The Way I See It: Erik Vervroegen

Erik Vervroegen, 47, is international creative director for Publicis Worldwide, based in Paris – the city where he previously headed up TBWA. The Belgian-born creative joined Publicis in 2011 after moving from Goodby Silverstein and Partners in San Francisco. His award-winning work includes campaigns for Nissan, McDonald’s, PlayStation and the New York Times. Vervroegen talks to Diana Goodman about boxing, creative inspiration and why he’s not afraid of dying 

I live at the moment in a rented, furnished place in Paris because I’m travelling so much. I want to see as many Publicis people in as many countries as possible, to build a relationship with these guys and prove that it’s no bullshit – Publicis really does want to help them get better work.

I grew up in Belgium, in the centre of Brussels. My mother was a teacher and my father was a professional bike racer in his early days before he became a professional drinker. As you can imagine, with alcohol, violence and abuse, we were a very happy and harmonious family.

My first memory is the smell of gasoline and oil on the race tracks. The sound of the drag pipes. This is still my favorite smell and the sound I prefer. But, of course, I wasn’t happy as a child. It was not nice at all.

At school, I was teased because I was lonely and shy, but I didn’t let anybody give me a hard time.

I left home when I was 14 and I felt much better from that day. I’d started boxing at 11 or 12 and I stayed for a while with my trainer. Then I quit school at the age of 16 because I really wanted to live life as an independent person and see what life would bring. So I found a job in a supermarket and had a little apartment and trained all day.

At the age of 18, I was very, very lucky to find advertising. By chance, I saw an old-school layout at a friend’s house. You know, the ones they used to do with markers. That friend was working as a layout man in some Belgian agency. To me, that layout looked like art. I asked him what it was and he explained everything I needed to know about advertising. A couple of months later, I was studying at an advertising school in Brussels.

I can’t remember the first advertisement that made an impression on me, but I can remember the feeling. It’s the same feeling I’m looking for today when I look at some work. Something that strikes my brain, my heart and my guts. All at the same time.

I also can’t remember for sure the first advertisement I ever worked on, but it was for some soup, I think, and the ad was a disaster. I came up with a terrible idea and I don’t know why it was sold, but because I was young I didn’t realise how bad it was. On the shoot, everyone could see that it was cheesy and stupid and everything was wrong. But the gods of advertising were protecting me; the client was very happy and I wasn’t in trouble.

I moved to my latest job at Publicis Worldwide because I trust the people that hired me. I believe in their project and vision. Maurice Lévy, Jean-Yves Naouri and especially my partner Arthur Sadoun, who I worked with for six years at TBWAParis.

I would love to stay put [at one agency], but I’m not old enough to do that. I still have lots of things to learn, places and people to meet, different cultures to discover. It scares me to live like that; it keeps me alert, awake. Everything that scares you the most, you have to do. That helps you stay healthy.

I feel at home everywhere I work. In Brussels, Johannesburg, Paris, New York or ’Frisco. I love all these places, and some of the people I have met there, to death.

I don’t know what makes my work distinctive, but when I work with young creatives, I’m trying to teach people to have a diversified portfolio with different genders of communication. And it’s the same with my own portfolio. For example, my work for Nissan and McDonald’s is completely different from the work I have done for PlayStation. I always try to adapt the style of what I’m doing. Sometimes it’s surreal and very visual; sometimes it’s more intellectual; sometimes it’s funny. I’m looking for variety.

There’s not one ad that I’m proud of in particular, because – like most creative people – I still see mistakes. That’s a disease we’ve all got, I think. But if that ad helped a cause in any way, or a client to sell more clothes, or someone to improve, then I’m proud.

My worst experience in advertising has been working with cowards. In general, fear and ego are the most dangerous things in life and that’s what we’re fighting against most of the time. If a great idea is not produced, 90 per cent of the time it’s because of fear. When people are hiding or not fighting for the work, it falls apart. You have to be brave or it doesn’t happen.

New technology is not an issue anymore. I think we’re going back to square one; if an idea is big enough, it can be expressed in different mediums. Before, the youngest creative people coming from a digital background were struggling with print and TV, and old people like me took a long time to get used to the new technology. But now that’s over and the two generations are rocking in harmony.

As a consumer, I guess I react to advertising like everybody else. It has to be elegant, sophisticated, simple, beautiful or striking or super-clever or hilarious or so fresh. Or all of these qualities at the same time.

To inspire creative teams is not that complicated. It’s about being generous and helping people build a better portfolio. Fighting for them, making them famous, giving them confidence. To ‘control’ is a different story. You can’t control them if you are not inspiring, and if they don’t respect you. I prefer to guide them than to control them.

I would say that in every single day there are amazing moments and lots of terrible ones. If you have a great idea; if you win a new business; if one of your junior team gets an award; if you surprise yourself; if the world is getting better; if the Belgian soccer team beats France; then it’s going to be a good day. Then you see the news and you see how fucked up this world is, and your day feels terrible again.

