By Sheri Radel

Hi, there, Workbook fans. I’m happy to be posting again.

I’m writing this on Easter Sunday and remembering how much I used to love to go uptown in New York City and see the amazing hats and finery worn by the most colorful people in the most colorful city in the world. This memory brings me to the very fine documentary about Bill Cunningham entitled Bill Cunningham New York.  I was fortunate to see this stellar glimpse into a fascinating life spent “seeing,” and ultimately photographing, the aforementioned colorful crowd, or the “rarities” as Bill called them in the film (and believe me, in New York City there is much to see in that department). Responsible for two weekly New York Times photo columns, "On the Street" and the more society-oriented "Evening Hours,” Bill has seen it all and shows no signs of getting off of his Schwinn (his 29^th) any time soon.

The film had me positively inspired. As you watch this character study of a man who has devoted his life to “seeing,” you can’t help but marvel at the veritable encyclopedia of New York society and stylish “regular folks” he has captured, all while riding a bicycle and living in an insanely tiny studio in Carnegie Hall, surrounded by filing cabinets containing his canon of work. From downtown girls in wacky heels to grand old dames in de la Renta, Bill is there to capture them all, with great results that we all get to see each week in the Sunday Styles section of the New York Times (the first section I read, natch).



The documentary is a must see for anybody who is passionate about (in no particular order): photography, creativity, fashion, New York, and true characters who don’t compromise for anybody. But my big takeaway is how Cunningham’s candid street style and society shots are proof of our obsession (and his) with authenticity and gazing at how life is lived. Bill was doing all of this way before social media, where the ordinary often is extraordinary and our voyeuristic-gone-wild pursuit of every habit, every thought, and every photo we can feast upon in this age of “sharing is caring,” is considered the new normal. I’m just fascinated that Bill knew enough about the human condition not only to show us how people dress, but to know enough about all of us that we would want to see those incredible narratives and are equally obsessed with glimpsing into the lives and looks of others. In Bill’s images, we do indeed see every picture telling a story of how we lived and dressed from the 60s until now. Oh and P.S., he still shoots with film. Yes that’s right-FILM.

Bill’s career of seeing really began at Details in 1982, after a career as a milliner. If you were lucky enough to read Details back then (headed by a prolific Annie Flanders), you were privy to an insider’s look at downtown New York life, all of its eccentricity, artiness, and fun. There were pictures from nightlife and fashion from all the cool kids, at a time in New York when greed was good, and Michael Milken and his pals were uptown making deals late into the night. But downtown, great art was being made, and the nightclubs were full of individuals who danced to their own beats, in fabulous fashion, no less. I myself was a young girl in Philadelphia at the time, but I used to buy Details at my local record shop and fantasized about a life surrounded by the beautiful mad ones of New York City.

Bill shot hundreds of fashion stories for the magazine and never took a penny. That’s right, kids. He worked for free. Now I know this is unfathomable for most of us, including present company. But Bill thought that if you don’t touch money, “they can’t tell you what to do, kid.” I guess this was his way to simply do whatever the bloody hell he wanted, and that’s admirable in and of itself. We all know that in advertising, and this is not a revelation, often the money can get in the way of the production of good ideas, of taking risks, and ultimately, being happy in the creative outcome. I’m not at all suggesting we quit our gigs so we can be creatively free, but you have to admit-it has a nice ring to it. (Later on Bill went to the New York Times and surely takes a salary, but he is a simple man who does not require much more than a bicycle and a decent cup of coffee to do his job).

And while doing this notable job, Bill’s ability to see connections or threads when thinking of his weekly page for Sunday Styles is nothing short of amazing. He always bases his street fashion shots around a theme: it could be shoes and legs; it could be trash bag chic; it could be the color pink. This ability to see connections and threads, and ultimately trends, on the mean (but superbly glam) streets of New York is a parable for what all good ad people should do. The best advertising is insightful enough to see these connections and threads in culture and explore the best way to portray them. Because, much like fashion, advertising is a barometer for the times in which we live; you can tell a lot about a culture through its advertising at any particular moment in time. Think of great ads like Apple’s “1984” or Enjoli’s “I’m a Woman” spot: they say so much about where we were culturally. Whether on the verge of a seismic, technological shift or a reversal of gender roles, the best advertising speaks to where we are in the world, and fashion does as well.

