Every user is an editor

Let’s admit it: readers have always been masters of their own destinies.

Going back to the beginning of sectionalized newspapers, we know well that readers often started their newspaper reading session by pulling a section apart and going to it first: usually sports, but also local or lifestyle.  In fact, for decades in newsrooms across America, we would hear the editors reminding everyone about the importance of allowing “the couple at breakfast” to split the newspaper: he reads sports, she reads the Women’s section (yes, that’s the way it was).

During the 1980s, when front pages became more design oriented and those famous promo boxes migrated to the top of the page, over the newspaper’s logo, we provoked readers with beautiful images and catchy headlines to the best of the inside: usually sports and entertainment (since those had the best visuals).

Then came the 1990s, online editions——the beginning of the end of content rhythm as dictated by the editors, and the start of the users’ “in charge” attitude about where they went first, second or third.

The click and go generation

The average newspaper online edition offers a variety of headlines and summaries. We pick and choose. We click and go.  We move at our own pace, based on our preferences and habits, and quit when our hunger for information is satisfied for that session.  We may revisit the online edition several times a day, picking at headlines and stories at random.

No doubt about it, we have created a generation of users who are impatient, undisciplined and who enjoy playing the role of editor.

Our best intentions to package things and to offer a reasonable content flow fall flat on the keyboards.

Now things are about to get even better for the users who love to play editors, and not so good for the editors who would prefer users following a set pattern of movement as they travel thorugh a publication.

iPad navigation: send me to the moon and back

With the advent of the iPad, we now will put our publications out there on the small screen, and perhaps even customized front pages and covers to cater to specific audience preferences

In the case of magazines, the multicover concept is a sure thing, in my opinion.  So, if you don’t like the “story of the week” according to the friendly editor, then keep moving and you will find the cover story that suits your fancy. Click on it and go there.  Once you finish, decide where you wish to go next.

Of course, it is very possible to browse thru a newspaper or magazine in perfect order, but editors who truly believe this will happen are having early iPad dreams.

So, what’s the editor planning an iPad edition to do? Create strategies that offer constant opportunities for users to know where they are, what they may be missing, and, of course, what they have already sampled.

There is no chance to turn the ear of the page here and tuck the publication away on your nightstand till you return to it.

Although I can imagine that someone is already dreaming up the software that will provide “reminders” of where we left off with our reading and guide us to the next item.

It is one more thing to add to the list of items we discuss in pre-iPad launch workshops.

Every instructor an author

Pure Design may be up for an author’s update in 2011

Macmillan, a textbook publisher, has announced a new software that will allow college instructors to rewrite textbooks by substituting new material for what the author wrote.

This gives the “textbook update” an entirely new twist.

L. Gordon Crovitz, former Wall Street Journal publisher, is right when he writes that “the integrity and authenticity that a single author provides should not be lost.”

I remember during my years teaching university level courses that I constantly updated material for my students, but did so thorugh my lectures, not by rewriting the textbooks we used.

By the way, I am anticipating a total update of Pure Design perhaps for 2011, just in case any profs out there are already rewriting it!

What happened to handwritten letters?

I still keep a two-page typewritten letter from the doyenne of German journalism,Marion Gräfin Dönhoff, urging caution during the redesign of Die Zeit

When was the last time you received a handwritten letter thru the mail?

Well, I got one such letter last October, from a family friend, who still believes in handwritten notes and letters, which recipients like me much appreciate.

As I check my delivered mail at home, I usually make a pile (to my left) of all the junk mail and advertisement (an ever growing pile of wasted paper, stamps, etc.), then I make a middle pile for bills that still arriva via the US Post Office to my Tampa home.  As I move through all the correspondence, I am unconsciously waiting for a letter, preferably handwritten, addressed to me, with the return address of someone I know.  It seldom happens.

It is all emails these days, or greetings and catch up news thorugh Facebook or Twitter.  Birthday and greeting cards come via Yahoo, or American Greetings.

So, it is no wonder that the US Post Office is in trouble.  On March 2, the Postmaster General John Potter announced that major cuts, including an end to weekend delivery service, would be needed to prevent a projected $238 billion loss over the next decade.

Sorry to hear that, but I understand.

Ironically, as I do research for my 40 Years/40 Lessons series, I am often digging into our rich Garcia Media archives, where fat folders rest against each other in our filing cabinets.  I find myself stopping for long periods, reading actual “letters” I wrote to clients during the course of a project, and the ones they sent to me.  It is a joy to see how we communicated then, perhaps a more formal way of addressing each other, with better writing and obviously more time to reflect upon what was written, or to process what was written to us.

This is why I am happy that my files are rich in traditional-style letters, like a memorable one from that doyenne of German journalism, the late Marion Gräfin Dönhoff,, and former chief editor and columnist for Die Zeit.  At the time of that memorable redesign, Ms. Gräfin Dönhoff, already in her 80s, was still very much an active part of the staff of the liberal weekly with which she had had a 60-year-association.

The newsroom at the time was not so happy with the design changes coming to their newspaper, but Ms. Gräfin Dönhoff, always a visionary, knew that changes were necessary.  What a surprise to receive a two-page typewritten letter from this highly respected journalist: “I ask you to proceed with caution,“ she wrote. “Die Zeit is a newspaper of many traditions, and we feel that, while change is necessary, we must preserve a lot of what has made this newspaper great.“

I followed her advice.  I still keep the letter.

TheMarioBlog post #501

To blog or not to blog: that was the question

I always say that I was one of the last to join blogomania .  Although many had urged me to write a blog, it took Ron Reason’s powers of persuasion, during a joint visit to Lagos, Nigeria, to make me give it a try.

I think “thanks” are due to Ron, as it has been an exciting time waking up each day and pondering the question: what will I blog about today?

Some days are clear cut “blog days”: the launch of one of our projects, a major media happening (such as the launch of the iPad), or an interview with an interesting member of our industry whose thoughts and opinions I consider of interest.  Other days, you let the dangerous “stream of consciousness” take over. On those days,I follow inspiration while running, or center on a quote from an article of interest.  At times, I become restaurant reviewer, or simply tell you about my grandchildren.  And, of course, this year, I occasionally appear with a segment of 40 Years/40 Lessons, my “sort of career memoir”. Prepare for an upcoming segment, Consultant.

Blogging has become a part of my day, and those who know Mario know that once something gets into my routine, then I usually get down and do it.  Like my daily running, the writing of the blog is therapeutic, but, more importantly, it allows me to learn something new everyday.

Trained as a journalist, I value words.  I also know how difficult it is to write, so the daily calisthenics of my blog allow me an opportunity to play with words, edit myself (not always successfully), but, more importantly, to be publisher, editor, reporter, designer, graphic artist and everything else.  As a journalism student in the 60s, I never imagined that this could be possible, unless you owned your own weekly in Montana.

You make the difference

However, the most personally gratifying part of writing this blog is you and your interest and input.  Although we don’t get many posted comments here (something that I ponder from time to time), I do get dozens of daily email messages from you. You encourage me to do more of this (videos, for example, and, yes, I know I am behind with TheMarioClassroom series), or to tell more about a project (don’t people ever get tired of hearing the story of The Wall Street Journal redesigns?), and, if emails are an indication, what you all like the most are case studies: a project is completed, and we tell you how it went.

Keep those messages, but post some of them here, to get the conversation going.

Oh, life before the blog…..

I often dream of drafting up blog entries for things that happened in the BB era (before blogs).  I can only imagine what it would have been like to tell you about this, for example:

1. The Wall Street Journal presentation (yes, here we go again, you get a WSJ annecdote)—We were ready to do a presentation of three models of the WSJ, when it was ready to introduce color in 2000.  There was the tame, modest model, and the middle of the road one, and then the one where we went the extra adventurous mile and put color behind the entire Wha’s News panel.  The then CEO of Dow Jones, Peter Kahn, walked into the room, and shortly after saying hello, took a look at the wall, pointed at Model C and said: “I like this one.“

Of course, a moment of moments. That was it. To this day, the champagne color drapes the What’s News column.  One of those instances that you wish to put inside the bottle you carry with you, with the good mementos——or pehaps the topic of a blog, if there had been one.

2. Die Zeit and German elegance-—There I was, doing the 9th prototype of Die Zeit, that wonderfully informative and smart German weekly.  We had paid attention to a thousand details, and then came a voice from the audience of editors at this presentation: I don’t think that an American designer could ever understand German elegance.

Silence.

My defenses down.  What to say? What to do?  Catch the next Lufthansa flight out of Hamburg?

“Ok, you may be right,“ I said. “Maybe you show me what German elegance is all about.“

They did. A full protocol of ideas.  The next prototype apparently showed German elegance. It is still there, Die Zeit, perhaps one of the most elegant newspapers I have ever done.

I will recall other unbloggables in the midst of this busy day in Paris. Will update.

Let me hear from you

But more importantly, let me hear from you today: what would you like more of? What can we do better to serve you?

Until then, good day, and let’s keep blogging.

TheMarioBlog post #500

Accepting yet another revolution in our midst—not easy for some

With the iPad we say good bye to the static and linear, and hello to a pop up book of storytelling possibilities:

As another week starts, and as we are totally involved in discussions about the introduction of the iPad with a variety of newsrooms, I can’t help but think that, suddenly we are in the midst of this highly influential but relatively small new gadget, and, yet, so many practicing editors I know have NOT fully accepted the presence of online in their worlds.

How are these same editors going to advance beyond online editions and into iPad editions?

Not that I have an answer to this, but I have already heard enough about the doubts of these ultra conservative editors to know that we will have to create sensitivity workshops to deal with this aspect of whatever program we offer for iPad introductions.

Suddenly, the past takes center stage for me. I recall my experiences in newsrooms across the world when major changes took place there.

Editors are NOT necessarily the most progressive people when it comes to change—-especially of the technical kind.

First, the color revolution

When color was first introduced to newspapers, in the late 1970s for most, early 1980s for a majority, it was common to sit in a newsroom and hear opinionated editors voicing their anti-color beliefs.

“Color will cheapen the core of what we are,“ would say one editor.

“Color is for the tabloids, for papers who cater to the uneducated,“ would say the other. “No serious newspaper will fully embrace all that color.“

(Meanwhile, the management of the newspaper was embarking into major investments to get color presses ready and running!)

And so, editors were dragged in the proverbial kicking and screaming mode that is now a cliché, but so true.  In typical fashion, not only did they embrace color, but soon enough we had to move in with the color use brigade to control abuses of color,  as many liked color so much that they resorted to doing Carmen Miranda samba numbers on their pages.  By the time, USA Today arrived (1982) any newspaper that did not have a weather map in all color (which in summer can be all yellow and red hues) went shopping for one quickly.

Newspaper editors usually go thru three major mood swings when it comes to something new: first, rejection of the new idea; second, professional acceptance ; third, ownership of the idea. “I was all for changing the logo from the start,“ proclaims the editor of the newspaper during the gala introduction of the new look and new logo, don’t mind that he was the first one opposing prototypes that did anything but KEEP the old logo.

Similar reactions were voiced when the first of the classic broadsheets, as in The Wall Street Journal Europe and Asia, moved to tabloids.  Again, the change had doubters at first, then joiners, then, voilá, “we always thought tabloid” reactions.

Along came online editions

When online editions established themselves as “here, now and forever,“ again, at first edtiros gave us the usual lines:

“It is not news till it appears in print.“

“Nobody wants to read on a screen, scrolling up and down into an endless pit of type”

“Online eliminates surprises. We all like to run into that story on page 17 that is hidden, but good. No such surprises online.“

In this case, however, many editors went along with this kind of reasoning——for too long!  The result? Well, we are all aware of the result. A stampede-like rush to recognize that online is, indeed, here forever, and that people DO read on a screen (do they ever? If the Poynter EyeTrack study is an indicator, more stories are read in their entirety online than in print), and that WE all had to do something about streamlining operations, integrating print/online, and realizing that life for the journalist in the newsroom (should I say, for the storyteller?) would never be business as usual.

iPad in the horizon

So now come the tablets.

The iPad is so far the most prominently heralded, and it is about to make its grand entrance.

I hear the rumblings of that initial opposition again.

“Why would someone have an iPad, an iPhone and a laptop? Which would be better to read the news?“

(This editor usually thinks that nothing beats ink on paper and the experience of reading a newspaper or magazine that you hold in your hands, fingers touching paper).

Then, comes the natural confusion: what would I put on the iPad edition that is NOT already on my online edition?

Let’s not forget the tech guys, please

If we are talking reminiscing about the introduction of new things in our business, then let us not forget those technology guys and gals.  They become protagonists and take center stage when technical innovations come to the front.

They did when color first appeared.

They are the ones who knew how color ink landed on the page, and therefore were privvy to what could and could not be done.

True to form, the techies of the times loved the word NO.

Designers would dream up color fantasies, but the techie would say: No way you can do that.

The list of CAN”T DO was always longer than the list of CAN DO.

And we would sit there, feeling impotent, as we did not know the intricacies of color printing: the techies always had the last word———usually NO.

Funny, I hear the same now about the iPad, with the techies holding back, playing it super safe (maybe this is wise at the start) and creating a little tension in those meetings when eager editors and designers meet the cautious techies.

So, we are likely to see a lot of very plain beta versions of iPad publications in the early stages.  It was the same when papers converted from hot to cold type, or black and white to color. I have lived thru these transitions.

Maybe we all should have learned something from those experiences, mainly: be adventurous, try and fail, regroup and reorganize, try it again.

The potential of the iPad is too tremendously big to go out with just a flip page by page of the publication as we learn to use the new gadget.

Read on, as Apple is putting together guidelines for those entering the world of iPads.

One iPad guideline to ponder upon

Don’t miss this piece about guidelines for those contemplating the creation of applications for the iPad.

I have re-read this statement, which I think hits the nail on the head:

“According to Apple, the best iPad applications: downplay application UI so that the focus is on content; present content in beautiful, often realistic ways; and take full advantage of device capabilities to enable enhanced interaction.“

Remember the words capabilities and enhanced.

I tell my clients to think of the pop up book analogy.  Those who have read bedtime stories to their children, know that, unlike the flat book that tells the story and requires that the person reading become an actor, doing intonations, changing voices and accents, etc., the pop up book comes with built in drama, theatrics, if you will.  As each page is turned, the child is surprised by the image that jumps out of the page. Nothing linear about it, or static. It moves. It rocks. So, I think, will the iPad when used to its full storytelling potential.

Storytelling with further potential than the power of the word (which, by the way, continues to be very powerful).

I can imagine fiction writers of the future who will write their work already thinking of how it will be “enhanced” for iPads. Not a bad thing. I can also see it done for existing literature.  We are not talking just about Harry Potter type stories, but everything from a Shakesperean play to a Sinclair Lewis realistic novel.

For iPad to truly do what it is supposed to do, there must be enhancement and interactivity, two highly desireable qualities for almost every story.

Here is how the Apple’s guidelines address the issue:

Enhance Interactivity (Don’t Just Add Features)

The best iPad applications give people innovative ways to interact with content while they perform a clearly defined, finite task. Resist the temptation to fill the large screen with features that are not directly related to the main task. In particular, you should not view the large iPad screen as an invitation to bring back all the functionality you pruned from your iPhone application.

So let’s get everyone together in the room: the storytellers, the designers, the editors and the techies (don’t forget marketing and advertising, please), and let’s learn from the mistakes of the past and move forward positively knowing that the iPad (or a similar tablet) are likely to offer us the most profound and significant change in our mode of operation.

Embrace it.  Discover it.  Go for trial and error——and tell the techies in your midst that you know it may be tough, but you wish to try it, anyway.

Like in the pop up books: surprise!

Well, you don’t really have to be so radical!

On the other side of the spectrum, as we deal with the introduction of the iPad, are those who say “good riddance to print” and declare that they ONLY wish to work with the iPad or other tablets.

Not so quickly, I say. Print is not dead,  print is not dying; ink on paper will be part of the offering—-but only that, a part of the whole.

But Craig Mod, a self-titled computer programmer, book designer and book publisher, thinks differently, declaring that: “Print is dying. Digital is surging. Everyone is confused. Good riddance.”

What I like about Mr. Mod’s analysis is his statement that content is king, and that instead of arguing about pixels versus paper, as many print aficionados often do, it is more useful to focus on whether the technology is a good match for the content.  Mr. Mod let us believe that the positives we attribute to what he calls the “physicality” of printed products, particularly books, is not really so grand .  Instead, he argues that it doesn’t really matter which vessel we choose to read on, since the content will always be king.

Amen, and something to remember for every editor arguing that “print only “ is where it’s at for information.

Read all about it:
http://bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/05/a-former-book-designer-says-good-riddance-to-print/?partner=yahoofinance

TheMarioBlog post #499

Reading, ‘riting and connecting

My grandsons Max and Ty Garcia, at Carrollwood Day School

Grandson Ty Garcia showing me the composition he wrote on why his grandparents are important to him

When my grandsons Max and Ty Garcia invited me to attend their school’s annual Grandparents’ Day, I immediately put the date down on my calendar, not wanting to miss this opportunity to visit their classrooms, meet the teachers, their classmates, and get a sense of what their school life is all about.  Max, 10, and Ty,8, attend Carrollwood Day School in Tampa, a private school with a sprawling, ever growing campus in the Tampa suburbs. 

