April 2007 Archives

The greatest account in Romanian advertising

If CONNEX was still alive, it would have turned 10 years old earlier a few days ago, in april. Looking back now, I’m sure that CONNEX was the greatest account in Romanian advertising, bar none. It attracted the best people and the best agencies into a Bermuda Triangle of überpower ecstasy and a free-falling nightmare somewhere in between a tango dance floor of swift seduction and a fight club basement of bone breaking clashes.

When I say it was the greatest I say the most challenging and spectacular, the most influent and visible. Many were brought into the spotlight by this crusadeous account (people as well as agencies) and quite a few were wiped out — some tasted both. This is why the stories about it come in only two colors: exalted reality-distorted white and still-in-denial traumatic black.

As seen from outside, in its final period the account seemed to collapse eroded by confusion and drifted blindly, turned into a ghost-ship wreck, until it finally disappeared.

I’m a lucky bastard: I was blessed with the privilege to be one of those who could afford getting addicted to this life-changing (for me, at least) drug twice: once briefly at the very beginning (1997) while working for BBDO, and the again during 2001-2002 period, while working for D’Arcy DMB&B.

I never thought about horses, not more than 3 minutes, anyway — even if one of the recent posts is about sidewalk riding in Moscow. Until a dear friend of mine managed to convince me to get out of the city this weekend — not an easy job, people really knowing me are probably shocked already — and go see some horses.

I started by curiosity and I ended up loving every minute of it. Better late than never, they say.

A, there's a previous nowhere.

"There are many that know, but only few of them understand"

A.G. Weinberger swamped Spice Club with blues tonight — and I had the pleasure of meeting him.

The concert was part of his 'Spreading The Blues and looking for the players' tour.

On sidewalks in downtown Moscow

Three nights walking the commercial boulevards in Moscow, three nights the horseback riders made their appearance. Girls on horses. Clip clop, clip clop, right on the sidewalks, among the passers-by. On the first night one of them asked me for money — I didn't have any money changed into local currency yet so I gave her nothing. Tough luck.

First night I was totally surprised and managed to take a shot only after they passed by.

Second night I wasn't that stupefied anymore but the light was not so great.

The third night I managed to ambush them in front of a well-lit store window.

This all leaves me with a few unanswered questions.

What the hell was that all about, riding horses on downtown Moscow's sidewalks? Are those girls walking their extra-large house-pets at night? Are they elite of tramps, the cavalry of beggars? Nobles? Is this posh leisure, green locomotion, fucking coolness, extreme-sport, fashionable eccentricity?

Sure. Every car might be a cab!

Here's the story. For four days, I've never took a taxicab in Moscow. For four days my guides used the following routine instead: raised a hand towards the cars riding on the first lane of the highway/boulevard/street and a car (often two or even three) stopped. After a very short negotiation we jumped in and we're gone. Money changed hands, relaxed chatter happened between the fronts sits (in Russian) and eventually we were delivered at the destination.

They were not cabs. They were not previously hired rides. It was all kind of paid hitch-hiking!

You can use any car as a taxi

—Hey, this is Moscow, they say. It would take 30, maybe 45 minutes for a cab to show up with these traffic jams. And who cares about taxicabs, anyway? We have our own scheme. You can use any car as a taxi. 100% efficient: no phone calls on hold, no waiting. Arm raised, cars stop. Better.

—Well, I replied, every capital has taxis and I never — not ever — seen something like this.

—Yes, but this is Moscow, they replied. This is our way.