Photograph by Mark Gilliland
When you think of the advertising business, it might conjure up memories of Bewitched's Darrin Stephens presenting a new concept while his obsequious boss, Larry, studies the client's reaction. Or maybe the misogynistic boy's-club stylizations of Mad Men, where the business itself takes a back seat to … the back seat. But in reality, people in the ad world usually don't wear thin-lapelled suits and go through cigarettes like old flames. They're artists, many of whom managed to break into the ad business without selling their souls—or, if they had to, found clever ways to sell them.
Tia Liston, an art director at Advertising Savants, says she likes to keep creating during her off-hours, when she doesn't have to think so hard. Creative juices don't come only in concentrate. "It's nice to go into a drawing class and know that there's no pressure," she says. "You are the only person you need to please." She's also taken bookbinding and printmaking classes. "I found myself making hand-bound books for presentations at the office," she says. "Nowadays, it's mostly photography. As part of my art degree in college, I was exposed to photography, painting, drawing, sculpture and ceramics."
Sometimes, life initiates art. Max Scharf, 74, is a successful painter who got his feet—and paintbrush—wet in the advertising field. Long retired from the business, Scharf nowadays is influenced more by Monet than money. Back when he ran his own advertising company, the artists were more likely to design peace signs than corporate logos. "Our company was very young," he explains. "A lot of these artists were really up with the times, and you're talking about the flower-child situation." He laughs. For Scharf, there were only two degrees of separation between business and expressionism. "In my corporate life," he reveals, "I would take my camera along on all my travels. I knew that someday I would paint what I'm photographing."
For some, creating art and creating ads are both natural impulses. Ad Savants' Steve Swartz remembers an experience that would prove prescient. "Looking back on it," he says, "I didn't realize it at the time, but I entered a poster contest in third grade for water conservation. I guess that was kind of my first foray into advertising. There's just something for me that's really cool about an idea that can affect people." Ultimately, Swartz says, he sees his job as a way an artist can make a living and lead his own life, rather than follow the adjective "starving." And he points out, "It's even more challenging than being a fine artist, because you can't do exactly what you want."
After hours, Swartz isn't quite the nonstop artisan that Liston is—but he doesn't go into neutral, either. "Cars have always been a big part of my life," he admits." My fixation started at a very young age. As a kid I was always playing with Matchbox, Hot Wheels and Tonka. I still have most of them—a fact that is not lost on my parents, considering that they are still in their basement."
In order to avoid cracking under pressure, writer Greg Shadwick of Core Advertising puts his creative eggs in several different baskets. "I make a lot of electronic music," he says, "and I also play with a bunch of people in town. But even that stuff, one way or another, kind of ends up in what I do during the day."
Some people in the ad world have imaginations that work overtime. For others, after a day spent coming up with bright ideas, the light bulb over their head could use a change. Trina Christensen, an art director at Weintraub Advertising, likes to spend her evenings art-free. "I used to do more at home. But just doing art for art's sake—I get enough at work. After I do daytime stuff and freelance stuff, I'm pretty much done." She's just as likely to be helping her husband put up a deck as doodling on the computer.
Swartz, by contrast, has boundless energy and drive at the end of the day. How does he wind down? Well, it may not quite be fine art, but "there is nothing in the world quite like the sound of an F1 car at full song," he beams. "It brings tears of joy to my eyes. No, really, it does. I actually have a couple of CDs that are nothing but the sound of F1 cars. How sick is that?"