The boys were very eager to introduce me to their teachers and classmates, but, more so, to show me samples of their work hanging on the walls of the classroom.

Of course, I was proud to see that Max decided to do his project about immigration based on my own experiences as a Cuban refugee.  He wrote an essay depicting details of my arrival and subsequent life in the US.

Meanwhile, the younger Ty, a second grader, wrote an essay on why his grandparents are important to him, noting that this “grandpa likes to run everyday” but he is “fun to play with when he comes to visit us”.

As my grandsons showed me around, I was very happy to see that there is still emphasis on such traditional academic elements as good penmanshiip (calligraphy). There are actual handwritten compositions hanging on the walls.  Though these classrooms are well equipped with computers, and I was impressed with the computer-produced work completed by the students, it is obvious that the main emphasis continues to be the so called 3 R’s (reading, ‘riting, ‘rithmetic), but also, at least in this school, a tremendous focus on storytelling, original writing, and, for those interested in computers many creative pursuits, including graphics. My grandson Max had done a nice logo which was used to identify compositions on the wall of his classroom.  Other samples of art and graphis done on computers were also on display.

An iPad for Christmas?

View of the students on stage singing We Are The World, We Are the Children, as part of special program for Grandparents’ Day

I know that my grandsons are already preparing to ask Santa Claus for iPads for Christmas, and so do their classmates.  The few around us today all carried some type of digital equipment with them, from iPods to iTouch to small computers.  Remember, the fifth graders are only 10, like my grandson Max.  The moment I arrive they ask for my iPhone and they show such dexterity as they download apps, play games and move around the iPhone, that I am mesmerized. With two or three of them playing with my iPhone at the same time, all I could see was fingers enlarging images, reducing them, moving them around. Little fingers on she screen.

Such natural motions for these youngsters.

They cannot imagine life without a screen where, when you touch it, things move, get larger or smaller.

To them the iPad will be ONE of the many digital platforms they will play, study and communicate with before they even graduate from high school.

As you can see, this Grandfather went into elementary school today, and learned much about the future. It was sort of entering a laboratory of the audiences we must start preparing for.

As I drove away from the campus, all I could think of was the exciting possibilities—-which are many.

More importantly, I was a beaming,  proud grandpa. Max and Ty, you made my day!

Here I am with Max, Ty and little brother Jack (not yet in school here)

Weekend reading suggestion: don’t miss

The future of reading
http://money.cnn.com/2010/02/09/technology/tablet_ebooks_media.fortune/index.htm?section=magazines_fortune&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+rss%2Fmagazines_fortune+%28Fortune+Magazine%29

Here is a highlight for you:

Question 5: Can traditional publishing companies reorganize and move fast enough to embrace and serve new platforms?

“They’ve had 15 years to do so since the commercial browser came out,“ says Jeff Jarvis, a reconstructed old media guy (he worked for years here at Time Inc.) who’s now a professor and author of the book What Would Google Do? “They haven’t reinvented or reimagined themselves. The talk we’re hearing now is not at all about reinvention and reimagination—it’s again about trying to shoehorn old models of content and business into this new reality.“

Of related interest

While on the subject of iPads:

Gearing Up for the iPad
http://gadgetwise.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/05/gearing-up-for-the-ipad/

Philips accessorizes the iPad user
http://www.onthego.philips.com/

TheMarioBlog post #498

Strong measures for difficult times

A high school in the United States fires its entire faculty when declared an academic disaster.

The most famous restaurant in the world plans to close for two years to seek change and innovation.

Hmmmmmmmm, i say to myself as I read these stories in the news.  What if some of the news organizations we knew would take a look and attempt something similar?

Of course, you simply can’t close a daily newspaper operation to proceed with innovation and change, or can you?

And doesn’t it sound totally preposterous to fire an entire editorial staff even if they failed to produce the kind of newspaper or magazine that cuts it with today’s demanding news consumers?

However, as I went to sleep last night, I was totally intrigued by the thought of these drastic approaches to solving our problems.

In Rhode Island: out with the faculty

It sounds unimaginable: One of the poorest performing high schools in Rhode Island is planning to fire all of its teachers after they refused to adapt to longer school days and tutoring to help the struggling students. Central Falls High School Superintendent Frances Gallo announced late last week that she would have no choice but to fire all 74 of the school’s teachers after the Central Falls Teachers’ Union refused to accept her improvement plan for the school.

Of course, some of these teachers are probably good, just simply in the wrong company.  And that is my point: the work that we do is team-oriented.  If all the members of a team do not pull their weight, then it is not going to happen. However, in my experience, when things don’t work in a newspaper or magazine, individual editors are singled out and either fired, or removed from their duties and reassigned (God knows I have appeared at a newsroom many times, in the middle of a project, only to hear that the editor I was working with has been assigned as a China correspondent!).  However, in many of these cases, nobody around that editor was sent anywhere.  Regardless of how talented the new editor appointed may be,  if the team around her is still the same, the dynamics are not likely to change.

A part of me likes the radical approach of getting rid of everyone who had his chance and failed to use it.  Something to think about it.

A change of menu

Start lining up to get your 2014 reservation for a table at El Bulli, the mega famous unique restaurant on Spain’s northeast Catalan coast.

El Bulli, repeatedly crowned the world’s best, will be closed for two years from 2012, its chef Ferran Adria said Tuesday, citing fatigue and a need to perfect new recipes.

“No meals will be served in El Bulli in 2012 and 2013,“ said the controversial guru of avant-garde cuisine and creator of “molecular gastronomy”.Yes,  this is the chef identified with radical innovations like potato foam and foie gras “noodles” frozen with liquid nitrogen Chef Adria says he is tired of the long 15-hour days, which leave him and his team little time to create, and to take the restaurant to its next level.

Editors out there? Can you identify with those 15-hour days?  Time to create?

So, when it closes for two years, El Bulli will turn into a laboratory, where selected promising chefs from around the world, will gather to connect with each other, bring in ideas and produce the next recipes that will continue to make El Bulli the place the world’s gourmet followers wait a year——or two—-to get a table.

Ok, back to our reality

I know, I know:  we can’t simply fire an entire group of executive in the newsroom just because the product they produce daily or weekly fails. Or can we?  Should we?

I am not a management consultant, but I have often, over the past 40 years, wondered why some seemingly ineffectual individuals are perpetuated in the newsrooms?  The answer comes easy: newspapers are environments where loyalty is generously rewarded big time.  If you warm your chair in a newsroom for 25 years, you are loved and appreciated. You are given the prime spot on the page for your column—-not because you may have something profound to say daily, but because you have “paid your dues”.

Perhaps it is not about paying your dues anymore, but producing the goods, staying with the times, and passing the ultimate test: how your audience takes to what you offer it.

As for closing a newspaper or magazine for two years—-nice idea, but not practical.

But I find something fascinating in the example that Master Chef Fernan Adria seeks as he closes his ever famous restaurant to “reinvent it” and to reinvent himself.

I see a publication that duplicates its top staff, has one group producing the daily product, while the other one retreats to fantasize, to put big signs that read What If on the walls and follow them with Why Not lists directly under it.

The advent of the iPad and the sense of rethinking and introspection that it forces us to do is a magnificent opportunity for the “closing of our existing shops” and the opening of new avenues leading to innovation.

For starters, think of how storytelling and breaking news patterns will be affected when you are truly multi platform: mobile telephones, online, printed editions and the IPad or other tablet.  A quote from Chef Adria hits a special chord with me: “We’re changing the economic model, and we’re changing the reservation system,“ says Adrià. “But we’re still going to be feeding people.“

Exactly what innovation means in our media business: we need to change the economic model (pronto!), and we are changing the platforms through which we tell stories, but we are still going to do pretty much what we have done all along: to tell stories, to inform, to entertain.

Let’s all get a place at that table for a gourmet-style discussion of innovation.

TIME Magazine’s What Will the World’s Best Restaurant Become Next?
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1964802,00.html

Everyone needs a mentor

This is part 4 of my occasional series 40 Years/40 Lessons, which I call a “sort of career memoir” capturing highlights and reminiscing about what has been a spectacular journey for me, doing what I love most.  Today’s segment: Mentors play a key role to help us make it to the finish line

Madonna is mentor to Oscar winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow

I had the best mentors and, perhaps, as a result, I also have had the best mentorees.

I was lucky to encounter mentors in the BPC era.  Yes, Before Personal Coaches.

One can now recruit a personal coach, interview several potential candidates then pick the one we wish to assist us to do a job more effectively and/or to progress in our careers.

Personal coaches are now part of the fabric of networking, advancing and beating the competition.  In my growing up years, we had no personal coaches as such.  Instead, we had mentors.

A mentor would appear without the prerequisite interview. 

They were not hired. 

There was no transaction, except for that one day when you just knew you had met your mentor.  It is hard to tell how you knew you were in the presence of your mentor one fateful day, but you just knew it.

I have to admit that the process was rather informal, highly personal and not as military sounding as it seems to be today, when personal coaches begin by plotting “strategy and tactics” to build up someone’s career.

Mentoring one semester at a time

Maybe we called it differently, although the goals were similar: the mentor would discover you, would then decide that you were worth cultivating to take you as high as your potential—-and your own goals—-could advance you. 

As part of “strategy” the good old mentors would hold regular meetings with you, review what progress you had made, and ask about your immediate goals for the next few days or months. The mentors I knew dealt with “semesters”, which seemed more realistic than “ a lifetime.“  But all those semesters of mentoring added to lifetime of realizations.

No matter how formal or informal the mentoring process is, everyone needs a mentor.

The first Mentor

The original Mentor is a character in Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey. When Odysseus, King of Ithaca, went to fight in the Trojan War, he entrusted the care of his kingdom to Mentor. Mentor served as the teacher and overseer of Odysseuss’ son, Telemachus.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a mentor as “a trusted counselor or guide.“ For their Mentor/Protégé Program, the Anesthesiology Department of Cleveland’s MetroHealth System defines mentor as “a wise, loyal advisor or coach.“

Wise and loyal. Those are the two key words that best define the mentors I was lucky to have. I refuse to use the word coach to describe any of them.

My first mentor

Her name was Miss Ann Congelo, and she taught English at Miami High. It was my junior year and we were studying American literature, for which I felt passionate from day one. One author after the other opened different avenues and presented me with a variety of different English words, Americanisms and sentence structures that combined to teach me the language, as well as the culture of my new country.

Enter Miss Congelo, who died young. 

She was the definition of teacher (aren’t all mentors?).  Loved her subject matter, knew it like an expert, and did not count the hours she spent in the classroom, which is why, when I told her that I was interested in reading additional books to the ones assigned in our class list, she looked at me with her big green eyes, smiled, and offered to create a book list for me. 

We decided to meet twice a week so I could offer “book reports” and tell her about my readings.  Miss Congelo would read Emily Dickinson’s melancholic poetry, stopping to tell me what some of the words meant.

Miss Congelos’ favorite Dickinson poem was “if you were coming in the fall”.  When she read it to me, we were the only two people in the room, sitting by her desk, next to those big Miami High School windows, the tall palm trees swaying just outside.  I was only 15, but I could tell that Miss Congelo had memorized the words in the poem, and would close her eyes, look away from me, and feel each word of the poem.

No better way to learn English.  Without knowing it, I had discovered my first mentor.  To this day, every time I use the word “nimble” I remember Miss Congelo, who taught it to me.

I always wondered if Miss Congelo, like Emily Dickinson, had failed to realize her romantic fantasies.  I have often thought about it as I re read this poem.

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spum,
As housewives do a fly.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Of course, Miss Congelo would ask me me to underline words I did not understand. In this poem, a dozen: spum, befalls, Van Dieman’s land,yonder, rind, goads, goblin bee. Miss Congelo will patiently tell me what each word meant, then she would pronounce it slowly, looking at me, making me look at her lips.

First class mentoring from a teacher who died too young. I am happy she was in my life.

Enter Miss G

At Miami-Dade College, I first met my next mentor, Barbara Garfunkel, one hot day in July.  It was the summer break but I could not wait to get into the staff of the student newspaper, Falcon Times, and the first step was to meet the advisor.  I knew, at the end of that meeting that July 17, 1965 would be a day I would remember. Indeed, at home we had one of those old calendars in our kitchen where you would rip each page off at the end of the day.  That night, I saved July 17 in my diary. I knew I had met someone who would make a difference.

Petite, green eyed, and always impeccably dressed in print dresses, and matching custom jewelry, Barbara Garfunkel was the grand dame of journalism education in Miami. Anyone you met at The Miami Herald or The Miami News had been a student of Miss G.  She had mentored many, and was proud of it. You mentioned Miss G in the newsrooms around Miami and people smiled, and then proceeded to recount a Miss G anecdote.

Mentors teach.

Mentors mold.

Mentors see in you what you still don’t see in yourself.

They possess special lenses, perhaps, or an antenna that picks up vibes in that person sitting across from them.  Whatever it was, Miss G spent two hours with me that first day I met her, explained all about the newspaper, and welcomed me in it.  The rest was hard work and discipline, which, by the way, is always the case.
Mentors guide you, mentors don’t give you discipline or do the work for you.

The best mentors demand without making it sound like an order. You simply do not wish to disappoint the mentor, so you try harder. There is nothing wrong with working extra hard not to disappoint, especially if the person you don’t wish to disappoint is yourself.
For Miss G, perfection was the key.  I would write my weekly column for the Falcon Times, and she would sit there with me, pushing me to explain a point I had made better, or questioning an assumption not based on facts. I learned tons from Miss G; to this day,  I often feel her presence near me when I am writing and see her, pencil in hand, deleting, adding, enhancing the copy.

Then along comes Dr. Sanderson

At the University of South Florida, my mentor quickly became Professor Arthur (Sandy) Sanderson, a Minnesotan who had made Florida home. A short man with a little white hair, he also had a sort of blondish moustache, the result of his constant smoking. In those days, if the professor smoked, he did it in his office.

With Dr. Sanderson, it was first class mentoring, and second hand smoke.

First class mentoring it was.  Dr. Sanderson took me under his wing as I became editor of the University’s daily, The Oracle, and he ran the newsroom like it was The New York Times. You had to follow style, meet deadlines, and rewrite, rewrite and rewrite, till all facts were checked three times.

The University of South Florida in 1968 was exploring a medical school (it now has it, and it is nationally recognized), so I was doing weekly stories on the planning stages for the school.  I would think I would have it all, return to the newsroom, then Dr. Sanderson,a cigarette forever dangling from the side of his mouth, blue eyes moving from side to side as he read, would take a pencil and cross entire lines out, put question marks here or there, then look at me with a barrage of questions about what I had left out of the story.

“Go back to these two sources, Mario,“ he would say in his Midwestern accent.  “There is more to the story than you project here. Push those sources. Make them tell you more.“

My defenses would drop. I would feel disarmed. But a power within me would propel me to return to the sources of my story, and to rewrite it, then sit with the patient but demanding professor again.  At the end, the story was complete, and my mentor, Dr. Sanderson, would give me praise and incentive.

Mentors do that. They push you hard. They praise you accordingly.  To the mentors, you are a teddy bear.  Ironically, to the mentorees, the mentors ARE the teddy bears.  They make you feel safe and comfortable within your own boundaries.

In Oklahoma, Jim Paschal

I had already graduated, and I was teaching, when I won a Newspaper Fund Fellowship to study at the University of Oklahoma.  It was an honor for a college professor to get such a Fellowship, and 12 of us gathered there to study for three weeks, and become better teachers.

That is how I met one of my most theatrically memorable mentors: the late Prof. James F. Paschal.  He would become a lifelong friend to me and my family.  Jim Paschal taught journalism, but he had a passion for scholastic journalism, student newspapers and yearbooks, and he was certain that participation in student publications made a student a better citizen, regardless of whether they were interested in a journalism career.  Of course, after students attended a Jim Paschal workshop, THEY forever wanted to go into journalism. Legions of his students did.

Jim played the piano like a pro, and he loved everything about Walt Disney (had held a job at Disneyland in California during his college years). To this day, when I hear the signature Disney song “When you Wish upon a Star” i immediately think of Jim Paschal and his passion for our profession, his impeccable timing in front of a class (master teacher that he was), and the fact that he was a showman, knew it and did not try to hide it.

Two weeks into the workshop at Oklahoma, Jim pulled me aside one day and said: “You were born to teach, and I think I’d like to join me on a workshop for high school and college journalists next month.“

Showman Jim and showman Mario hit the road to do workshops nationally from coast to coast that summer, and for many years after that.
My mentor Jim taught me that passion is the key and that perfection is not a choice.
I loved that man and what he meant to me, Maria and the children.

Yes, all of my mentors are now deceased.  But mentors brand you.  Their teachings, guidance, recommendations and, most importantly, their faith in you,, stays there, intact.  When you begin to have self doubts, you can see their faces, hear their voices, believing in you.  Then, somehow, you straighten yourself up, give them a nod and move on.