Now what in the world does all this mean to you, you may ask? In terms of what you do as photographers and illustrators, you too can take a page from the Bill Cunningham playbook and imagine the world of advertising as a vast jungle not unlike the streets of New York City. What can your eye see if you’re really looking amidst “so much”?  Sometimes I think with the agency model shifting and moving and photographers and print folks wondering how they will survive, we’re looking too much but not really “seeing.”

The reason we hire photographers and illustrators is to collaborate with people to “see” our vision and bring it to life. It’s all about a unique point of view, regardless of whether these images will live in Rolling Stone or on the newest app. If you have a strong point of view, you too can take part in a sort of cultural anthropology, a capturing of a moment in time that was trying to speak to millions (and ultimately getting them to buy something). When I read Details as a young girl, dressed in unconstructed 80s wear, I bought what I saw in the pages of this amazing magazine.  From that point on, I would not rest until I could move to New York. Your job as a commercial photographer is no different than those stalwart pioneers of downtown life. You are charged with getting the masses to buy an idea and ultimately buy a Lexus, a cheeseburger, or a belt. But I think the ad industry has lost its way because for the most part, they have stopped “seeing” and are too busy looking: looking for the coolest new social media construct, looking for ways to get clients to give them more money, and looking for ways to cash in so we can summer in the Hamptons.

I know this is not much different than any other business, but as people in advertising we have a huge opportunity to capture our very own unique moment in time. And as creative professionals in this industry, I challenge you to incorporate a little bit of Bill Cunningham’s vision (or what I am calling the art of seeing) into your next gig. Because beneath all of the triple bids, the chronic last-minute changes, and the endless array of stress, it still should be almost wholly about “seeing” and also seeing things a little bit differently than your competition and capturing it your own way. That’s the art of seeing, kids.

Bill is not necessarily considered a fine photographer (basically point and shoot on the street), but his ability to really “see” rivals that of the best photographers out there, who often make upwards of $50K a day. By the way, Bill was not at all interested in celebrity or fanciness; he was simply interested in showing the clothes, and only if they were somehow intriguing. And his photos are never the least bit indulgent; they are stripped down and free of any real judgment. They exist as pure observations by a man who has spent his life with only a camera, a bicycle, and the chaotic “noise” of New York City in front of him.

As much as I love a set up, well-produced image, I adore the simplicity and unplugged emotion captured on the street; Bill says more about us (you and me) by showing us dodging a puddle in a rainstorm in midtown than most other photographers can with a painstakingly composed image. This film is an important one: it shows a man who has devoted his career (sure there is a whiff of tragedy in his life spent alone) to “seeing” and not much more than that. So on your next free afternoon, go see this film and glimpse a photographer who found so much inspiration on a daily basis in what was around him. We all should take a page from his book and stop just looking and just start seeing again. Go forth and see, my loves. XO

(P.S. It’s not a bad idea to have a uniform a la Bill Cunningham’s blue, French street worker’s smock. I love that he wears what street workers wear in Paris, as he too is a street worker of sorts. I’m just throwing it out there that I once worked with a photographer who always wore suits to sets, and I adored that wearing a uniform was part of how he worked best, and he gained lots of points with me because of it. Just a style thought to leave you with…)

Sheri Radel's Blog

By Sheri Radel

Happy Day after Valentine’s Day to all the lovers out there. I felt that passion would be a fitting topic this week. So here goes.

