In the final rehearsal for a concert last Saturday, the choir sang the most challenging and beautiful piece. We all knew that we did not give a good account: voices were nowhere near together; crucial entries were missed. At the end, the conductor talked about a couple of specific points of tempo and dynamics. He said nothing about the ensemble or the errors.
The performance later that evening was superb. The conductor had understood that he did not need to say anything: his choir would recognise the major shortcomings, and sort it out for themselves. A lesson in conducting, and in situational leadership.
Email this morning from Sofitel. Looks like they are trying to clean their database and to start a loyalty programme. I couldn’t help noticing a particularly masculine bias to the image (the men standing in suits, the women looking up in glamorous adoration). Then I look at the data capture form, and it’s formatted for French addresses, without any validation on the input. It’s been pre-filled, just to emphasise how ill-suited it is for the UK. And just in case I’m left in any doubt, the title used to address me is ‘M’ for Monsieur.
I get a very clear message from this: we’re French, we might be sexist, we don’t understand how name and address data work outside our country, and we don’t really mind what you put in our data capture form.
Just because you’ve translated the copy, doesn’t mean you’ve got a cross-border campaign.
Thanks to my friend Peter Frings for pointing out this one …
I’m going to an exhibition in London tomorrow called mediapro, whose website headline is ‘the future of integrated communications’. Not sure it believes its own copy though. First it says that “integrated marketing communications is finally at the tipping point of becoming a realistic ambition” – so, erm, not quite with us yet then? And then it admits that the exhibition is “divided into four sub-events”.
You’ve not really grasped this one chaps, have you? Do let me know if I can help …
In all the conversations about Manchester United’s manager and their disenchanted player Wayne Rooney (Rooney wants to leave, manager Ferguson feels betrayed) there’s a little snippet that hasn’t got much attention. Apparently as the story started to get very public, Rooney was injured on the training field – had to be carried off on a stretcher – after a ‘tackle’ by fellow player Paul Scholes. I’m sure the fact that Scholes is a revered and passionate player at the heart of the team who has played for Man Utd for most of his career, was just one of those amazing coincidences, and tells us nothing about the strength of feeling in the rest of the team …
Come on Next, you can do better than this. An email inviting me to enter a baby modelling competition? What possible transactional data are you using for this? Why are you sending it to a bloke anyway?
I read on, and find there are two categories in the competition, based on the age of the baby. Go on, tell me that nobody thought of how that might relate to purchase data too?
Worst of all, there’s no acknowledgement, anywhere, of the possibility that this might not be directly relevant to me, or why it’s been sent.
Great example of how to use a nice creative idea to disenchant and alienate your customer base.
Interesting to see how some retailers are starting to experiment with foursquare (the people who made the news recently with their concept of becoming the ‘mayor’ of a location by checking in the most often). It’s still too clunky though. Apart from having the software on your mobile phone (which means having the right kind of phone in the first place), you still have to log in to the programme, and then ‘check in’ to the location. And whilst the GPS on your phone might narrow things down a little, it seems to me it’s neither quick nor seamless.
What you could do is create a unique QR code for point of sale material in each of the locations. Bingo – point your camera at the QR code, and it will log in and check in as a single process. Job done. Well, assuming you have the right kind of mobile device …
Here’s the dropdown list for Titles that you see when you register on the Royal Opera House website. I wonder how many Dowager Marchionesses there are on their database? And what exactly is ‘W Baron’?
An interesting job for the data quality team. Excuse me, are you really a Princess?
Unaddressed plain brown envelope hits the floor today with the headline “What’s wrong with this envelope?”. Inside the letter headline is “And what’s wrong with this letter?”. The long (beautifully written) copy letter from Cancer Research UK starts by explaining why it’s been sent this way. It then talks about how response rates to door drops are declining.
I love the way it explains itself, and there are some delightful touches in the later part of the letter (at the bottom of page 3 “The fact you’ve chosen to read this far, says a lot about you …”). I like the acknowledgement of the reader’s intelligence (and by implication, of their involvement).
At the same time I wonder if this existential, self-aware approach might not work quite as well with the audience as it did with the marketing team? I’m guessing this is a test, and it would be very interesting to see how it performs.
Diapason (pronounced ‘die-a-pay-zen’): Database on the Internet – A Practical Application for Small Organisations and Non-profits. Also one of the primary sounds or stops on a church organ.
Launching quietly today, a new kind of marketing database developed for UK charities. It’s software as a service, so no upfront costs, no long-term licenses or commitments. It’s aimed to help small charities to communicate effectively with their donors, to give them the marketing functionality they need, at a price they can afford. For the very small and the start-ups, it’s free.
This is based on work we’ve been doing for SolarAid, so we think the need is there. We’re about to find out.
The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra is full of outstanding musicians. Watching them play, I realise that a distinctive common feature of the players is that their beautiful sound, virtuoso dexterity and sheer musicianship, are executed in almost complete stillness. Watch the first horn play a difficult line, and the only detectable movement is from the three fingers that touch the keys. Excellence does not need showmanship. Sometimes excellence demands stillness.
In the final rehearsal for a concert last Saturday, the choir sang the most challenging and beautiful piece. We all knew that we did not give a good account: voices were nowhere near together; crucial entries were missed. At the end, the conductor talked about a couple of specific points of tempo and dynamics. He said nothing about the ensemble or the errors.