Then, suddenly, the constant evolution of life in all its manifestations makes YOU a mentor.

I have mentored many, and I am honored that they would give me the chance. I continue to do that, and will probably do it to the end.
Mentors believe in you and push you to pursue your dreams.

In my view, nobody makes it without that mentor and that push.

The good mentors are happy when the mentorees fly higher than they did.

It happened to Madonna when her mentoree, Gwyneth Paltrow, won the Oscar for best actress.

So, Miss Congelo, Miss G, Dr. Sanderson and Jim Paschal, there would be no 40 Years/40 Lessons without the enormous role that you played in my life.

And, Prof. Paschal, you taught me, in the great Disney tradition, that if you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are.

I will add that the difference is the mentor you hitch your star to.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

3.Teacher..
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_3—teacher/

TheMarioBlog post #498

TAKEAWAY: We present prototype pages for dramatic changes in the Daily News, plus new variations of page one for The Philadelphia Inquirer, and branding ideas for philly.com.  Suddenly, our Philadelphia story project moves from the philosophical to the specific. PLUS: Chile earthquake follow up: one eyewitness account continues AND: At US Airways: a terrible case of the nastys.

Our Philadelphia story continues.

A table full of prototype pages, tons of ideas, a day of looking at the way things could be

On this, our third visit to Philadelphia, Reed Reibstein and I arrived early, were ushered into the 12th floor where the big executive conference room is, and got to see the top resident canine on that floor, a black poodle named Franklin (perhaps named after that other famous Philadelphian and sometimes journalist, Benjamin Franklin? ), who was a bit camera shy at first, but then decided to please.

This week it was our turn to present pages of what we would do with the Daily News, the tabloid, highly local newspaper that is as much a staple of Philadelphia life as the famous Philadelphia Cheese steak.

Of course, we also had some front pages of The Inquirer, and additional work on branding issues related to philly.com, the newspapers’ website.

For the Daily News: big relaunch?

Meet Franklin, The Philadelphia Newspapers’ resident canine: life is full of sweet bones in the executive suite

One of the top questions here is the degree to which the Daily News will change.

Will this be an evolutionary, step-by-step introduction of new concepts, new typographic fonts, a more modern navigation, and a completely different approach to Page One?

Will the logo change? (We have presented options in case it should, which we tend to favor)

Or, will the changes be subtler, retaining the existing pillbox red logo, the same typographic fonts, and the same spirit?

We have now presented what we would do; so internal discussions must follow in the days ahead.

In any case, one of the foundations of our work with the Philadelphia newspapers is to better integrate the print/online editions, and our prototypes go the distance to present how we would suggest they do that.

It is great to see that the editors like what they see, and that our prototypes remind them of how things could be in the area of integration of print/online.

One year in bankruptcy

The Philadelphia newspapers have just marked their first year in bankruptcy court.  Not a date to celebrate, specifically, but one to note as we continue to tell the Philadelphia story, and the reason why we at Garcia Media have volunteered to join the talented and energetic team here, led by Brian Tierney, and to offer what we consider to be ideas that may help the newspaper gain new readers, become more print/online friendly, and, of course, emerge from its financial woes.

On that account, I am happy to hear that there are several suitors interested in the newspapers, and that perhaps an auction will be held in the near future.

Both the Inquirer and the Daily News seem to have good advertising numbers today, and we have already seen progress in the integration of print/online, although not all that we would like to see.

Our work continues and both Reed and I are happy to see—-at the end of this visit—-that we have graduated from philosophical discussions of what could be, to specific examples of how it is when the ideas land on a page.

Our discussions today ended with the prospect of the iPad editions, looking at the rest of 2010 and beyond.

There is a future for the Philadelphia newspapers, and if you sat with the editors, as we have, you would realize that it is likely to be a promising future.

Something that we are sure that investors and possible future suitors of the Philadelphia newspapers would like to hear more about.

Previous blogs about The Philadelphia Story

A very special project for me: The Philadelphia Story
http://garciamedia.com/blog/articles/a_very_special_project_for_me_the_philadelphia_story

The Philadelphia Story: Discussing the Non-Project Project
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/the_philadelphia_story_entry_2_discussing_the_non_project_project

The Philadelphia Story (Entries 3-4-5):I recognize this conference roomhttp://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/the_philadelphia_story_entry_3_i_recognize_this_conference_room
 
The Philadelphia Story (Entry #6): We present; positive reactions
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/the_philadelphia_story_entry_6_we_present_positive_reactions/

In Philadelphia: moving philly.com to the top of the page
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/in_philadelphia_moving_philly.com_to_the_top_of_the_page/

US Airways: the flight of the nasty

Some days are not good for flying.

Some days are not good for airline personnel.

Some days “nasty” prevails.

Tuesday was probably one of those days.  Or perhaps it is always like this with US Airways?

I was scheduled to fly US Airways from Philadelphia to Tampa, and it was a case of the “nastys” at all three steps for me along the way.

I called the 800 reservations number Monday night to reconfirm my flight and to inquire about possibility of upgrades.  The woman who answered was cut and dry, not at all friendly, less at all helpful, and the tone made me feel like I was an incompetent someone intruding on her time. I said thank you and hung up, not feeling very wanted by US Airways, in spite of my Platinum Preferred status with the airline.

Then Tuesday, I got to the airport early, and tried to check in using one of the self service stations, but the computer would simply not take my card, or acknowledge me (I refuse to think that the computer was playing nasty to go along with the rest). I approached a man behind the counter, who proceeded to lecture me on everything I was doing wrong, as if I was a five year old unable to go to the bathroom by myself in a kindergarten class.  Nasty.

With my boarding pass in hand, I proceeded to the US Airways Club.  The lady at the front desk asked me for my membership card, I showed my Lufthansa HON Circle card (the highest you can go with the German carrier, and Star Alliance member, like US Airways).  Apparently, she had not seen one of those cards, so she said: Sir, you have to be Gold.

“Well, HON Circle is higher than gold,” I said, and I wonder how the George Clooney character in the high flying flick Up in the Air would have reacted, except that he flew American Airlines and it probably would not have happened there.

“Oh, OK,” she said matter of fact, and ushered me in. Another nasty moment.

Finally, I boarded Flight 735 to Tampa.  Not a good experience for a Platinum Preferred customer of US Airways.

I wonder what the degree of nasty is for the NON-preferred customers.  Better yet, I don’t want to know.

Tip for those doing training of personnel at US Airways: Teach them to speak softly, leave the stick at home and respect their customer’s intelligence. Even when we the customers don’t know better, it is nice when you make us feel as if we do.

Chile earthquake: follow up

Today’s Bild Zeitung, of Germany, shakes it on the page as it covers the continued story of the Chilean earthquake

Today’s El Mercurio and Ultimas Noticias, Santiago de Chile

Today’s La Nacion and La Tercera, Santiago de Chile

Javier Devilat, a Chilean designer and my former student at Poynter, continues to update me on the situation in his country following the 8.8 scale earthquake that caused major destruction and over 700 deaths.

In a moving email, Javier offers us a glimpse of his thoughts four days after the earthquake:

For some reason, it is always the same group that suffers, Mario: the poorest of them all.  They are the ones who constantly have to be trying to get up, and, amazingly, they always do. They spend their lives getting up and moving on.

On the other hand is my group. I belong to the group of the “favored ones”, the ones unrtouched by the tragedy, the ones who have a job, food, shelter, education. In our case, once we get up, reach a position, we can enjoy it, we continue to build upon it.

Mario, all that I lost in this tragedy was an already opened bottle of vinegar.

And, although nothing happened to me and my family, one finds it difficult continuing life business as usual. Yes, we have donated food and clothing and material things, but nothing compensates for this difference between the ones who have and the ones who don’t.  After the dead are counting, after the headlines with the big numbers, what remains is the survivors and their loss. The families who won’t be able to send their kids to school, or the many young college students who must drop out now to help their families, their dreams of success shattered by this tragedy, not to mention the thousands left jobless.

It is also extremely disheartening to see people looting the stores. I am not talking about the mothers who steal milk to feed their children. No, I am talking about those who go into a store to steal TV sets, computers, cameras. Yesterday, in our country, it was nature versus man, but today it is man against man.  This finds me sort of depressed and not feeling good at all.

But, we must continue to work, to do our best to make sure that this country can get up and keep moving again.

The role of the press in Chile after earthquake

Javier Devilat sends us daily analysis of how the press is handling the story of this tragedy.  He is right when he writes me that, it is during moments like this, following a tragedy of such magnitude, that people turn to their newspapers for information, for service, to get a sense of guidance of how to survive.  Some newspapers rise to the occasion in such moments, others don’t.

TAKEAWAY: Sudkurier, published in scenic Konstanz, Germany, launched its new look yesterday to coincide with the use of its brand new Cortina compact waterless newspaper offset presses. We were on board and show you the new look.  ALSO: Follow up on Chilean earthquake AND: The iPad and Garcia Media/Joe Zeff Design: ready for the action.

Sudkurier: Berliner format and new color press make for a smash relaunch

Marketing the new product online: Sudkurier is primarily a subscription-based daily

Here is front page of Sudkurier: smaller Berliner format, a classic look inspired by German elegance, order, with a five-column grid

Readers enter a double page 2-3 for the theme of the day, plus some editorial columns

Double page for full listings of what is going on in the various locations. Sudkurier publishes 17 localized editions per day.

The People page

Two inside pages: one about the world’s mirror and one of sport

Once again, Garcia Media had the privilege of working with the Sudkurier team for the past 18 months, leading to the launch yesterday of the newspaper’s new look, now printed with the compact waterless offset press made by Cortina.

Working with our art director, Jan Kny, of Garcia Media Europe, we created several prototypes for the Sudkurier editors and, finally, one was chosen as a favorite in what the editors described as “the one that leads us forward, without losing the support of our very traditional local readers.“

Local is the key word for Sudkurier, which has a loyal following among its 132000 subscribers.  The newspaper’s editors produce 17 editions that get localized down to the minor sports of each of these communities situated where Germany meets Switzerland, and with such pretty and scenic locations that extends from Konstanz—-with a lake that extends like the sea and is ideal for running, biking, or just to sit and watch—-to the ever beautiful Black Forest

Format change

Our work included adapting Sudkurier to a smaller Berliner format to be printed on the brand new Cortina offset press (which cost the company around 30 million euros).  Who says that newspapers are not investing in their ink/paper future?  Cortina, a German firm, is the most diminutive printing press one can imagine, and its makers insist that it is “greener, leaner and more cost-effective”.  Indeed, the press is not only waterless, but keyless and gearless, with a unique PlateTronic automatic plate-changing system, which, for a newspaper like Sudkurier, with so many local editions, is exactly what the doctor ordered.

So, the new Sudkurier has color on every page——and good color, too, that equals what one sees on glossy magazines.

New content, too

However, it is not just about a new press, a smaller format and more color. There is new content, too, and a reorganization of how the content flows in Sudkurier.

The newspaper opens with a double page spread, for pages 2 and 3, to cover the “theme of the day.“

In addition, there is the introduction of a new double page for Life and Science, and also a new double page about the agenda for what is going on in the region.

Finally, the new Sudkurier is, as many other newspapers which go through a total rethinking, more about background, analysis, and more local, local, local.

Elements of the new design

The design has also adapted a new font: ITC Franklin from the FontBureau. The logo, however, retains the same font, Trajan, which it has had for 65 years.

Perhaps one of the biggest, and most dramatic changes for Sudkurier: page architecture.  Here we have played with a skinny column—-the editors inside call it the “superspalte” or “supercolumn”—-and it cuts through a page like a fine Swiss knife, usually with briefs and secondary details.

A new, softer color palette has been created for infographics, which the new Sudkurier wants to use more often to accompany stories.

Reactions?

With only two editions out in the streets so far, the reaction, according to the editors, is 99% positive.

Says CEO Rainer Wiesner.:

We are really proud about our results. The new Südkurier is elegant and well organized, but it is also more lively and highly readable. Content
remains at the high journalistic level to which our readers are accustomed.  Together, the new packaging, smaller format, bright color, give this Sudkurier a lot to look forward to

This makes me feel good, as I have worked with relaunches of Sudkurier three times, and I am quite aware that the average reader is somewhere in his/her 50s, love their newspaper, take the time to read it, and, well, are not very open to having it changed in anyway.

All throughout the project, our task was to bring in new things while not alienating these very conservative readers.  Apparently we have met those goals.

Chile earthquake: follow up

Front page of La Tercera (Santiago) for today

An informative two-page spread from La Tercera: showing a dynamic photo of a soldier stopping a looter in Concepcion, heart of where the earthquake hit

Another great spread: maybe too much white space between headline and text (left), but the impact of the page is great

Javier Devilat, a Chilean designer and my former student at Poynter, continues to update me on the situation in his country following the 8.8 scale earthquake that caused major destruction and over 700 deaths.

The situation is getting ugly here. Many people are looting stores and setting off fires. As police cannot cope with all the chaos, the government has now called for soldiers to come and patrol the streets. People are afraid, since there are occasional aftershocks, and now, all the delinquents out there to have to deal with.

Javier adds that the press has covered the earthquake to the point of saturation, but now turns a bit sensationalistic with its coverage.

Now, for example, they interview a woman who has lost it all. But the note ends there, with her testimony. It does not go further.  It does not develop the story from there.  For me, at the end of the day, you are left with a feeling of nothingness in your heart, seeing how people are so bad as to steal from those who have nothing, but also to see the courage of people who have lost their family members to the earthquake, and they do it with a sense of acceptance. Then you compare with yourself, who suffered nothing, or very little.  The people here need help, Mario, and I hope that the many followers of your blog will hear the message.

I hope so, too, and urge everyone to work through the proper channels for donations, such as the Red Cross.

Two earthquakes, two different sets of numbers

Infographics from Il Secolo XIX compares the earthquake of Haiti with that of Chile

I find the story in Genoa’s Il Secolo XIX about the difference between the Haiti (January)  and the Chile earthquakes.  Massimo Gentile, design director, had already warned me yesterday that his team was working on a graphic to accentuate “the earthquake of the poor and the earthquake of the richer”.

Today, he has sent me the graphic and how it compares the two earthquakes at various levels. Here is how Massimo explains the graphic in his newspaper:

To compare the facts in the Haiti and Chile earthquakes requires an understanding of why one caused so many casualties, and the other one so much less.  We tried to do that through our graphic, highlighting the important things. I think the readers appreciate this type of visual journalism

The major points of comparison, according to this graphic, are:

The Haiti earthquake took place practically in the peripheral area of Port Au Prince, while the Chilean earthquake took place at 400 kilometers from the capital, Santiago.

The difference in the density of population between Chile and Haiti is enormous: more than 600 inhabitants per square kilometer in Haiti, to 22 in Chile.
Then there is the element of standards of living and the prevailing poverty in Haiti, which leads to bad construction standards.  Finally, says Massimo, one must take into consideration the depth of the earthquake.  The Haiti earthquake was only at 15km, less depth which leads to greater energy as it travels on the surface.

Offering iPad services

As you could see when you first entered our Garcia Media site today, we now are very happy and proud to offer our services to any organization contemplating entering the iPad world for editions of their newspapers, magazines, books, etc.  As we are already engaged with clients that are going to be among the first to have an iPad edition, we are aware of the planning that goes into entering the iPad, and we have joined forces with Joe Zeff, of Joe Zeff Design, to form a unique and unparalleled team that is there to help you.

This is new territory for everyone, and the scope of iPad projects cannot compare to that which we are accustomed to, as in the case of a redesign of a newspaper or magazine.  Therefore, we feel that we have to offer a variety of programs to those interested in contemplating their iPad future.

As such, one of our programs will be My iPad Baby Steps® , where we guide an organization early on, as it starts thinking of the iPad, but has no concrete plans yet on how to get there.

Of course, then we have the full program offering.

To us, going iPad means planning strategies in five different areas: business strategy (how to monetize it), editorial (storytelling possibilities), user experience strategy (how your audience engages with your brand), technical (how it works), advertising (creating meaningful partnerships with advertisers, exploring new and creative opportunities for advertising).  These are the five centerpieces of any iPad project.  We at Garcia Media are prepared to assist your organization take steps that will guarantee a smooth iPad launch when you are ready.

Let us hear from you and your plans.

Everyone needs a mentor

This is part 4 of my occasional series 40 Years/40 Lessons, which I call a “sort of career memoir” capturing highlights and reminiscing about what has been a spectacular journey for me, doing what I love most.  Today’s segment: Mentors play a key role to help us make it to the finish line

Madonna is mentor to Oscar winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow

I had the best mentors and, perhaps, as a result, I also have had the best mentorees.

I was lucky to encounter mentors in the BPC era.  Yes, Before Personal Coaches.

One can now recruit a personal coach, interview several potential candidates then pick the one we wish to assist us to do a job more effectively and/or to progress in our careers.

Personal coaches are now part of the fabric of networking, advancing and beating the competition.  In my growing up years, we had no personal coaches as such.  Instead, we had mentors.

A mentor would appear without the prerequisite interview. 

They were not hired. 

