I went to a party last evening to mark the launch of “The King of Madison Avenue”, Ken Roman’s new biography of David Ogilvy.
As book parties go, and I don’t get to that many, this one was splendiferous. It was held in a glittering apartment 43 stories above Manhattan, overflowing with paintings, prints, sculpture, books, even a film of Ogilvy himself on a monitor in the library. I think the great man would have felt very much at home. As for me, later, after I got back to Katonah, I felt as though I’d been on vacation.
Ben Rosen, who with his wife Donna put the event together, called the evening to order about 7:15 and introduced Ken who then made a few remarks about the book and Ogilvy himself.
Ken’s premise is that there never has been, or will be, anyone the business who changed advertising in the ways Ogilvy did. He has a point. But in some quarters he’ll get an argument from fans of Bill Bernbach, Leo Burnett, Jay Chiat, Howard Gossage, and the Jewish/Italian ad mafia who authored the ‘creative revolution’ of the 60’s and 70’s. And I’m not even counting men like Stanley Resor and Albert Lasker who staged the first creative revolution in the era before television.
Bernbach, however, is the most likely rival for the crown that’s been bestowed on Ogilvy by Roman. Their styles were different but they shared more than casual observers might guess. Both Bernbach and Ogilvy were copywriters. Both were sworn enemies of advertising's conventional wisdom. Both built agencies which survived their quirks (and themselves), became global businesses, and thrive today. They were of the same era, came into the business at about the same time. And both were born in 1911 - Ogilvy in Surry, Bernbach in the Bronx.
The agencies they founded swept the awards shows year after year. But while Ogilvy’s advertising was ‘up market’ and elite, Bernbach’s ads were earthy, and street-wise. Ogilvy’s early fame was linked to Rolls Royce, Commander Whitehead (Schweppes) and the man in the Hathaway shirt. Bernbach made his reputation on advertising for Volkswagen, Ohrbach’s and Levy’s rye bread. Ogilvy advertisements had a cultured, country club voice. Bernbach’s advertising came from somewhere in the Rockaways.
So what is do you make of two brilliant originals with different voices that both worked at the cash register? The common thread, I think, is originality – the ability to bring a fresh set of eyes to a product, see it in a new light, and say something both relevant and surprising in its behalf. Originality doesn’t always generate brilliant advertising but it’s a good place to start.
In addition to hosting the party, the Rosen’s went an extra mile and gave a copy of Ken’s book to each of us who attended. At home I got about 25 pages into it before starting to nod. I confess I’m hooked already.