I’ve done a lot of thinking and writing lately on finding what you love or finding the passion that once ignited your very being, when you first explored what being creative for a living meant to you. Recently, I watched a documentary about Joan Rivers, and regardless of whether her extreme plastic surgery and caustic fashion play-by-plays make you cringe, this woman has had one hell of a ride as a comedian and trailblazer. In her posh New York apartment, she shows us her world, surrounded by drawers full of every joke she has ever written. A touching look at a brave woman who broke through barriers, there’s a part in the film where she proclaims that she went into comedy because “she simply had to, and that there was nothing else she could do.” That’s the way you should feel about creating photography or art of any kind. It’s the only thing you can do. Full stop.

I have a friend who is now forty-two, who has never held a “straight” job in his life. He is an actor and a playwright and has endured many financial setbacks throughout his life. Sure, the thought has crossed my mind on why he has never been able to work 9-5, but I’ve come to respect his resolve and conviction and his inability to deal with office politics, even if it means having to struggle and not take fancy vacations or drive a nice car. Because we all know none of that crap really matters and I’ve come to realize this in my own career as an art buyer.

It’s true that I love producing great ideas, collaborating with a team of people that are tireless and fearless, and creating images that may make it up to a Times Square billboard. I feel beyond fortunate I got to do this at one of the best agencies in the world, a fearless place with brilliant people, where great ideas prevail and never die. But lately I’ve discovered I’ve got a real jones for being a writer, and I’ve left a rather stable job to pursue that dream. I also work on production and consulting projects with clients who inspire me. (A bit of history: I was a Journalism major and always saw a column in my future.) I know this is not an easy path; writers don’t exactly have it easy fiscally, and believe me, that has me scared. (Have you seen my purse collection? Oy.) But I realize that if you are a creative individual, you can only fight it for so long, and that’s my message to all of you talented image makers out there-- stay true to why you got into this business in the first place, regardless of paranoia over where print is headed in a digital age and what social networking has done to communication. There will always be a place for visuals; they are a crucial part of telling a story, and that ain’t going anywhere. The need to tell a story through words and visuals will prevail, regardless of Facebook, Twitter, or some cool micro site.

I realize that because of these seismic shifts in storytelling, this business is harder than it’s ever been. I know it’s tough on commercial artists, but it’s also no prance in the park for agency dwellers these days. We’re all trying to make more with less and keep calm and carry on as we go into meetings with people that are updating their profile pages while you are trying to dig deep into a project and not sabotage release dates. These are crazy times, but you simply have to fight for your talent and be your own champion. Maybe it’s time to shoot something on the weekend that is not part of a commercial project. Maybe you and that stylist friend of yours could shoot a story for some new editorial endeavor you’ve had your peepers on. What are you waiting for, already? DO IT (that was my Carrie Fisher impression from her one woman show).

Some time ago, on my own blog, I talked about shooting an editorial project with some good friends who are way smarter and more creative than I. I felt humbled by the incredible work we were able to do, and I did not earn a penny. The shoot was a fashion spread (another one of my undying passions), and we shot on the streets of Brooklyn into the wee hours. None of us bitched; none of us complained, and none of us ate fancy dinners at a West Hollywood sushi den or stayed at 1000-thread-count hotels. We simply created for the sake of doing something wild and sexy and fantastic. I know that’s challenging when creating commercial work sometimes, so why not go shoot something that makes your heart sing? Or paint something you dreamt about the night before? That’s a passion play, peeps. And we all need some to make us remember why we do this at all, so get to it. (Hint: it’s not for spicy tuna rolls--really, it isn’t.)

Use the amazing people you have met in this business or that really cool-looking girl you met in Starbucks this morning with the poetically crooked nose, aching to be captured by none other than you. Remember Field of Dreams? If you make it, they will come. I believe that to be the case, and I’m sticking to it. Infuse each day with some spark of why you’re waking up in the first place, and I guarantee you, your worries on this social-media-gone-mad generation will work themselves out. Now, more than ever, we have entered an age of pure creativity: with blogs, self-publishing, and social media, we are able to share our thoughts and images with the world. It inspires me that I can write about my mojo and muses and share it with all of my friends, and hopefully, someday that circle of friends will expand. Right now, I’m not sure where life is taking me, and I’m pretty sure fancy meals are not really the ticket for me right now. Yes I quoted a Costner film above. Sue me.