There was no transaction, except for that one day when you just knew you had met your mentor.  It is hard to tell how you knew you were in the presence of your mentor one fateful day, but you just knew it.

I have to admit that the process was rather informal, highly personal and not as military sounding as it seems to be today, when personal coaches begin by plotting “strategy and tactics” to build up someone’s career.

Mentoring one semester at a time

Maybe we called it differently, although the goals were similar: the mentor would discover you, would then decide that you were worth cultivating to take you as high as your potential—-and your own goals—-could advance you. 

As part of “strategy” the good old mentors would hold regular meetings with you, review what progress you had made, and ask about your immediate goals for the next few days or months. The mentors I knew dealt with “semesters”, which seemed more realistic than “ a lifetime.“  But all those semesters of mentoring added to lifetime of realizations.

No matter how formal or informal the mentoring process is, everyone needs a mentor.

The first Mentor

The original Mentor is a character in Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey. When Odysseus, King of Ithaca, went to fight in the Trojan War, he entrusted the care of his kingdom to Mentor. Mentor served as the teacher and overseer of Odysseuss’ son, Telemachus.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a mentor as “a trusted counselor or guide.“ For their Mentor/Protégé Program, the Anesthesiology Department of Cleveland’s MetroHealth System defines mentor as “a wise, loyal advisor or coach.“

Wise and loyal. Those are the two key words that best define the mentors I was lucky to have. I refuse to use the word coach to describe any of them.

My first mentor

Her name was Miss Ann Congelo, and she taught English at Miami High. It was my junior year and we were studying American literature, for which I felt passionate from day one. One author after the other opened different avenues and presented me with a variety of different English words, Americanisms and sentence structures that combined to teach me the language, as well as the culture of my new country.

Enter Miss Congelo, who died young. 

She was the definition of teacher (aren’t all mentors?).  Loved her subject matter, knew it like an expert, and did not count the hours she spent in the classroom, which is why, when I told her that I was interested in reading additional books to the ones assigned in our class list, she looked at me with her big green eyes, smiled, and offered to create a book list for me. 

We decided to meet twice a week so I could offer “book reports” and tell her about my readings.  Miss Congelo would read Emily Dickinson’s melancholic poetry, stopping to tell me what some of the words meant.

Miss Congelos’ favorite Dickinson poem was “if you were coming in the fall”.  When she read it to me, we were the only two people in the room, sitting by her desk, next to those big Miami High School windows, the tall palm trees swaying just outside.  I was only 15, but I could tell that Miss Congelo had memorized the words in the poem, and would close her eyes, look away from me, and feel each word of the poem.

No better way to learn English.  Without knowing it, I had discovered my first mentor.  To this day, every time I use the word “nimble” I remember Miss Congelo, who taught it to me.

I always wondered if Miss Congelo, like Emily Dickinson, had failed to realize her romantic fantasies.  I have often thought about it as I re read this poem.

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spum,
As housewives do a fly.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Of course, Miss Congelo would ask me me to underline words I did not understand. In this poem, a dozen: spum, befalls, Van Dieman’s land,yonder, rind, goads, goblin bee. Miss Congelo will patiently tell me what each word meant, then she would pronounce it slowly, looking at me, making me look at her lips.

First class mentoring from a teacher who died too young. I am happy she was in my life.

Enter Miss G

At Miami-Dade College, I first met my next mentor, Barbara Garfunkel, one hot day in July.  It was the summer break but I could not wait to get into the staff of the student newspaper, Falcon Times, and the first step was to meet the advisor.  I knew, at the end of that meeting that July 17, 1965 would be a day I would remember. Indeed, at home we had one of those old calendars in our kitchen where you would rip each page off at the end of the day.  That night, I saved July 17 in my diary. I knew I had met someone who would make a difference.

Petite, green eyed, and always impeccably dressed in print dresses, and matching custom jewelry, Barbara Garfunkel was the grand dame of journalism education in Miami. Anyone you met at The Miami Herald or The Miami News had been a student of Miss G.  She had mentored many, and was proud of it. You mentioned Miss G in the newsrooms around Miami and people smiled, and then proceeded to recount a Miss G anecdote.

Mentors teach.

Mentors mold.

Mentors see in you what you still don’t see in yourself.

They possess special lenses, perhaps, or an antenna that picks up vibes in that person sitting across from them.  Whatever it was, Miss G spent two hours with me that first day I met her, explained all about the newspaper, and welcomed me in it.  The rest was hard work and discipline, which, by the way, is always the case.
Mentors guide you, mentors don’t give you discipline or do the work for you.

The best mentors demand without making it sound like an order. You simply do not wish to disappoint the mentor, so you try harder. There is nothing wrong with working extra hard not to disappoint, especially if the person you don’t wish to disappoint is yourself.
For Miss G, perfection was the key.  I would write my weekly column for the Falcon Times, and she would sit there with me, pushing me to explain a point I had made better, or questioning an assumption not based on facts. I learned tons from Miss G; to this day,  I often feel her presence near me when I am writing and see her, pencil in hand, deleting, adding, enhancing the copy.

Then along comes Dr. Sanderson

At the University of South Florida, my mentor quickly became Professor Arthur (Sandy) Sanderson, a Minnesotan who had made Florida home. A short man with a little white hair, he also had a sort of blondish moustache, the result of his constant smoking. In those days, if the professor smoked, he did it in his office.

With Dr. Sanderson, it was first class mentoring, and second hand smoke.

First class mentoring it was.  Dr. Sanderson took me under his wing as I became editor of the University’s daily, The Oracle, and he ran the newsroom like it was The New York Times. You had to follow style, meet deadlines, and rewrite, rewrite and rewrite, till all facts were checked three times.

The University of South Florida in 1968 was exploring a medical school (it now has it, and it is nationally recognized), so I was doing weekly stories on the planning stages for the school.  I would think I would have it all, return to the newsroom, then Dr. Sanderson,a cigarette forever dangling from the side of his mouth, blue eyes moving from side to side as he read, would take a pencil and cross entire lines out, put question marks here or there, then look at me with a barrage of questions about what I had left out of the story.

“Go back to these two sources, Mario,“ he would say in his Midwestern accent.  “There is more to the story than you project here. Push those sources. Make them tell you more.“

My defenses would drop. I would feel disarmed. But a power within me would propel me to return to the sources of my story, and to rewrite it, then sit with the patient but demanding professor again.  At the end, the story was complete, and my mentor, Dr. Sanderson, would give me praise and incentive.

Mentors do that. They push you hard. They praise you accordingly.  To the mentors, you are a teddy bear.  Ironically, to the mentorees, the mentors ARE the teddy bears.  They make you feel safe and comfortable within your own boundaries.

In Oklahoma, Jim Paschal

I had already graduated, and I was teaching, when I won a Newspaper Fund Fellowship to study at the University of Oklahoma.  It was an honor for a college professor to get such a Fellowship, and 12 of us gathered there to study for three weeks, and become better teachers.

That is how I met one of my most theatrically memorable mentors: the late Prof. James F. Paschal.  He would become a lifelong friend to me and my family.  Jim Paschal taught journalism, but he had a passion for scholastic journalism, student newspapers and yearbooks, and he was certain that participation in student publications made a student a better citizen, regardless of whether they were interested in a journalism career.  Of course, after students attended a Jim Paschal workshop, THEY forever wanted to go into journalism. Legions of his students did.

Jim played the piano like a pro, and he loved everything about Walt Disney (had held a job at Disneyland in California during his college years). To this day, when I hear the signature Disney song “When you Wish upon a Star” i immediately think of Jim Paschal and his passion for our profession, his impeccable timing in front of a class (master teacher that he was), and the fact that he was a showman, knew it and did not try to hide it.

Two weeks into the workshop at Oklahoma, Jim pulled me aside one day and said: “You were born to teach, and I think I’d like to join me on a workshop for high school and college journalists next month.“

Showman Jim and showman Mario hit the road to do workshops nationally from coast to coast that summer, and for many years after that.
My mentor Jim taught me that passion is the key and that perfection is not a choice.
I loved that man and what he meant to me, Maria and the children.

Yes, all of my mentors are now deceased.  But mentors brand you.  Their teachings, guidance, recommendations and, most importantly, their faith in you,, stays there, intact.  When you begin to have self doubts, you can see their faces, hear their voices, believing in you.  Then, somehow, you straighten yourself up, give them a nod and move on.

Then, suddenly, the constant evolution of life in all its manifestations makes YOU a mentor.

I have mentored many, and I am honored that they would give me the chance. I continue to do that, and will probably do it to the end.
Mentors believe in you and push you to pursue your dreams.

In my view, nobody makes it without that mentor and that push.

The good mentors are happy when the mentorees fly higher than they did.

It happened to Madonna when her mentoree, Gwyneth Paltrow, won the Oscar for best actress.

So, Miss Congelo, Miss G, Dr. Sanderson and Jim Paschal, there would be no 40 Years/40 Lessons without the enormous role that you played in my life.

And, Prof. Paschal, you taught me, in the great Disney tradition, that if you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are.

I will add that the difference is the mentor you hitch your star to.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

3.Teacher..
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_3—teacher/

TheMarioBlog post #496

TAKEAWAY: The second major earthquake of 2010 hit central Chile in the early morning hours of Saturday, leaving more than 700 dead, a number which may rise quickly.  We show you how the Chilean newspapers have covered the country’s biggest catastrophe in 50 years.  PLUS: iPad and magazines: riding the wave AND: 40 Years/40 Lessons: Mentors

A story of death and disaster in Chile

El Mercurio, Santiago de Chile: the normally calm, classic front page sends immediate message about magnitude of the event on its front page, with six column photo across the top

El Mercurio: Valparaiso: part of the El Mercurio group, published in compact format

El Mercurio: Antofagasta: part of the El Mercurio group, published in compact format

Ultimas Noticias, Santiago de Chile: Be strong, Chileans, urges the headline

La Tercera, Santiago de Chile: publishes special edition; simple front page, a huge photo that needs no explanation, and a rather small headline

La Nacion: Domingo: colorful front page with only photo and headline, plus navigator, on Page One.

La Estrella, Valparaiso: popular newspaper publishes special edition, with headline: Night of Terror

When an earthquake hit central Chile early Saturday morning, it became the biggest catastrophe to take place in the South American country.  I have many good friends in Chile, having worked with the redesign of El Mercurio, the country’s leading daily, in 2001.  My first contact was with Javier Devilat, one of my former students at The Poynter Institute for Media Studies, who now runs a successful design consultancy firm in Santiago de Chile, diseño & contenido

In his own words

“I was about 1000 kilometers north of the epicenter of the earthquake, and I felt a huge tremor for over three minutes,“ Javier writes me. “Although there was no tsunami in the area of Coquimbo, the mar receded about 50 meters.  I was on the edge of the beach, and we had to run to the highway as a precaution.  Suddenly, power and water services were cut.  My first information came via Twitter, where the flow of information continued, mainly from people in the Santiago area.“

Javier has sent me front pages of a variety of Chilean newspapers. He informs me that the media have covered the event non stop, including setting up special hot lines for people to try to locate missing relatives.

By the way, Javier also tells me that he is busy writing a book about the redesign of newspapers in Chile, a project he expects to complete by the end of 2010.

For more updated information about the Chilean earthquake:
http://www.emol.cl
http://www.emol.com/noticias/todas/_portada/todas.asp?list_not=elin

Italian newspaper coverage of Chile earthquake

Il Secolo XIX (Genoa) and La Stampa (Turin)

La Reppublica (Rome) and Corriere de la Sera (Milano)

Today’s Il Secolo XIX: front page and inside double page spread

Massimo Gentile, design director of Genoa’s Il Secolo XIX, sends us these front pages of national daily newspapers covering the Chilean earthquake as a lead story on page one.

iPads and magazines: lots of activity in this sector

We already know first hand that magazines worldwide are thrilled with the prospects presented to them by the iPad.

In fact, many which never took so warmly to their “online editions” are now salivating at the thought of iPadding their photo spreads, creating multi cover editions which can be animated, and simply seducing with new clothes—-not to mention the lure of advertisers who have seduction plans of their own.

Now Condé Nast’s plans for the iPad tablet computer from Apple are getting firmer and it announces plans to test a range of magazines in the much expected new medium. The company, which already has an iPhone version of GQ., says it will create iPad versions are Wired, GQ, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker and Glamour.

GQ will have a tablet version of its April issue ready. Vanity Fair and Wired will follow with their June issues, and The New Yorker and Glamour will have issues in the summer (the company has not yet determined the exact timing for those).

Wired: change of heart?

In what appears to accelerate the mano a mano between Apple and Adobe, Conde Nast now makes it appear that the app demo it showed off this month, which looks great, by the way, may not see the light of day.

Conde is still creating a digital version of its tech magazine for the device but is saying that it won’t create similar iPad apps for other titles unless Apple and Adobe get a plan in motion to work together.  This is something I have also heard from several of my clients in Europe.

Those who have seen the Wired demo video, which everyone likes, say that it may be too ambitious.  This new twist in the story proves them right.

For more on this, including some first hand reporting:
http://mediamemo.allthingsd.com/20100228/conde-nasts-ipad-plan-gets-caught-in-the-apple-adobe-crossfire/

How to fold a broadsheet

Let Martha Stewart, who taught you how to set that perfect holiday table, assist you with folding your newspaper

Well, it was about time that the queen of domesticity, Martha Stewart, dipped her well manicured hands into the world of newspapers.

Her magazine, Martha Stewart Living, offers readers tips on how to fold a broadsheet to read it more conveniently.

Of course, my stitching friends at Tolerans, of Sweden, think that it is a better idea to stitch the pages, so they don’t fall off. I agree.

We also agree that a compact format might be easier for everyone to use.

But, meanwhile, if your newspaper is a broadsheet, let La Martha guide you thru the folding procedures.

Could the iPad edition of Martha’s magazine be far behind?  No need to fold anything here.

Today’s Welt Kompakt: front page dominated by an ad, real front page is page three

It is “blue” day for Germany’s Welt Kompakt, the tabloid edition of Die Welt.  The front page today is dominated by a Think Blue. advertisement for BlueMotion Technologies. We flip the page to get to the real front page.  This is becoming a common practice for many European dailies. Hey, why not?  I smile when I see these front page ads nowawadays.  It makes me think of what newspaper managers everywhere are beginning to tell me: things are looking better, the advertisers are returning.

Nothing to be blue about, if you ask me.

The same Think Blue ad appeared in the broadsheet edition of Die Welt

Everyone needs a mentor

This is part 4 of my occasional series 40 Years/40 Lessons, which I call a “sort of career memoir” capturing highlights and reminiscing about what has been a spectacular journey for me, doing what I love most.  Today’s segment: Mentors play a key role to help us make it to the finish line

Madonna is mentor to Oscar winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow

I had the best mentors and, perhaps, as a result, I also have had the best mentorees.

I was lucky to encounter mentors in the BPC era.  Yes, Before Personal Coaches.

One can now recruit a personal coach, interview several potential candidates then pick the one we wish to assist us to do a job more effectively and/or to progress in our careers.

Personal coaches are now part of the fabric of networking, advancing and beating the competition.  In my growing up years, we had no personal coaches as such.  Instead, we had mentors.

A mentor would appear without the prerequisite interview. 

They were not hired. 

There was no transaction, except for that one day when you just knew you had met your mentor.  It is hard to tell how you knew you were in the presence of your mentor one fateful day, but you just knew it.

I have to admit that the process was rather informal, highly personal and not as military sounding as it seems to be today, when personal coaches begin by plotting “strategy and tactics” to build up someone’s career.

Mentoring one semester at a time

Maybe we called it differently, although the goals were similar: the mentor would discover you, would then decide that you were worth cultivating to take you as high as your potential—-and your own goals—-could advance you. 

As part of “strategy” the good old mentors would hold regular meetings with you, review what progress you had made, and ask about your immediate goals for the next few days or months. The mentors I knew dealt with “semesters”, which seemed more realistic than “ a lifetime.“  But all those semesters of mentoring added to lifetime of realizations.

No matter how formal or informal the mentoring process is, everyone needs a mentor.

The first Mentor

The original Mentor is a character in Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey. When Odysseus, King of Ithaca, went to fight in the Trojan War, he entrusted the care of his kingdom to Mentor. Mentor served as the teacher and overseer of Odysseuss’ son, Telemachus.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a mentor as “a trusted counselor or guide.“ For their Mentor/Protégé Program, the Anesthesiology Department of Cleveland’s MetroHealth System defines mentor as “a wise, loyal advisor or coach.“

Wise and loyal. Those are the two key words that best define the mentors I was lucky to have. I refuse to use the word coach to describe any of them.

My first mentor

Her name was Miss Ann Congelo, and she taught English at Miami High. It was my junior year and we were studying American literature, for which I felt passionate from day one. One author after the other opened different avenues and presented me with a variety of different English words, Americanisms and sentence structures that combined to teach me the language, as well as the culture of my new country.

Enter Miss Congelo, who died young. 