I don’t really watch TV. There are other ways to see what’s happening [in advertising] and I’m not wasting my time with crap just while looking for great pieces. TV is just getting so bad right now, it’s depressing.

The people I most admire are those who are true to themselves. True to other people. It’s better to be hated for who you really are than to be loved for someone you aren’t.

I really respect people who are not lying to themselves. People who are open-minded, who are polite, funny and nice.

How would my enemies describe me? Hum... about enemies, let me say this: fame brings fake friends and true enemies.

The biggest achievement is to accept yourself the way you are. I’m not there yet but I’m working hard on it.

I think awards are a good thing. They are necessary. It reminds us that it is possible to do great work even if your client is very difficult. It gives confidence to the young creatives, and confidence is priceless in this industry.

When you start judging, you are generally very excited; you give each piece of work lots of attention. But after 30 minutes, you are bored of that crap and start judging like a consumer. From 15 to 20 seconds of attention, you are moving down to two or three maximum. Like flipping through a magazine. I’m looking for the kind of work that takes me by the hand for a longer journey – that will make me laugh or cry or think that I should go back to advertising school.

You don’t have to ‘believe’ in the product like a Christian believes in Jesus Christ to do your job, but if you truly believe in a product you will deliver better work, for sure.

I’m not sure about products I would never work on. Maybe cigarettes. As an ad man, you’re not a surgeon, you’re an ad man; we are who we are and we have to deliver. And sometimes you’re doing good things for planet Earth like Amnesty or AIDES [a French NGO fighting HIV/AIDS] and sometimes you’re doing products that are not very good and taking the money. And you’re not the perfect person you think you are.

I honestly don’t care if people like me or not. I consider myself a trainer. My job is to make you better. My job is to make you an enduring creative. A marathonian of the idea. And, to get you there, I might ask you a lot. I might make you sweat. But in return, I will give you a lot.

I absolutely do not regard advertising as an art form. Art does not have time or money constraints. You don’t have a client briefing when you are making art, or a list of dos and don’ts. You don’t have to test your piece to see what consumers or potential buyers will think.

Advertising is trying to create something decent with tons of constraints. Fear being the most destructive of them all.

In terms of the amount of money that is spent and earned in the industry, I’m ashamed when I see a lazy coward making lots of money. Never when I see a brave, hard worker making some money.

I’m still totally into sports training, four or five times a week in the morning. I need that in my life to keep my balance right. But I’m from Belgium, so when I drink, I drink a lot. I don’t drink for two months, then I have 15 beers in a night and I’m very happy. The next morning I’m in the gym, sweating that alcohol out of my body.

Yes, I’ve had therapy. I did, for a long, long time.

The most expensive thing I’ve ever bought was a 53 Harley chopper.

What is the appeal of motorcycles? As you know, my father was a motorcycle racer, so I guess it helps. I was born in a garage full of bikes: Triumphs, Saroléa (Belgian), Motobi (Italian)... If you don’t like bikes or girls (or men), check your pulse, you might be dead. I think everything about motorcycles is sexy, just like rock’n’roll.

I truly don’t think my background has affected my desire to have children. First of all you need to find the right partner and secondly, you need to be ready for it. I don’t want to have a child just to feel better; I want to be completely available for that little human being, to give him the time and attention he deserves. I would really love to do it, but at the moment I don’t have the time or the right partner.

My interests outside work are fighting, running, sweating, painting, riding, kissing, loving.

I hate politics, especially in advertising. I just don’t believe in that shit; who does?

My greatest weakness is that I’m a stupid, naïve romantic. It’s also my greatest strength. Sometimes it’s put me in terrible situations, but other times it’s been fantastic.

I last cried... on Saturday. It’s a very good example of my being stupid, naïve and romantic. I was at work, listening to Bruce Springsteen’s Incident On 57th Street, and I started to cry because it was so beautiful. I was laughing at myself, but I listened to it 10 times in a row.

What makes me really angry is injustice, according to my own values.

What gives me real pleasure is love and nice people.

The greatest human invention is the ability to not take yourself too seriously.

My favourite emotion… is laughing to tears.

Do I believe in God? Absolutely, the higher power.

I’m not afraid of dying anymore. When I was younger, I was very concerned about that. I was obsessed about achieving some goals before I died. Then I realised that death is on a more spiritual level and I accepted the idea that you can be gone tomorrow. I’m totally at peace with that now and not afraid of it.

I have no idea where I would like to be buried; perhaps next to my bike.

If I could relive my life, I would try something different, like a career in mechanics, art or sport.

I would love to be a surgeon, like everybody else, but I don’t have the brain for it.

In the end, what really matters... is that you tell all of your demons to go fuck themselves, and live your life with pride. That’s what I really believe.