As for my next act, I’m down for making stuff with people who share my passions, humor, and sensibilities, even if that means less money (and less of a purse budget) for now. I remember in the early days of my career, I told my dad I was going to work for a huge agency in New York. At the time, he was beaming with pride that his little girl would have some “real job security” as she moved to the Big Apple. Well, job security is the thing of the past, and millions of laid-off and disgruntled workers have turned an eye on corporate America and started their own businesses; so why not take a risk and do what you love? Oh, and this passion of mine has only made me better at producing because I feel more creative and inspired every day, which can only add to my offerings in this life and beyond.

So let today (it is Valentine’s week in case you have been hiding in Lady Gaga’s egg) be the day you find your heart, and let it take you where you need to be. Hallmark holiday or not, we all need to be in love with something or someone, so let’s start with this thing called “work,” and let the rest figure itself out. We all need to access our inner Joan (laugh if you must) and become confident cheerleaders for our own creativity and actions, regardless of what other people think. I have another friend who recently questioned her long career on Madison Avenue and was thinking of chucking her job and going to India for a year. This was something she had always wanted to do, though the notion of it struck her with fear of disapproval from her peers and prompted a questioning of her sanity. I would say many years ago, that would indeed have seemed a bit crazy. But in today’s precarious work environment, I applaud anybody that can explore those things that make the heart sing. My friend ended up sticking it out in advertising, so I suppose her India will have to wait. But maybe you can find your India in the weeks and months to come or channel that trip-abroad-kind-of-spirit in the work you already do. I hope you had a Happy Valentine’s Day, and may love find you this year, and not just of the male, female, or designer purse variety. XO

Sheri Radel's Blog

By Sheri Radel

Hello, Readers. I’m thrilled to bring you another post, and this one is on a subject you are all familiar with: portfolio shows at (insert agency here).

As an art-buying veteran, I have sat (and noshed) through many portfolio shows, breakfasts, and catered lunches. Cupcakes, a true perk of the job, have made a most-welcome appearance at these events. But I can’t help but wonder what would happen if these forays into viewing your spectacular work could be taken more to a more 2.0 kind of place.

I have spoken to many reps over the years about coming to the agency and crafting "events" around shows with their photographers. (I have had no takers.) For instance, if you are inspired by Jean-Luc Godard and feel your whole creative raison d’être is due in large part to his film oeuvre, why not come to an agency and show a film of his? I say this because many agencies now are interested in fostering a “creative culture” within their walls. So how can you as an artist contribute to that goal while at the same time, have everyone get to know you?

There is a huge opportunity not only to show your work, but to show what inspires you, what makes you tick, and what you may have in common with an art director who just might be a French film fanatic. (Or any other kind of fanatic for that matter; most good creatives are very entrenched in pop culture and would appreciate a respite from the bagel and book show.)

I also love the idea of pitching a show at an agency. Why not ask one of your art-buying pals about hanging a show of your work at his or her place and creating an event around it? Or why not offer to do a mural project (if you are an illustrator) or some kind of permanent installation that goes well beyond the typical calling cards known as portfolio shows?

With the advent of social media, connection is empowering and beyond necessary, and in the shadow of online connecting, in person and authentic connections are becoming sacred. Looking at your book is a great way for people to see your work, but now more than ever, it’s important to connect with potential clients in new and powerful ways. If you host an agency movie night complete with popcorn, you will probably leave quite an impression on people. Or you could go to an agency and give a lecture about photography, your favorite projects, and how you see the world. Or maybe during the holidays you and a couple of your photo peers could offer a special sale of prints at select agencies and donate the proceeds to your favorite charity? Another freebie idea: go on Zazzle or the like and make some tee shirts with a cool image you can give away--people love free stuff.