She was the definition of teacher (aren’t all mentors?).  Loved her subject matter, knew it like an expert, and did not count the hours she spent in the classroom, which is why, when I told her that I was interested in reading additional books to the ones assigned in our class list, she looked at me with her big green eyes, smiled, and offered to create a book list for me. 

We decided to meet twice a week so I could offer “book reports” and tell her about my readings.  Miss Congelo would read Emily Dickinson’s melancholic poetry, stopping to tell me what some of the words meant.

Miss Congelos’ favorite Dickinson poem was “if you were coming in the fall”.  When she read it to me, we were the only two people in the room, sitting by her desk, next to those big Miami High School windows, the tall palm trees swaying just outside.  I was only 15, but I could tell that Miss Congelo had memorized the words in the poem, and would close her eyes, look away from me, and feel each word of the poem.

No better way to learn English.  Without knowing it, I had discovered my first mentor.  To this day, every time I use the word “nimble” I remember Miss Congelo, who taught it to me.

I always wondered if Miss Congelo, like Emily Dickinson, had failed to realize her romantic fantasies.  I have often thought about it as I re read this poem.

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spum,
As housewives do a fly.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Of course, Miss Congelo would ask me me to underline words I did not understand. In this poem, a dozen: spum, befalls, Van Dieman’s land,yonder, rind, goads, goblin bee. Miss Congelo will patiently tell me what each word meant, then she would pronounce it slowly, looking at me, making me look at her lips.

First class mentoring from a teacher who died too young. I am happy she was in my life.

Enter Miss G

At Miami-Dade College, I first met my next mentor, Barbara Garfunkel, one hot day in July.  It was the summer break but I could not wait to get into the staff of the student newspaper, Falcon Times, and the first step was to meet the advisor.  I knew, at the end of that meeting that July 17, 1965 would be a day I would remember. Indeed, at home we had one of those old calendars in our kitchen where you would rip each page off at the end of the day.  That night, I saved July 17 in my diary. I knew I had met someone who would make a difference.

Petite, green eyed, and always impeccably dressed in print dresses, and matching custom jewelry, Barbara Garfunkel was the grand dame of journalism education in Miami. Anyone you met at The Miami Herald or The Miami News had been a student of Miss G.  She had mentored many, and was proud of it. You mentioned Miss G in the newsrooms around Miami and people smiled, and then proceeded to recount a Miss G anecdote.

Mentors teach.

Mentors mold.

Mentors see in you what you still don’t see in yourself.

They possess special lenses, perhaps, or an antenna that picks up vibes in that person sitting across from them.  Whatever it was, Miss G spent two hours with me that first day I met her, explained all about the newspaper, and welcomed me in it.  The rest was hard work and discipline, which, by the way, is always the case.
Mentors guide you, mentors don’t give you discipline or do the work for you.

The best mentors demand without making it sound like an order. You simply do not wish to disappoint the mentor, so you try harder. There is nothing wrong with working extra hard not to disappoint, especially if the person you don’t wish to disappoint is yourself.
For Miss G, perfection was the key.  I would write my weekly column for the Falcon Times, and she would sit there with me, pushing me to explain a point I had made better, or questioning an assumption not based on facts. I learned tons from Miss G; to this day,  I often feel her presence near me when I am writing and see her, pencil in hand, deleting, adding, enhancing the copy.

Then along comes Dr. Sanderson

At the University of South Florida, my mentor quickly became Professor Arthur (Sandy) Sanderson, a Minnesotan who had made Florida home. A short man with a little white hair, he also had a sort of blondish moustache, the result of his constant smoking. In those days, if the professor smoked, he did it in his office.

With Dr. Sanderson, it was first class mentoring, and second hand smoke.

First class mentoring it was.  Dr. Sanderson took me under his wing as I became editor of the University’s daily, The Oracle, and he ran the newsroom like it was The New York Times. You had to follow style, meet deadlines, and rewrite, rewrite and rewrite, till all facts were checked three times.

The University of South Florida in 1968 was exploring a medical school (it now has it, and it is nationally recognized), so I was doing weekly stories on the planning stages for the school.  I would think I would have it all, return to the newsroom, then Dr. Sanderson,a cigarette forever dangling from the side of his mouth, blue eyes moving from side to side as he read, would take a pencil and cross entire lines out, put question marks here or there, then look at me with a barrage of questions about what I had left out of the story.

“Go back to these two sources, Mario,“ he would say in his Midwestern accent.  “There is more to the story than you project here. Push those sources. Make them tell you more.“

My defenses would drop. I would feel disarmed. But a power within me would propel me to return to the sources of my story, and to rewrite it, then sit with the patient but demanding professor again.  At the end, the story was complete, and my mentor, Dr. Sanderson, would give me praise and incentive.

Mentors do that. They push you hard. They praise you accordingly.  To the mentors, you are a teddy bear.  Ironically, to the mentorees, the mentors ARE the teddy bears.  They make you feel safe and comfortable within your own boundaries.

In Oklahoma, Jim Paschal

I had already graduated, and I was teaching, when I won a Newspaper Fund Fellowship to study at the University of Oklahoma.  It was an honor for a college professor to get such a Fellowship, and 12 of us gathered there to study for three weeks, and become better teachers.

That is how I met one of my most theatrically memorable mentors: the late Prof. James F. Paschal.  He would become a lifelong friend to me and my family.  Jim Paschal taught journalism, but he had a passion for scholastic journalism, student newspapers and yearbooks, and he was certain that participation in student publications made a student a better citizen, regardless of whether they were interested in a journalism career.  Of course, after students attended a Jim Paschal workshop, THEY forever wanted to go into journalism. Legions of his students did.

Jim played the piano like a pro, and he loved everything about Walt Disney (had held a job at Disneyland in California during his college years). To this day, when I hear the signature Disney song “When you Wish upon a Star” i immediately think of Jim Paschal and his passion for our profession, his impeccable timing in front of a class (master teacher that he was), and the fact that he was a showman, knew it and did not try to hide it.

Two weeks into the workshop at Oklahoma, Jim pulled me aside one day and said: “You were born to teach, and I think I’d like to join me on a workshop for high school and college journalists next month.“

Showman Jim and showman Mario hit the road to do workshops nationally from coast to coast that summer, and for many years after that.
My mentor Jim taught me that passion is the key and that perfection is not a choice.
I loved that man and what he meant to me, Maria and the children.

Yes, all of my mentors are now deceased.  But mentors brand you.  Their teachings, guidance, recommendations and, most importantly, their faith in you,, stays there, intact.  When you begin to have self doubts, you can see their faces, hear their voices, believing in you.  Then, somehow, you straighten yourself up, give them a nod and move on.

Then, suddenly, the constant evolution of life in all its manifestations makes YOU a mentor.

I have mentored many, and I am honored that they would give me the chance. I continue to do that, and will probably do it to the end.
Mentors believe in you and push you to pursue your dreams.

In my view, nobody makes it without that mentor and that push.

The good mentors are happy when the mentorees fly higher than they did.

It happened to Madonna when her mentoree, Gwyneth Paltrow, won the Oscar for best actress.

So, Miss Congelo, Miss G, Dr. Sanderson and Jim Paschal, there would be no 40 Years/40 Lessons without the enormous role that you played in my life.

And, Prof. Paschal, you taught me, in the great Disney tradition, that if you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are.

I will add that the difference is the mentor you hitch your star to.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

3.Teacher..
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_3—teacher/

TheMarioBlog post #495

Everyone needs a mentor

Madonna is mentor to Oscar winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow

I had the best mentors and, perhaps, as a result, I also have had the best mentorees.

I was lucky to encounter mentors in the BPC era.  Yes, Before Personal Coaches.

One can now recruit a personal coach, interview several potential candidates then pick the one we wish to assist us to do a job more effectively and/or to progress in our careers.

Personal coaches are now part of the fabric of networking, advancing and beating the competition.  In my growing up years, we had no personal coaches as such.  Instead, we had mentors.

A mentor would appear without the prerequisite interview. 

They were not hired. 

There was no transaction, except for that one day when you just knew you had met your mentor.  It is hard to tell how you knew you were in the presence of your mentor one fateful day, but you just knew it.

I have to admit that the process was rather informal, highly personal and not as military sounding as it seems to be today, when personal coaches begin by plotting “strategy and tactics” to build up someone’s career.

Mentoring one semester at a time

Maybe we called it differently, although the goals were similar: the mentor would discover you, would then decide that you were worth cultivating to take you as high as your potential—-and your own goals—-could advance you. 

As part of “strategy” the good old mentors would hold regular meetings with you, review what progress you had made, and ask about your immediate goals for the next few days or months. The mentors I knew dealt with “semesters”, which seemed more realistic than “ a lifetime.“  But all those semesters of mentoring added to lifetime of realizations.

No matter how formal or informal the mentoring process is, everyone needs a mentor.

The first Mentor

The original Mentor is a character in Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey. When Odysseus, King of Ithaca, went to fight in the Trojan War, he entrusted the care of his kingdom to Mentor. Mentor served as the teacher and overseer of Odysseuss’ son, Telemachus.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a mentor as “a trusted counselor or guide.“ For their Mentor/Protégé Program, the Anesthesiology Department of Cleveland’s MetroHealth System defines mentor as “a wise, loyal advisor or coach.“

Wise and loyal. Those are the two key words that best define the mentors I was lucky to have. I refuse to use the word coach to describe any of them.

My first mentor

Her name was Miss Ann Congelo, and she taught English at Miami High. It was my junior year and we were studying American literature, for which I felt passionate from day one. One author after the other opened different avenues and presented me with a variety of different English words, Americanisms and sentence structures that combined to teach me the language, as well as the culture of my new country.

Enter Miss Congelo, who died young. 

She was the definition of teacher (aren’t all mentors?).  Loved her subject matter, knew it like an expert, and did not count the hours she spent in the classroom, which is why, when I told her that I was interested in reading additional books to the ones assigned in our class list, she looked at me with her big green eyes, smiled, and offered to create a book list for me. 

We decided to meet twice a week so I could offer “book reports” and tell her about my readings.  Miss Congelo would read Emily Dickinson’s melancholic poetry, stopping to tell me what some of the words meant.

Miss Congelos’ favorite Dickinson poem was “if you were coming in the fall”.  When she read it to me, we were the only two people in the room, sitting by her desk, next to those big Miami High School windows, the tall palm trees swaying just outside.  I was only 15, but I could tell that Miss Congelo had memorized the words in the poem, and would close her eyes, look away from me, and feel each word of the poem.

No better way to learn English.  Without knowing it, I had discovered my first mentor.  To this day, every time I use the word “nimble” I remember Miss Congelo, who taught it to me.

I always wondered if Miss Congelo, like Emily Dickinson, had failed to realize her romantic fantasies.  I have often thought about it as I re read this poem.

If you were coming in the fall,
I’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spum,
As housewives do a fly.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Of course, Miss Congelo would ask me me to underline words I did not understand. In this poem, a dozen: spum, befalls, Van Dieman’s land,yonder, rind, goads, goblin bee. Miss Congelo will patiently tell me what each word meant, then she would pronounce it slowly, looking at me, making me look at her lips.

First class mentoring from a teacher who died too young. I am happy she was in my life.

Enter Miss G

At Miami-Dade College, I first met my next mentor, Barbara Garfunkel, one hot day in July.  It was the summer break but I could not wait to get into the staff of the student newspaper, Falcon Times, and the first step was to meet the advisor.  I knew, at the end of that meeting that July 17, 1965 would be a day I would remember. Indeed, at home we had one of those old calendars in our kitchen where you would rip each page off at the end of the day.  That night, I saved July 17 in my diary. I knew I had met someone who would make a difference.

Petite, green eyed, and always impeccably dressed in print dresses, and matching custom jewelry, Barbara Garfunkel was the grand dame of journalism education in Miami. Anyone you met at The Miami Herald or The Miami News had been a student of Miss G.  She had mentored many, and was proud of it. You mentioned Miss G in the newsrooms around Miami and people smiled, and then proceeded to recount a Miss G anecdote.

Mentors teach.

Mentors mold.

Mentors see in you what you still don’t see in yourself.

They possess special lenses, perhaps, or an antenna that picks up vibes in that person sitting across from them.  Whatever it was, Miss G spent two hours with me that first day I met her, explained all about the newspaper, and welcomed me in it.  The rest was hard work and discipline, which, by the way, is always the case.
Mentors guide you, mentors don’t give you discipline or do the work for you.

The best mentors demand without making it sound like an order. You simply do not wish to disappoint the mentor, so you try harder. There is nothing wrong with working extra hard not to disappoint, especially if the person you don’t wish to disappoint is yourself.
For Miss G, perfection was the key.  I would write my weekly column for the Falcon Times, and she would sit there with me, pushing me to explain a point I had made better, or questioning an assumption not based on facts. I learned tons from Miss G; to this day,  I often feel her presence near me when I am writing and see her, pencil in hand, deleting, adding, enhancing the copy.

Then along comes Dr. Sanderson

At the University of South Florida, my mentor quickly became Professor Arthur (Sandy) Sanderson, a Minnesotan who had made Florida home. A short man with a little white hair, he also had a sort of blondish moustache, the result of his constant smoking. In those days, if the professor smoked, he did it in his office.

With Dr. Sanderson, it was first class mentoring, and second hand smoke.

First class mentoring it was.  Dr. Sanderson took me under his wing as I became editor of the University’s daily, The Oracle, and he ran the newsroom like it was The New York Times. You had to follow style, meet deadlines, and rewrite, rewrite and rewrite, till all facts were checked three times.

The University of South Florida in 1968 was exploring a medical school (it now has it, and it is nationally recognized), so I was doing weekly stories on the planning stages for the school.  I would think I would have it all, return to the newsroom, then Dr. Sanderson,a cigarette forever dangling from the side of his mouth, blue eyes moving from side to side as he read, would take a pencil and cross entire lines out, put question marks here or there, then look at me with a barrage of questions about what I had left out of the story.

“Go back to these two sources, Mario,“ he would say in his Midwestern accent.  “There is more to the story than you project here. Push those sources. Make them tell you more.“

My defenses would drop. I would feel disarmed. But a power within me would propel me to return to the sources of my story, and to rewrite it, then sit with the patient but demanding professor again.  At the end, the story was complete, and my mentor, Dr. Sanderson, would give me praise and incentive.

Mentors do that. They push you hard. They praise you accordingly.  To the mentors, you are a teddy bear.  Ironically, to the mentorees, the mentors ARE the teddy bears.  They make you feel safe and comfortable within your own boundaries.

In Oklahoma, Jim Paschal

I had already graduated, and I was teaching, when I won a Newspaper Fund Fellowship to study at the University of Oklahoma.  It was an honor for a college professor to get such a Fellowship, and 12 of us gathered there to study for three weeks, and become better teachers.

That is how I met one of my most theatrically memorable mentors: the late Prof. James F. Paschal.  He would become a lifelong friend to me and my family.  Jim Paschal taught journalism, but he had a passion for scholastic journalism, student newspapers and yearbooks, and he was certain that participation in student publications made a student a better citizen, regardless of whether they were interested in a journalism career.  Of course, after students attended a Jim Paschal workshop, THEY forever wanted to go into journalism. Legions of his students did.

Jim played the piano like a pro, and he loved everything about Walt Disney (had held a job at Disneyland in California during his college years). To this day, when I hear the signature Disney song “When you Wish upon a Star” i immediately think of Jim Paschal and his passion for our profession, his impeccable timing in front of a class (master teacher that he was), and the fact that he was a showman, knew it and did not try to hide it.

Two weeks into the workshop at Oklahoma, Jim pulled me aside one day and said: “You were born to teach, and I think I’d like to join me on a workshop for high school and college journalists next month.“

Showman Jim and showman Mario hit the road to do workshops nationally from coast to coast that summer, and for many years after that.
My mentor Jim taught me that passion is the key and that perfection is not a choice.
I loved that man and what he meant to me, Maria and the children.

Yes, all of my mentors are now deceased.  But mentors brand you.  Their teachings, guidance, recommendations and, most importantly, their faith in you,, stays there, intact.  When you begin to have self doubts, you can see their faces, hear their voices, believing in you.  Then, somehow, you straighten yourself up, give them a nod and move on.

Then, suddenly, the constant evolution of life in all its manifestations makes YOU a mentor.

I have mentored many, and I am honored that they would give me the chance. I continue to do that, and will probably do it to the end.
Mentors believe in you and push you to pursue your dreams.

In my view, nobody makes it without that mentor and that push.

The good mentors are happy when the mentorees fly higher than they did.

It happened to Madonna when her mentoree, Gwyneth Paltrow, won the Oscar for best actress.

So, Miss Congelo, Miss G, Dr. Sanderson and Jim Paschal, there would be no 40 Years/40 Lessons without the enormous role that you played in my life.

And, Prof. Paschal, you taught me, in the great Disney tradition, that if you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are.

I will add that the difference is the mentor you hitch your star to.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

3.Teacher..
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_3—teacher/

Do they expect to sell any copies?

This gray and boring front page of Le Monde sat there at 7 pm last night with no takers. Is it any wonder?

