an inherent constraint of beauty, or just because of some collector wanting to buy your stuff only as long as it fits into his living room, while assuring an ever-growing resale value?

In the end, if you create 20 pieces of art, mixing collages and paintings and illustrations (I call them skribbles) and diary entries and ready-mades and sculptures and performances and concept art and net art and a whole lot of other stuff nobody even has invented yet, and all of them merge different styles and techniques, bringing together a variety of materials and currents, and if all these pieces are excellent, who the fuck cares about consistency?

The money people do. The gatekeepers do. And they want you to care, too.

Gerhard Richter, one of the most successful living artists, describes his view on consistency and the consequences in an interview: “I always hated those artists who were so consistent and had this sort of unified development; I thought it was terrible. I never worked at painting as if it were a job; it was always out of interest or for fun, a desire to try something. […] When I was struggling financially, when I had trouble with Heiner Friedrich, I couldn’t be with the gallery any longer, and I had to leave. At that time, I became a teacher. I would do different jobs. I didn’t want to have to make paintings I would be paid for, nor did I want to have to be nice to a dealer-although I am very nice.”

Although you as an artist might reject the limitations imposed on you by the demand for consistency, it’s just a lot easier for gallery owners and merchants to pigeonhole you and say, “Artist X is the guy that paints impressionistic visions of LSD trips in oil”. If you’re not consistent, Richter noticed, don’t expect to make money with your art on the short hand. Galleries won’t support you anymore, and only teaching and other jobs will eventually allow you to make a living.

The Beauty of Inconsistency in the Internet Age

So are inconsistent artists doomed forever? Do you have to become a taxi driver wash dishes to support yourself, if you’re not willing to play by the rules of a work- and commerce-centred society?

Hell no! The good news is that we’re living in a Worldwide Wonderland. Each day, thousands of people get connected for the first time to the internet. So if you don’t care too much about gallery owners and merchants and money people and other gatekeepers, you may as well put all the stuff you do on some website and let the people decide. While this is not an easy route to take, it certainly is possible to earn some money and find your bunch of true fans through the web. (Or, if you’re not into money at all, you can just keep your art for yourself and burn it when it annoys you. Richter did that, after trying a whole range of styles and forms of expression many decades ago in Western Germany.)

Of course, the reasons for ignoring the critics are the same as they were before the internet: Trying to be consistent all the time can be to your creativity what’s a tin of bug spray to a cockroach. Fatally killing deadly lethal, that is. Photographer Guy Tal describes the implications of accommodating to the critic’s requirements on his weblog: “A sad consequence of […] narrow-minded criticism is that many would-be multi-talented artists end up crippling their own creative avenues under the dictum that they need “more focus”.”

Dedicating ones time to optimize a certain technique is one thing. Experimenting another. And probably it’s just me, but I see no evil in doing the latter and following your muses. I don’t get the point why even art schools force their applicants to be consistent, if what they should be doing is to encourage experimentation. Only by trying new things and by producing as relentlessly as they possibly can, young artists will be able to bring some change and excitement to the art world. And when you think about artists like Picasso or Rauschenberg, did they care about consistency? Or did they just keep moving, putting out stuff, and kicking some ass?

These actions are certainly easier to take once people already pay millions for your stuff. But it’s nonetheless true (and probably even more so!) for beginning and emerging artists. If the critics hate you, they may be right. Or they may be completely wrong. Think about that, and if you come to the conclusion that the latter is true, just follow your gut and forget about consistency. Because once you look back in life, the greatest time you have is when you forget about trying to please others and just go for the things you really care about. In the end, this will not only make you a better artist, but also a happier person.

Personal note: I am happy to announce the release of my newest photo series, “The Vacations you always wanted: An Inquiry into Escapism”. It was shot between 2003 and 2009 in Austria, Belgium, Colombia, Denmark, El Salvador, Germany, Greece, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, the Netherlands, the USA and Venezuela. Taken with a bunch of different cameras in a bunch of different occasions, I tried to avoid consistency as much as I could. You are cordially invited to view the series over at BLUE LIES. (Due to the large amount of data, please allow half a minute for preloading. Consider it the time you would spend in a traffic jam on the way to a real-world gallery.)

I would love to hear your opinion and thoughts on the series and this post in the comments.

Procrastinate on TASKS, not on your LIFE

While in the 17th century procrastination was only a concern of some overly pious reverends, it has become a main preoccupation of the whole mankind nowadays – especially since the invention of Twitter and RSS feeds, it seems. Everybody is worried about procrastinating on the tasks they should be getting done. In times of ever more efficient machines, human beings apparently should adapt – but instead of doing that, they’ll just idle around.