As I got out of the Paris Metro last night, in the midst of the rush hour at the Havre — Caumartin station, I must have been the only commuter to notice this lonely, sad, gray front page of the legendary Parisien daily Le Monde, staring at me——like that puppy at the animal shelter, who knows that nobody will adopt him.

Here is the front page of a newspaper of a certain status where gravitas and seriousness tend to drown in a sea of type, small headlines and a passport size photo. Who, in the busy corridors of the underground, can spot anything here at a distance?  If this is not aimed at street sales, to seduce readers on the way to and from work, then perhaps it should not sit there at all.

As far as front page design exercises go, this one should be filed under the “read me at your peril” category. Too bad. Good newspaper, great stories, and nice logo.  But, in today’s environment, a little seduction on page one applies to all——including the venerable Le Monde.

TheMarioBlog post #494

TAKEAWAY: For Indian dailies today, two major stories breaking just about the same time. What is the page one designer to do?  Only one can really capture the attention of the reader.  We show you how some Indian newspapers handled it. PLUS:The National Enquirer and a Pulitzer?ALSO: Paris postcard: Try Ferdi’s tapas and ambience AND:Coming tomorrow in 40 Years/40 Lessons: Mentors.

The two-story lead front page

It is always reason for heavy discussions in the newsrooms: the day when two stories command great attention, so which one is the front page going to display as lead?

One of our regular readers in India, Sajeev Kumar t.k, visual editor of the Keralakaumudi, makes us aware of the situation and sends us some front pages for us to display here—-and to get your comments, of course.  And, as always, if you have faced the “what to do with two big stories for page one” dilemma, and you think you solved it successfully, send me those pages via email: mario@garcia-media.com

Here is how Sajeev describes the situation for the Feb. 24 editions:

Yesterday was a challenging day for Indian newsdesigners.We have Railway budget and Sachin Tendulkars world record cricket performance in that day.Usually Railway budget grabs three fourths of the space in the front page.Most of the dailies have one ad in the page one.For vernacular newspapers like us we have to accommodate the states’ pre-budget session in page one.

From what I see on these pages, most gave the cricket record performance the top play——a good way to attract the young segment of the readership. The railway budget story took second place.  My advice in these situations is simple: not to decide is to decide, so if the editor and designer give two stories equal play, none wins.  Bank on one story/image, and play it as your lead (in this case the cricket story), then display the secondary story a little bigger and more prominently than you would a not-so-important secondary item.

Times of India: Big headline REALLY tells you which is the lead story here, but the Railway story gets good play. Photo of the cricket star could be much bigger, considering how large the headline over it is.

Indian Express: Something went wrong here, but the play of the photo is great.  Problem: that headline with blue background does not connect with the story. It could be an advertising, it could be an advertisement, but NOT the headline for the main story.  Sometimes less is best.  And, please, could they consider redesigning the logo of this newspaper?

Keralakaumudi: One of the vernacular language dailies.  In this case, the Railway Budget story leads the page, although the designer made an effort to give the cricket record performance top play as well. Perhaps an interesting way to deal with that story on the edge of the page, but I wonder how many gravitated there.  Not sure how to react, as I do like the “edgy” display for cricket, just not sure if it is prominent enough. Your take?

Hindustantimes: No question where the lead is here, all six columns across with cricket story, but the Railroad Budget gets its good play. Good job.

DNA: Here we have the most traditional way to deal with the “two lead” dilemma—-the so called “armpit”.  Old and handy, I would say, although not always the best way to do it.  Some may even say it is a cop out—-put a big headline for the most “serious” story, then accommodate the most “fun” story under it.  To me, this is a way of NOT deciding.

Paris postcard

Try Ferdis in Paris: small place with grand ambience, and, who knows, perhaps a Penelope Cruz sighting

Penelope Cruz has declared Ferdi as her favorite spot for dining in Paris.  In fact, she loves the cheeseburger there, claiming it is the best anywhere.

But it was my friend and colleague, Fabiola Santiago, that fabulous fellow Cuban American Miami Herald writer and novelist (Reclaiming Paris), who introduced me to Ferdi.

“You must go, Mario, and please enjoy a few tapas for me,“ she advised me in an email.

I have become a regular, and I recommend it.  Friendly waiter Oliver knows me and welcomes me and my guests with gusto every time.  However, make your reservations ahead of time. Ferdis is grand for its cuisine and ambience, but rather petite when it comes to number of tables.

It is a narrow hallway of a place, complete with vintage photos on the wall, miniature toy cars of another era on both sides of the walls, and a menu with black letters printed on deep red that is very hard to read for patrons of a certain age.

But, alas, no need to read the carte. Ask Oliver for recommendations, which he will give you gladly, with a smile.

Ferdis is Spanish———Luis Miguel sings El Dia Que Me Quieras in the background, and an occasional slow salsa follows the boleros——and tapas is the trademark, so ask for six or seven different tapas: the chorizo is a favorite, but you can go exotic with a little tapa of chicken and curry (Ok, Ferdis goes Asian, too, so don’t forget the Thailandese rolls), continue with those “piquillos” (Spanish red peppers) that are always so tasty that one plate is not enough for a table of 4, so order two.  The jamon serrano is a must—-if you like the Spanish ham that arrives all curled up on the plate, a mountain of it, actually.

Last night, a Venezuelan meat tapas—-cachapas——was a great addition, and one we are sure Penelope would like.

“Here, we can wait”, say the happy staffs’ T-shirts.
By the way, although I did not have the famous Penelope cheeseburger, it goes for 18 €. Also good, the guasacaca (avocados, tomatoes, onions, coriandre, 10 €), boquerones (12 €), and the gaspacho with herbs is a must (12 €).

Wash it all down with a wide selection of Latin American wines, and, of course, all the French champagne you may want to accompany the piquillos and enchiladas.

But, keep an eye out for who is coming and going, or that person whose neck is a couple of hairs away from yours, it could be Penelope, or some former Miss Venezuela.

If you go:

Ferdi
32, r. du Mont-Thabor
75001 PARIS
T 01 42 60 82 52
Metro: Tuileries
Cateogry: See and be seen
Open daily: 18h30 to 23h; Saturdays 13h15 to 23h30.

Spring could not be far behind

Windows of the Parisian department store Printemps: Alice in Wonderland is the theme for spring fashion

It is rainy and still cold outside, but, voilå, take a look at the windows of the mega Parisien store, Printemps, and spring is one happy glance away.  The windows’ motif for spring is the story of Alice in Wonderland.  Everyone is a rabbit in this window. Enjoyable. Yes, you can hear the story as you run or walk by.

Enquirer and Pulitzer: strange bedfellows

Front pages from The National Enquirer, the colorful US weekly tabloid

I could not really believe my eyes when I read a column by Ross Douthat, in the International Herald Tribune, stating that this year, for the first time in its history, The National Enquirer will be in the running for a Pulitzer Prize.

I am thinking what my journalism professors and mentors would say. They are all dead right now, which is not a bad thing.  I remember how the Enquirer would appear from time to time as the ultimate example of sensational journalism, exaggeration, sex, lies and innuendo.

However, it is a story that involves sex and lies——and a famous politician, John Edwards——that has catapulted the colorful weekly to prominence.  For those who may have been in hiding, or outside the US, the Edwards story has it all, and, indeed, The Enquirer’s journalists pursued it with Watergate style passion and papparazzi devotion, a good mix in this case.  As a result, the Enquirer went where other journalists did not, revealing in its stories that Edwards, who appeared to be a devoted husband to his cancer-stricken wife, was, instead, having an affair, and fathering a child.  This may not be too important or intriguing, except that Edwards was seeking the Democratic presidential nomination at the time.

Douthat’s column makes a good point: “The Internet is very good at generating gossip, but lousy at the dogged work of transforming rumor into news……the result is salacious overkill one moment, but unexpected indifference the next.“

The Enquirer’s staff obviously did not turn indifferent. Now the question is, will the Pulitzer Prize committee take the Enquirer’s candidacy for its top prize with indifference.

Already, the Pulitzer camp is mentioning two technicalities that may disquality the tabloid from entering the contest: its website describes it as a weekly magazine, NOT a newspaper; the stories in question were researched and published in 2007/08.

We wait for the big headline!

Meanwhile, just the simple act of Googling Enquirer and Pulitzer on the same line is, well, something that requires getting used to.

Coming tomorrow Friday.

TheMarioBlog post #492

TAKEAWAY: Taking a look at those colorful press kiosks with dozens of magazines, one ponders many questions about the future of print, but, more precisely, what makes for a good magazine cover?  We turn to one of the world’s busiest and most recognized magazine designer, Robert Newman, for answers to our curiosity. PLUS: Coming soon, next installment of 40 Years/40 Lessons: Mentors.

We spend time with that magazine design guru, Bob Newman, who takes time off meeting his deadline to chat with us about magazine covers

Who’s that girl on the cover?

Perhaps this blog post was inspired by my dinner last night with Olivier Royant, editor of France’s Paris Match.  Or by the fact that Rodrigo Fino, of our Garcia Media Latinoamerica, who is working here in Paris with me, has a hobby of taking pictures of news kiosks he sees around the world in his travels.

Of course, we are here to complete a prototype for France Football, the twice-weekly magazine devoted entirely to football, so our daily conversations are about covers, inside spreads, navigation and the like.

However, as I looked at the photos of how kiosks in places as varied as Fortaleza (Brazil), Miami and Buenos Aires, I had to agree with Rodrigo’s assessment that all the covers look the same. Is there no experimentation in magazine cover design anymore?

Who better than my friend and colleague Bob Newman, a man who has designed hundreds of magazine covers during a stellar career——and who was on deadline, closing another magazine, when I contacted him——to answer my question.  With a six-hour time difference between us——Bob is in New York City—-I sent Bob the images, and then had him respond.

Why the sameness?

Who is that girl in the swimsuit? Research shows that all readers like the image of the girl in a bikini

Mario: Bob, what do you think of how similar these covers look?

Bob: I can’t get over the photo you sent with all the women in bathing suits. It’s the same cover, over and over. Astonishing.

One thing about kiosks/newsstands, is that they’re really not a relevant factor in the US. We urban dwellers give them a much more imporant focus than they really have in terms of actual sales. Of course newsstand sales are down just about across the board, but there are still plenty of magazines in the US that sell hundreds of thousands and even over a million copies on the stands. They are primarily women’s magazines. I think that sales for men’s magazines are slight, and sales for newsweeklies and business mags have plummeted. So any study or comments on newsstand presence in the States really has to be about women’s magazines (and tabloids, which are essentially women’s mags with celebrity content). The equivalent of that photo you sent would be an American stand with Us, People, In Touch, Life & Style, Star, etc., all with multiple-image covers, big, bright yellow headlines, and lots of cover lines. But for those magazines, newsstand sales are still essential. There’s a huge swing between a good seller and a bad, and that means, for starters, a lot of money gained or lost, as well as status and hype.

On the subject of sameness, Bob Newman cites a topic——testing—-which may give us the answer to why so many covers end up looking alike.  When you take a cover to test, people tend to favor the same things.  Here’s Bob’s take on it:

In the US, practically all magazines now do cover testing, often for every issue. TV Guide tests every cover with multiple stories and images. We did the same thing at Southern LIving and Cottage Living; tested every cover. And one thing testing does is it slides everything to the same place. You certainly could make the argument that the sameness of cover design is a direct result of constant testing. I really believe that. People like women in bathing suits, so those covers test well, so that’s what gets run. At TV Guide, they always ask people if they like little extra photos on the cover. Of course they say yes, who doesn’t like some extra photos? So they always run extra little photos.

What sells on a cover?

I personally think that the story is the main ingredient. Once you have the good story (the one people are extremely hungry for), then design/graphics/photography do the rest. 

Then we also come into the territory of appealing to the masses, versus the more elaborate (or abstract) covers, which do not guarantee success at the newstand.  Bob presents this point very clearly here.

The determining factor in success has to be how well it sells. A cover can look different or pop off the newsstand, but does it sell in numbers like the rest? I find it odd that the more that Star, Us, etc. began to look alike, the more copies they sold. There’s no logic to that, but it’s true. How do people differentiate between those magazines, or the various swimsuit magazines in your photo? It’s probably and unfortunately less about the design, and more about the celebrity pictured. For example, since I’ve been consulting at TV Guide, I’ve found out that their covers sell best when the star on the cover looks most like they do in their TV show. The more they are in character, wearing the character’s clothes and facial expression, the better it sells. They recently had two successful beautiful cover shots of actresses out of character, both stars of big shows, very attractive, smiling, but both covers were sales disappointments, because they didn’t look enough like they do on TV. It’s obvious when I look at those newsstands that it’s first and foremost about who is on the cover. If you can attract eyeballs with that, then they look at the cover line. That whole process can’t take more than a second or two at the most. Covers that are distinctive probably require too much time and energy to gaze through and to understand.

TV Guide’s cover

Bob Newman on TV Guide covers

“TV Guide tests all their covers, like many magazines. Their testing consistently shows that readers like the small added photos in the strip on the side of the page. That’s been the response at every magazine I’ve worked at that has tested covers. The readers always say that they want more pictures, more of everything. The question in my mind is whether there’s value in that, or they’re just responding to a question that isn’t really that essential to their engagement with the magazine. Arguably the value of the pictures is that it makes the magazine seem more valuable, more packed with stories and variety. The downside is that the cover loses its graphic potency, and the main image is cramped and overpowered to some extent. But the bottom line, does that detract from the overall success of the cover on the newsstand? Probably not.

What sells in American newstands may be different from other places

Different places sell magazines differently.

In my experience, there is ONE constant: people want MORE items on the cover, more of the cover as navigator.  I see this in focus groups around the world, and in a variety of extremely different magazines, from the general interest mags to sports to business. More seems to be better for readers on the covers of their magazines.

Oh, how about iPad mag editions?

And, by the way, if we get ahead to Apple’s iPad: I can see the end of the single-topic cover when you iPad your magazine.  Of course, there will be ONE topic that is the traditional “cover story”, but I see the second best topic mano a mano with the main one.  And also think that the iPadization of magazines will bring us the multi-cover magazine——cover one, cover two, cover three, with advertising providing cover four!  But, let’s not get ahead, and get back to magazines as we know them today:

Back to American newsstand sales. The bulk of American magazines are sold in either supermarkets, Wal-marts, or drugstores. Only a tiny fraction are bought at Barnes & Nobles type bookstores, airports, or actual newsstands. I don’t have any hard figures, but I’d guess it’s something like 95%. I think there was a time when both Maxim and Cosmopolitan were kicked out of Wal-mart for being too sexually provocative. That cost them dearly, and they have to consciously not do certain things to maintain their presence in those stores. Supermarket sales are all about display and position. But it’s also about people waiting in line, and picking up copies and looking at them. So it makes sense to have more coverlines, because they’re probably going to spend a little more time closer up to the cover than someone would at an airport or newsstand.

In difficult times, reach for the safe teddy bear

Which one would you pick and take home?

The magazines always market themselves more than newspapers do, so Bob is right when he tells me that in tough economic times (we are still going thru them, by the way), magazine people are scared to try anything different. “No one is going to break away and try something different or groundbreaking. If something works, they’re going to stick with it,“ says Bob.

Beyond selling on impulse, what else do magazine covers accomplish?

Obviously, we have always talked about a magazine (or newspaper)  passing that important “coffee table test”.  So, the cover sold the magazine, but we want readers to read it once they got it.

Bob agrees:

Another key function of the cover is to get the person who has already bought the magazine to read it. That’s what we refer to as the coffeetable or desktop as newsstand. It’s not enough to get them to buy it; you also need them to read it. Advertisers are paying for reader engagement. They want to see that readers are spending time with each issue. So the mags have to entice readers to actually pick up the magazine and read through it. People are busy, and it’s easy to let magazines sit on a table for a week or a month. A series of appealing headlines can get a reader to pick up the magazine and start looking through it.

Sex, nudity and the Jolie-Pitts factor

I am not surprised to hear Bob tell me that provocation through sex, nudity and perhaps the gossipy tales of famous people is a selling factor.  Our culture is extremely voyeuristic, and we don’t lack willing participants, from politicians like John Edwards and Mark Sanford, to sportsmen like Tiger Woods, and, of course, la Jolie, Madonna, Rihanna, Beyonce and dozens more.  Bob laments that if one is looking for creativity or forward thinking on magazine covers, we are not going to find it.

They are purely about commerce these days. Covers that are provocative are only that way to drive sales, and today’s idea of provocative appears about 99% of the time to be sex or nudity, which I think of as phony provocation. A naked celebrity is considered edgy and gets news. But there’s no way that a big mainstream magazine is going to consciously do something to provoke its readers. They’re too scared of losing subscribers, or of boycotts, or of getting kicked out of Wal-Mart.

Bob’s favorite magazine covers

Guaranteed to surprise: New York, Wired

We agree on two that are always surprising, energetic, and different: New York and Wired.

They’re smart and different from issue to issue, and they provoke and engage at the same time. They also have a lot of energy, and feel very unique and distinct, full of character. And they engage in a conversation with the reader/newsstand buyer.

Covers that surprise

Cover of DIVA

Britain’s Four by Two

Rodrigo Fino’s blog about this topic: in Spanish

http://www.garcia-media.com.ar/blog/post/diferenciaciones-de-portada-ii/84

Photo of the Day: Paris

Don’t miss the next installment: 40 Years/40 Lessons

TheMarioBlog post #491

TAKEAWAY: It is a sleeper of a story for most, but not for the Argentineans, so it is interesting to see how British and Argentinean newspapers are covering the story of the Falkland Islands and the likelihood of finding oil there.  AND: London’s The Observer’s redesign: something new, something familiar . We go into the Garcia Media attic and what do we find? PLUS: Spanish magazines: marketing in a bag AND: London’s The Observer’s redesign: something new, something familiar

Front page story here, inside page story there!

A sampling of Argentine and British newspapers yesterday

Front pages of Argentina’s La Nacion and Clarin, both with lead stories on the Falkland Islands story

Meanwhile, the British newspapers ignore the Falkland Islands story totally.

Those old enough to remember the Falkland War know that it came and went in a flash, starting on April 2, 1982, and ending with a defeat for Argentina June 14 of the same year.

Las Malvinas, as they are called in Spanish, has always been a sore topic for the Argentines, who claim that the territory of the islands in the South Atlantic are rightfully theirs; the British disagree.  I recall American coverage of this short war, and how my fellow Americans were making a geographic discovery, and wondering why the big fuss was over an island populated mostly by sheep and rocks.

Well, let’s move ahead to winter 2010 and now a British oil rig has started drilling off the Falkland Islands in a move likely to provoke further tensions between Argentina and the UK over the disputed South Atlantic territory. According to CNN, in a statement to the London Stock Exchange, British oil and gas exploration company Desire Petroleum said the Ocean Guardian rig had begun drilling an exploration well in the North Falkland Basin, some 100 kilometers (60 miles) north of the islands. What’s the take?

Desire estimates that the North Falkland Basin could contain 3.5 billion barrels of oil as well as having “significant gas potential.“ The exploratory drilling is expected to last around 30 days.

Page One coverage

So, we turn to the front pages in the UK and Argentina to see what impact this potentially explosive story has.

For the newspapers in Argentina, this is the stuff to lead with on Page One.  There is national pride and patriotism involved, not to mention reviving the fervor about the old gripe: Las Malvinas are ours, say the Argentine editors, echoing the feelings of the population.

Then you turn to the British press, and the story does not make it on Page One, and hardly anywhere.  The front page editors apparently do not consider the story of any consequence, sending it to the inside bottom corners.

Our Rodrigo Fino, of Garcia Media Latinoamerica, calls it “indifference” and he writes about it in his blog of today (in Spanish).

Stay tuned for what’s ahead with this story. If I were an art director, I would have my info graphics people dusting off the old maps and getting ready to use them——maybe on Page One.

The Observer: looks familiar

Front page of The Observer, London

In 2005, Garcia Media’s team had the privilege of working with a talented group of editors and designers at London’s The Observer, the oldest Sunday newspaper still in existance.  Just recently, The Observer has undergone some changes in its design. Of course, we are curious and wanted to see what this new chapter in the newspaper’s graphic history would be.

We are happy with what we see, a design probably executed in house.  In fact, many of the elements that we see as part of the news page design are elements that we had created for the Review section.  Some nice uses of type, and great use of photos, which has always been a landmark of The Observer’s offerings.

Evolution is what it is all about, and for The Observer, I feel that this was the right next step.  Considering that we kept reading about the paper’s possible demise not too long ago, we are happy to see that it is still here, strutting its stuff and doing it well.

For case study of the Garcia Media redesign of The Observer in 2005:
http://garciamedia.com/blog/articles/the_observer_of_london_redesigning_a_classic

Our Observer redesign: visiting the files

These are dummies for sample pages we tried as we found our way through The Observer and tried to find the right formula for its front page, logo and navigation.

We would experiment with various colors for the top logo/navigator

Two versions of Business section opener: my favorite was the one on left, but the newsier one won the day!

The travel section Escape: we did the logo in bold and light (my preference was for light, but the bold prevailed)

One beautiful spread to show how to do an in-depth profile: this page sang as beautifully as Annie Lennox

Looking at the new layout of The Observer tempted me to dig into our archives to reminisce about that wonderful project.  I remember that we tried to come up with different versions for a logo—-more color, a variety of pastel hues, with the idea of changing it every Sunday (no, that did not go over so well, but it was worth trying——which is the spirit of the early prototype stages for every project).  Some front pages were too newsy, others not newsy enough.  We had tremendous fun experimenting, as you can see with these front pages, none of which was considered beyond 15 minutes as we put them on the board for a “gallery walk”.

My tip here: don’t ever get too attached to your ideas, because others may not find them so fascinating when you present them.  This may lead to extreme disappointment. I usually give myself 30 minutes to confront disappointment, then put those pages out of my sight, and concentrate on creating the new ones.

But, I look at these pages six years after we created them, and I tell my team that they are still interesting.  Revisiting one’s work is a good exercise. I recommend it. Just don’t dwell on it.  Sort of when you go into your attic and discover your high school yearbook, or the picture of you as a 4-year-old learning to ride a bike, or Aunt Clara’s wedding tiara.  Take a look, smile upon the nice memories, and get out of the attic soon——the present is waiting.  If you are like me, your hunger for the now is so much stronger than for what was!

The Oklahoman: SND Award of Excellence for Redesign

Front page of today’s The Oklahoman

Congratulations are in order for our friends at The Oklahoman, of Oklahoma City.  They have won an Award of Excellence from SND for the redesign we completed together in 2008.

For The Oklahoman’s story, go here:
http://newsok.com/article/3441494

It’s in the bag

Magazines, like newspapers, are going through tough times seducing readers into buying them and reading them.

So, for Spanish magazines, it is all in the bag——the big bag that they offer as a gift to lure customers.  While in Paris, and looking through those fabulous press kiosks on the Champs Élysées, one can’t ignore—-isn’t that the point?—- the big magazines inside those huge plastic wrappers that include the magazine, the bag and extras.  On a rainy day like today in Paris one wonders if the umbrella offering will be next.

TheMarioBlog post #490

An iPad in my head

I don’t know about you, but I am iPadding my way through print, and it is an unconscious thing.  It happened again yesterday in New York City.  I waited to read the fat Sunday edition of The New York Times until I had settled comfortably in the Lufthansa lounge at JFK airport.  With two hours to kill before boarding my flight to Frankfurt, I figured that I would indulge in one of my favorite pastimes: the Sunday Times.  Yes, I usually read it online, or on my iPhone.  So what a special treat to hold the pages in my hand, see all those movie and theater full page ads in the flesh.

But then, suddenly, the iPad thoughts merge with my reading of the printed edition, and all I can think is : how would the Times present this story in the iPad?

Specifically, a page one story headlined For Professor, Fury Just Beneath the Surface about the professor arrested in the shooting of six faculty members at the University of Alabama in Huntsville on Feb. 12 .  Would an iPad version of this story allows us to see video of the professor perhaps talking about her scientific creation of an automated cell incubator that was supposed to keep finicky cells, like nerve cells, alive longer and make experiments easier.  The Times did have a multimedia show included with this story, so I wondered how much more would be done for an iPad.

Tben there was the “easier” story to tabletize, about the great Meryl Streep and headlined That Unmistakable Streepness. The online edition offered a slide show, a gallery of photos of the actress in various roles.  However, the iPad could give us video clips perhaps as we read the lines about her incredible movie career. I can see us reading Kramer vs. Kramer, and the short clip coming on.  Question: what would that do for our attention span? Would we return to the story?

As I passed through those colorful full page ads in Travel, Arts & Leisure and Home & Style, I wondered what animated version of those would be.  For movie ads, would trailers be available?  For travel: would I be transported to exotic places through video clips?  If so, is there a danger that the incredibly beautiful, animated and colorful ads may compete with editorial content for our attention?

My iPad fantasies kept me busy going section by section. I am sure that the New York Times is already doing tryouts of how these stories will iPad themselves onto the screen.  Until the real thing is here, I think it is a good exercise for us to look at what we include in the printed edition and seriously consider the content’s iPad potential.

One question I took to my pillow as I decided to sleep during the Atlantic crossing: how will the iPad edition be different from the online edition?  Of course, the two media are different, the question is how different, and what modes of utilization will the new gadget dictate to differentiate it from reading on a laptop.

- iPad: Publishers look for the winning formula
http://www.mondaynote.com/2010/02/21/ipad-publishers-look-for-the-winning-formula/

Results of the SND contest, 31st edition

More than 10,000 entries, more than 1,000 winners: the results of SND’s 31st
Annual Creative Competition are now posted in a searchable database.

To search for winners by category, publication or other criteria, go to:
http://office.snd.org/competitions/contest31.lasso

TheMarioBlog post #489

TAKEAWAY: The question remains and what better setting to discuss it than with a group of young student journalists in the newsroom of the Yale Daily News, at Yale University.. Stay tuned for updates on the subject throughout the day today. PLUS: 40 Years/40Lessons, segment 3: Teacher.

Recent front pages from the Yale Daily News

My visit to the Yale Daily News newsroom was a whirlwind of activity. Two years after my colleague Dr. Pegie Stark Adam, and I, worked with the students on a redesign of the YDN, this was a maintenance visit to see how the design had evolved.

Of course, such a visit is a must for any project, but more important when working with a student newspaper, where the editors change yearly.

Few of the students who were on the original redesign project remain.  Instead, I got to meet a new crop of students, including freshmen members of the class of 2013.  We did critiques of each section of the newspaper, including the website, as well as the Yale Magazine.

A good discussion of the front page followed, complete with sketches on how to change the page to accommodate specific journalistic and visual content.

At the end of a busy day, I certainly did not wish to leave.  The Yale University campus is vibrant, architecturally exciting and full of history.  However, it is the students who make it special.  To sit with them for a day, to watch them interact with each other, and to hear their views and the passion they feel for storytelling and for their Yale Daily News is a good reminder that there is a bright future ahead for what we do.

The teacher in me loves days like today.

Leading on the right, on the left, or in the middle?

Where is your lead story here? The New York Times

Well, the one on the right has a bigger headline: The Los Angeles Times

Where did your eyes go first? But, yes, the lead is the banner under the logo: San Jose Mercury News

London’s The Times, and lead on the left

Where does the lead story begin on Page One of a newspaper?

Not that many people discuss this topic anymore, as they hurry up to tabletize, integrate print and digital and worry about how much to charge readers for content.

But, alas, I am spending the day on campus at Yale University, working with the editors of the Yale Daily News, which we had the pleasure of redesigning in 2008. The YDN team student journalists are an enthusiastic, smart and ever so eager to learn and to quote the rules group!

Last night, as we discussed how to put together Page One for today’s editions of the Yale Daily News, the question came up several times: Don’t readers expect the lead story to be on the right hand side of the page?

Of course, the answer is YES if you are in the United States, and working for some newspapers that still adhere to the rule;  the answer is NO if you are designing the Page One of a newspaper elsewhere in the world.

My own answer is MAYBE, and there is little research to support that readers go there automatically first.  I am convinced that the lead—-the main point of entrance—-is a Center of Visual Impact which may be a photo, illustration or any other prominent headline and module on the front page.

Obviously, I had to check all of this out.  After all, I have not thought of the “lead on the right” dilemma for years.

A quick review of front pages from US newspapers shows that a majority place their lead on the right, while others don’t.

As for the Europeans, from The Guardian to the Frankfurter Allegemeine, the lead is more likely to be on the left.

So, you may ask, what did you guys find out about this hot topic when doing those Poynter EyeTrack studies?

Truly, the big photo on the page commands the first attention.  We know that for sure. We could not record that the eyes migrate to the right in search of the editor’s choice of a lead.

What is fascinating is to see a 20-year-old who never heard of Ed Arnold and his newspaper design axioms quoting the “Americans expect their lead story on the right” mantra.

Somehow, it was a good way to close the evening, and I now look forward to a further, more elaborate (not on deadline) discussion with those editors at the Yale Daily News today.

Here I am standing just outside the historic Yale Daily News building on the campus of Yale University

Call me teacher

This is part 3 of my occasional series 40 Years/40 Lessons, which I call a “sort of career memoir” capturing highlights and reminiscing about what has been a spectacular journey for me, doing what I love most.  Today’s segment: Teaching is my favorite part of the job.

It is unmistakeable.  When I pass through immigration or customs anywhere in the world and they ask me what I do, almost without thinking, I usually say: I am a teacher.

It is what comes natural.  No, I don’t have an academic appointment at the moment, although I give lectures and special classes at various institutions during the year, including The Poynter Institute for Media Studies, a dear place to me.

Teaching, however, is what I do everyday.  The newsroom is a classroom.  The lunch hour becomes a mini seminar.  The after dinner conversation just before the launch of a project is almost like a final exam review.  Remember those?

I must say that this is one of the most fascinating aspects of my job, whatever description one gives it. There is a Chinese proverb that tells us that “Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself. “

I’d like to think that I have been opening those doors for two generations of the best students anyone can ever hope for.

It all started in 1970 when my son Mario Jr. was barely four months old. It signaled the start of my career.

Miami-Dade Junior College, North Campus, needed someone to replace the legendary Barbara Garfunkel, one of my dearest mentors (you will read all about her in the Mentor segment of 40Years/40Lessons) , my former journalism professor, and the grand dame of journalism education in Miami for almost 50 years.  Miss G was transferring to Miami-Dade’s South Campus, the newly open campus in the area of town closer to her home.

Not that anybody could truly replaced Miss G, as we all affectionately called her.

Introducing Mr. G

I tried, becoming Mr. G to a legion of students who were barely five years younger than me when I first took up the job of adviser to the award-winning Falcon Times—-the student newspaper—-of which I had been editor in 1967.  The job involved teaching two journalism classes in basic reporting.

As adviser to a student newspaper you become parent substitute, shrink, father confessor and mentor. I relished the roles, all of them, and still have the fondest memories of those days, and the satisfaction of seeing so many of my Miami-Dade students who have gone on to extremely successful media careers.  Several still write me, and anytime I see a Dear Mr. G in the salutation, I know this is one of my Falcon Times kids.  Oh, yes, no matter how old they may be, to me they are always “my kids”.

By 1974, when Miss G decided to retire for good, I again followed in her footsteps, moving to the South Campus to advise the also award winning Catalyst, the weekly campus newspaper.

The student newspaper

Nothing can match the experience one gets working in a student publication, and I treasure my experience both as a student editor of The Oracle, at the University of South Florida, the Falcon Times, and, then, of course, returning as the adviser.

My years as teacher/adviser taught me much.  There is hardly any difference between the river of human emotions that runs thru a student newsroom and what I discovered later in professional environments.  You have the hard workers who are never satisfied with what they do and aim for more; you have the super talented who lack the drive to achieve (few of them usually go anywhere); you have the less talented who set goals and follow them (they win Oscars and Pulitzers and live in the mansion of stability), and you have the insecure, the competitive and the one who should have never entered the room but somehow managed to pass thru the screening.

The main difference I found between a student newsroom and a professional one: the students know they are there to learn and are not afraid to let you guide them by the hand; some professionals tend to see asking for help as a mark of incompetence or lack of knowledge.

I have learned that professionals who don’t let go of the “student” within them will have a more successful career, always learning, forever adding new ways of doing things they have done for a long time. Sort of like the adults not totally abandoning the child in them.

Along comes the opportunity of a lifetime

In 1976, I had a call from my good friend C. Marshall Matlock, of Syracuse University, asking me if I wanted to apply for a position to teach graphic arts at the S. I. Newhouse School of Public Communications.

The icon of newspaper design, Professor Edmund Arnold, was about to retire (not that he did so completely, as he stayed with academics at Virginia Commonwealth University).

Am I supposed to replace legends?, I asked myself.

On the other side of the equation was the idea of leaving warm Florida, with its palm trees swaying outside my Miami-Dade South office, Cuban Miami, our family.  Maria had already lived in Columbus, Ohio, as a teenager and knew all about winters. I didn’t, and she was not emphatic enough in her arguments about snow, ice and driving in the mess.

With four small children in tow (just picture what the budget was—-in a professor’s salary—- to get all of them attired with hats, coats, mittens and snow boots), we decided to move to upstate New York.

Now, I would be teaching exclusively visual journalism——typography, newspaper and magazine design——and I loved the Newhouse School from the first day I stepped into the modern structure with spectacular views of the rest of the Syracuse University campus.  High on a hill, the Newhouse School has an ample terrace that allows for the larger panorama of the city as well.  The communications program, among the best in the world, also offers media students the ultimate panorama of our industry, with almost a course for every area of specialization.

I felt the high as well.  At 29, with a fresh Ph. D from the University of Miami, my youngest of four children (Elena) barely 1 year old, Maria and I quickly adapted to life in North Syracuse, with friendly neighbors, a huge backyard and the seasonal rituals of apple picking in the fall, spring planting, the glorious welcoming of warm summer days, and, of course, snow snow and more snow.