But consider this: First, machines don’t think. They compute. And second, procrastination is not necessarily a bad thing, as even the ancient Egyptians knew. It can just be a sign of one of the following: Either the task at hand is annoying (and should probably be avoided), or it’s a task whose carrying out still requires some thought. Outsource it to a machine, and you will never get an answer. In contrast, procrastinators generally don’t have problems finishing their stuff – they only decide to put it off… and to provide results “just in time”.

The problem then isn’t procrastination – it’s stressing out. So to prevent this, you could just embrace your inner idler and enjoy procrastinating on tasks by doing other, more enjoyable things: Work on interesting projects you never had the time for (cleaning the kitchen probably doesn’t count!), lie at the beach or, better yet, meet some friends. They will help you to relax and at the same time give you some kind of non-task-related input. This might support your idle brain to process the information it needs to solve the task you’re procrastinating on.

On the other hand, check if you are procrastinating on your life. Way too many people do that. Instead of doing stuff that matters, they just carry out tiny tasks thrown at them by others. While there will always be some tasks you cannot avoid to do – be it at school, at university, at the office, or at home – nothing will prevent you more from living your dreams than to concentrate on the urgent trivia instead of on the important few.

The classical symptom for procrastinating on your life is telling yourself you will “do that trip when you are retired”, “enroll in that course when you find the time”, “pursue your passion when you are financially independent”. During all this time you may be very productive on many minor tasks, but you will be losing your life – instead of taking it into your own hands and making big, probably difficult decisions and changes (that, like everything, start with just one tiny little step).

So as you’re reading this article on The Friendly Anarchist, think about the small and the big escapes you took this hour, today, this week: Were you procrastinating only on your tasks – or on your life?

Personal note: I am currently experiencing a lot of trouble with getting internet access in my house. Until the not so friendly, but certainly anarchistic ISP sends some guys over to fix things up, please be prepared for slow comment moderation, but feel at home like always! Thanks!

The Problem with Providing Value (And an Approach to Idle Blogging)

The value lies in the eye of the beholder This morning, I enjoyed reading a post by Oscar Del Ben about the necessity of providing value in blogging. Think twice about what you want to write, think twice about how to write it, think twice about hitting the “Publish” button – and always have in mind the value you provide. Because people are receiving way too much information already, and you don’t want to mess with them. If you ask for their attention, better bring something noteworthy.

Although I generally agree with this recommendation, it also entails a problem: Value lies in the eye of the beholder. While I enjoy surfing around the comic section of Arthur Magazine from time to time, others may find it completely stupid. But then, I am not much into buying penis enlargement pills, while apparently a lot of other people are. So if you only focus on providing value to other people, you can easily become predictable and boring. I think that’s because everybody is trying to find out about this value thing – and often draws some inspiration from other blogs. While this can lead to the creation of great content, it also may result in producing meaningless repetitions of old stuff that was useful once, but is not anymore. Carlos Miceli referred to this when he advocated to avoid echo online. If your post is just a repetition of a repetition of a repetition, it’s meaningless. Provide a new angle or trash it. Or better still, don’t even start to write it.

This means: Learn to be silent. Silence is the way of the idle blogger, and silence may provide much more value than you think. It saves you work and it saves people time. It’s a win-win situation.
Of course you want people to come to your site, you want to engage in the discussion that’s going on. That’s fine. But be sure to provide new insights. Don’t get distracted by some bloggers that are repeating themselves over and over again. Don’t get dazzled by large numbers of subscribers. Start an information diet, blind the noise out, focus on signals.

And if you decide to really raise your voice, don’t just focus on providing value to others. Because you cannot always know what will be valuable to them. You’re not a market research department. You’re a blogger. And as a blogger, you have the right to be deliberately dilettante and do what sparks your interest. As long as you’re original and honest, and as long as you focus on the quality of your texts in a sense of craftsmanship, you can do whatever you want. (Well, you actually could also copy stuff, be dishonest, and write in an ugly style. But then you would be a spammer, not a blogger.) As Oscar puts it, don’t be afraid of change. Move into new directions and provide new points of view, even though they may appear ridiculous at first. I’m an idler that engages in activism. Is this a contradiction, is it derangement? Or is it a paradox you can live by? Who am I to tell? I just seek to write good posts. Give it a try. If it doesn’t bring you more readers, it will make you a better writer at least.

At the beginning of your blog, you just don’t have a clear readership. Many business bloggers recommend focussing on your target audience. I say: Forget your target audience. People are coming to you from everywhere and you don’t have much control over it: They may be friends looking what you’re up to. They may be employers checking you out before hiring you. They may be twitterers that have never heard of you before. They may be lonely Googlers that yet have to start to engage in a community. Be open to them. Be original. Be honest. Maybe they will connect and maybe they won’t, but in the end, you will never know if you don’t give it a try. You can never be sure what synapses get stimulated by your writings in the brains other people. Just avoid endless repetitions, provide quality over quantity, lay back, and look what happens. This might be a valuable approach to Idle Blogging at last.