What is a tropical bird like me doing here, I asked myself many February mornings as I shoveled piles of snow outside my garage door so that I could get the car out and drive to the hill, to teach my early morning Introduction to Graphic Arts class, which the catalog described as GRA 217, a required course for all communications majors.  The class was taught in a cozy auditorium to about 120 students.

It was a long stretch to do so on snowy days, but, alas, young professors have the energy to transmit to sleepy students.  We discussed typography, created book covers, moved from magazines to newspapers to television graphics.  I would take home carloads of projects to grade, dividing them 20 at a time, to give each project its proper consideration.

The level of the Syracuse University students elevated me as well.  The students were prepared, eager to learn, many of them gifted and always demanding.  To teach here, one had to be alert, and to be 10 steps ahead of these disciplined and motivated students. A special treat: teaching all those talented photographers from the military, who spent a year at Newhouse perfecting their skills.  I saw life through the lenses of these men and women, who also offered a balance to the young professor and a sharp contrast to the rest of the “regular” students.

The teacher as student

The good teachers learn as much as they teach during the process.

This was my experience at Syracuse.  I arrived here with a Ph. D. , but I think my years at Syracuse awarded me another Masters and another doctorate.  This was perhaps one of my most memorable professional experiences.

When I left in 1982 to teach at the University of South Florida, I missed my Syracuse students so much that I came back——as a commuter from Tampa.  Indeed, I would board an Eastern Airlines flight each Sunday night, teach my Syracuse class Monday, and return home Monday evening.  Three years of that was enough.  And, of course, when I stopped the commuting, Eastern Airlines went out of business!

To this day, I am in touch with many of myNewhouse students most of whom are devoted media professionals. 

Faculty meetings, the big turn off

The one negative, both at Syracuse University and the University of South Florida:  I came to truly dislike faculty meetings.  I found them to be rather destructive, highly political and not conducive to much that was practical or beneficial to the School, the craft or the students.

It was during these unfriendly gatherings, where it was common to see one faculty member verbally attack another ,that I decided early on that I would never seek an administrative position at a university. Especially detrimental to me was how the Deans or Department Heads were usually despised, and the politics derived from the confrontations led to long, boring, unhappy moments.

Perhaps a Ph. D and an academic title help someone become mean (meaner?), but I think faculty meetings convinced me that getting a room of academics to make decisions can be more difficult (and dangerous) than supervising the recreational activities of a dozen death row inmates.

Hopefully things have changed in academia. I hope so. Or, perhaps they have gotten worse, as recent violent events on campuses may lead us to believe.  At least during my years as a professor, attacks from one faculty member to another were usually nothing more than verbal exchanges.  In that sense, the faculty meetings were a semi-civilized forum in which to discuss a variety of issues, mostly pertaining to faculty governance, curriculum and the future of the School.  Nobody shot anyone here as faculty members went through their victories and failures—-learning from the experience and moving on to the next ones.

The Poynter years

Here I am conducting seminars at The Poynter Institute for Media Studies, circa 1980s (left) and 1990s.

Back in Florida with the family, and while teaching at the University of South Florida, I received a call from Don Baldwin, then director of the Modern Media Institute, to lead some seminars in graphics and design at what was becoming an important training center for practicing journalists (it became The Poynter Institute for Media Studies in 1984). 

Eventually, Bob Haiman, who succeeded Baldwin as president for the Poynter Institute, asked me to create a program emphasizing visual journalism.  It was an offer nobody could refuse.  Plans were advancing quickly to move the Institute’s activities from its original headquarters, a former bank building in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida, with an annex former shoe store which we used as the “graphics lab”.

But, oh, the teaching that took place here, the intense discussions, made me learn what I had suspected, it is not the physical structure, the latest technology available, that determines what goes on in a classroom.  With good ideas, good students, and good teachers, great learning can take place under a coconut tree.

Soon we were into the new and aesthetically magnificent Poynter building, right across from the USF St. Petersburg campus and the Dali Museum, with a view of the bay.  Our program range increased dramatically, and so did the distance that many of the participants travelled from around the globe to share “the Poynter experience”.

For me, it was a time of professional and personal growth, and I learned tremendously from the boss, Bob Haiman, as well as my colleagues Roy Peter Clark, Karen Brown, Don Fry.  The new building was this enormous glass structure with palm trees around it, to accentuate its Florida environs. But to us, it was more like a sandbox, where all ideas were welcome.

I learned here that a good manager (as Bob Haiman was) is one who, when those working under him ask:“ What if…….“
he responds with “Why not?“

At Poynter, almost all of the What ifs became reality:  we developed programs around the use of color (something new and highly experimental for newspapers at the time), MacTracks (to teach designers and artists about the new magical toy in their midst), then graduated to major seminar programs, like type conferences.

Because we looked at our profession as a discipline covering various fields, and because Roy Peter Clark and I were convinced that writing/editing/design were forever intertwined as in a tango embrace, we developed the concept of WED, and led seminars on the topic.  Writing and Roy were never too far from Design and me.  He is a showman, who can play the piano and sing. I had my acting background.  We would go on stage and he would become Perry Mason, the man in the gray suit, pretending to be one of the many editors who thought design was peripheral and nonimportant, then I would come in, the sounds of a Carmen Miranda samba behind me, to make Perry Mason show a little leg.

To the audience of editors and designers, all those Perrys and Carmens filling the Poynter auditorium, this was pure show business. And, of course, some of it was. The English historian, James Anthony Froude, said that good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths theater.

While Roy and I enjoyed the theater part of our joint teaching, we also knew about the preparation part: for every seminar that we taught, we had sat together for long discussions about writing/editing/design.  We knew that WED is the ultimate marriage of words and visual images. We applied it to our own work.  With us, it was a passionate subject.

We went on stage and projected that passion.

That’s what good teachers do: they have thorough knowledge of their subject and they have this intense desire to share it with others.

Roy and I are still doing that.  Perry and Carmen have gotten slightly older, but we still believe in WED, and we know that there is no difference in the way WED made it all come together in 1986 and 1999 and 2010. It is all about the story and how it is conveyed to an audience.

And a day rarely goes by when I don’t find myself——usually before 11 o’clock in the morning——exhorting the benefits of writing/editing/design, whether the story will be told in print, online, or now, of course, through the iPad.

That’s me, teacher.

Yes, Mr. Immigration Officer. I am a teacher. Always was. Always will be.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

TheMarioBlog post #489
 

I often think that many newsrooms are like a zoo, with animals categorized according to species, so that a monkey and a rhinoceros would not coexist, for example.
Editors love compartments, classifications, this goes with that, and this definitely does not go with that.
Enter the bad economy, the times of the digital transition, and with it comes the reduction of space for most newspapers worldwide.
Time to regroup and reorganize and to retrench. 

Perhaps we need to open the cages of the zoo, and let the monkey visit the tiger. Or sports needs to coexist with Economics and Finance.  Who knows, sometimes strange bedfellows, make for great unions?
But, oh what drama for the editor.  Many of the older editors seriously consider going for that buy out offer from the newspaper headquarters. The young ones wonder what their mentor will say when they see what a potpourri the newspaper has become.
Reality , however, dictates that reorganization is in order.  Inventiness is the key.
Today the term “design” redefines itself to include what we do with the organization and restructuring of the product.
A good thing, if you ask me: newspapers with fewer pages and sections are the way to go Monday thru Friday.
Exercises in restructuring are forcing recalcitrant editors to take a good look at what they do, the topics they cover, the length of the material they publish and realize that it can be done more economically.

Tip to the editors: readers are not so much into what header goes with what content. It is more likely to be that readers care about the good content, the great stories, regardless of how you mix them or how you catalog them.  It is also important to create the kind of rhythm where every few pages a “destination” page appears.  Destination pages are those single or half-page treatments where a “surprise” is presented to the readers, as in the case of a “mini interview”, photo gallery, a “focus on” or anything else that breaks the content monotony and affords the reader a little moment of excitement.
Time to get out of the cages and let a few butterflies fly around the newsroom.

Call me teacher

This is part 3 of my occasional series 40 Years/40 Lessons, which I call a “sort of career memoir” capturing highlights and reminiscing about what has been a spectacular journey for me, doing what I love most.  Today’s segment: Teaching is my favorite part of the job.

It is unmistakeable.  When I pass through immigration or customs anywhere in the world and they ask me what I do, almost without thinking, I usually say: I am a teacher.

It is what comes natural.  No, I don’t have an academic appointment at the moment, although I give lectures and special classes at various institutions during the year, including The Poynter Institute for Media Studies, a dear place to me.

Teaching, however, is what I do everyday.  The newsroom is a classroom.  The lunch hour becomes a mini seminar.  The after dinner conversation just before the launch of a project is almost like a final exam review.  Remember those?

I must say that this is one of the most fascinating aspects of my job, whatever description one gives it. There is a Chinese proverb that tells us that “Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself. “

I’d like to think that I have been opening those doors for two generations of the best students anyone can ever hope for.

It all started in 1970 when my son Mario Jr. was barely four months old. It signaled the start of my career.

Miami-Dade Junior College, North Campus, needed someone to replace the legendary Barbara Garfunkel, one of my dearest mentors (you will read all about her in the Mentor segment of 40Years/40Lessons) , my former journalism professor, and the grand dame of journalism education in Miami for almost 50 years.  Miss G was transferring to Miami-Dade’s South Campus, the newly open campus in the area of town closer to her home.

Not that anybody could truly replaced Miss G, as we all affectionately called her.

Introducing Mr. G

I tried, becoming Mr. G to a legion of students who were barely five years younger than me when I first took up the job of adviser to the award-winning Falcon Times—-the student newspaper—-of which I had been editor in 1967.  The job involved teaching two journalism classes in basic reporting.

As adviser to a student newspaper you become parent substitute, shrink, father confessor and mentor. I relished the roles, all of them, and still have the fondest memories of those days, and the satisfaction of seeing so many of my Miami-Dade students who have gone on to extremely successful media careers.  Several still write me, and anytime I see a Dear Mr. G in the salutation, I know this is one of my Falcon Times kids.  Oh, yes, no matter how old they may be, to me they are always “my kids”.

By 1974, when Miss G decided to retire for good, I again followed in her footsteps, moving to the South Campus to advise the also award winning Catalyst, the weekly campus newspaper.

The student newspaper

Nothing can match the experience one gets working in a student publication, and I treasure my experience both as a student editor of The Oracle, at the University of South Florida, the Falcon Times, and, then, of course, returning as the adviser.

My years as teacher/adviser taught me much.  There is hardly any difference between the river of human emotions that runs thru a student newsroom and what I discovered later in professional environments.  You have the hard workers who are never satisfied with what they do and aim for more; you have the super talented who lack the drive to achieve (few of them usually go anywhere); you have the less talented who set goals and follow them (they win Oscars and Pulitzers and live in the mansion of stability), and you have the insecure, the competitive and the one who should have never entered the room but somehow managed to pass thru the screening.

The main difference I found between a student newsroom and a professional one: the students know they are there to learn and are not afraid to let you guide them by the hand; some professionals tend to see asking for help as a mark of incompetence or lack of knowledge.

I have learned that professionals who don’t let go of the “student” within them will have a more successful career, always learning, forever adding new ways of doing things they have done for a long time. Sort of like the adults not totally abandoning the child in them.

Along comes the opportunity of a lifetime

In 1976, I had a call from my good friend C. Marshall Matlock, of Syracuse University, asking me if I wanted to apply for a position to teach graphic arts at the S. I. Newhouse School of Public Communications.

The icon of newspaper design, Professor Edmund Arnold, was about to retire (not that he did so completely, as he stayed with academics at Virginia Commonwealth University).

Am I supposed to replace legends?, I asked myself.

On the other side of the equation was the idea of leaving warm Florida, with its palm trees swaying outside my Miami-Dade South office, Cuban Miami, our family.  Maria had already lived in Columbus, Ohio, as a teenager and knew all about winters. I didn’t, and she was not emphatic enough in her arguments about snow, ice and driving in the mess.

With four small children in tow (just picture what the budget was—-in a professor’s salary—- to get all of them attired with hats, coats, mittens and snow boots), we decided to move to upstate New York.

Now, I would be teaching exclusively visual journalism——typography, newspaper and magazine design——and I loved the Newhouse School from the first day I stepped into the modern structure with spectacular views of the rest of the Syracuse University campus.  High on a hill, the Newhouse School has an ample terrace that allows for the larger panorama of the city as well.  The communications program, among the best in the world, also offers media students the ultimate panorama of our industry, with almost a course for every area of specialization.

I felt the high as well.  At 29, with a fresh Ph. D from the University of Miami, my youngest of four children (Elena) barely 1 year old, Maria and I quickly adapted to life in North Syracuse, with friendly neighbors, a huge backyard and the seasonal rituals of apple picking in the fall, spring planting, the glorious welcoming of warm summer days, and, of course, snow snow and more snow.

What is a tropical bird like me doing here, I asked myself many February mornings as I shoveled piles of snow outside my garage door so that I could get the car out and drive to the hill, to teach my early morning Introduction to Graphic Arts class, which the catalog described as GRA 217, a required course for all communications majors.  The class was taught in a cozy auditorium to about 120 students.

It was a long stretch to do so on snowy days, but, alas, young professors have the energy to transmit to sleepy students.  We discussed typography, created book covers, moved from magazines to newspapers to television graphics.  I would take home carloads of projects to grade, dividing them 20 at a time, to give each project its proper consideration.

The level of the Syracuse University students elevated me as well.  The students were prepared, eager to learn, many of them gifted and always demanding.  To teach here, one had to be alert, and to be 10 steps ahead of these disciplined and motivated students. A special treat: teaching all those talented photographers from the military, who spent a year at Newhouse perfecting their skills.  I saw life through the lenses of these men and women, who also offered a balance to the young professor and a sharp contrast to the rest of the “regular” students.

The teacher as student

The good teachers learn as much as they teach during the process.

This was my experience at Syracuse.  I arrived here with a Ph. D. , but I think my years at Syracuse awarded me another Masters and another doctorate.  This was perhaps one of my most memorable professional experiences.

When I left in 1982 to teach at the University of South Florida, I missed my Syracuse students so much that I came back——as a commuter from Tampa.  Indeed, I would board an Eastern Airlines flight each Sunday night, teach my Syracuse class Monday, and return home Monday evening.  Three years of that was enough.  And, of course, when I stopped the commuting, Eastern Airlines went out of business!

To this day, I am in touch with many of myNewhouse students most of whom are devoted media professionals. 

Faculty meetings, the big turn off

The one negative, both at Syracuse University and the University of South Florida:  I came to truly dislike faculty meetings.  I found them to be rather destructive, highly political and not conducive to much that was practical or beneficial to the School, the craft or the students.

It was during these unfriendly gatherings, where it was common to see one faculty member verbally attack another ,that I decided early on that I would never seek an administrative position at a university. Especially detrimental to me was how the Deans or Department Heads were usually despised, and the politics derived from the confrontations led to long, boring, unhappy moments.

Perhaps a Ph. D and an academic title help someone become mean (meaner?), but I think faculty meetings convinced me that getting a room of academics to make decisions can be more difficult (and dangerous) than supervising the recreational activities of a dozen death row inmates.

Hopefully things have changed in academia. I hope so. Or, perhaps they have gotten worse, as recent violent events on campuses may lead us to believe.  At least during my years as a professor, attacks from one faculty member to another were usually nothing more than verbal exchanges.  In that sense, the faculty meetings were a semi-civilized forum in which to discuss a variety of issues, mostly pertaining to faculty governance, curriculum and the future of the School.  Nobody shot anyone here as faculty members went through their victories and failures—-learning from the experience and moving on to the next ones.

The Poynter years

Here I am conducting seminars at The Poynter Institute for Media Studies, circa 1980s (left) and 1990s.

Back in Florida with the family, and while teaching at the University of South Florida, I received a call from Don Baldwin, then director of the Modern Media Institute, to lead some seminars in graphics and design at what was becoming an important training center for practicing journalists (it became The Poynter Institute for Media Studies in 1984). 

Eventually, Bob Haiman, who succeeded Baldwin as president for the Poynter Institute, asked me to create a program emphasizing visual journalism.  It was an offer nobody could refuse.  Plans were advancing quickly to move the Institute’s activities from its original headquarters, a former bank building in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida, with an annex former shoe store which we used as the “graphics lab”.

But, oh, the teaching that took place here, the intense discussions, made me learn what I had suspected, it is not the physical structure, the latest technology available, that determines what goes on in a classroom.  With good ideas, good students, and good teachers, great learning can take place under a coconut tree.

Soon we were into the new and aesthetically magnificent Poynter building, right across from the USF St. Petersburg campus and the Dali Museum, with a view of the bay.  Our program range increased dramatically, and so did the distance that many of the participants travelled from around the globe to share “the Poynter experience”.

For me, it was a time of professional and personal growth, and I learned tremendously from the boss, Bob Haiman, as well as my colleagues Roy Peter Clark, Karen Brown, Don Fry.  The new building was this enormous glass structure with palm trees around it, to accentuate its Florida environs. But to us, it was more like a sandbox, where all ideas were welcome.

I learned here that a good manager (as Bob Haiman was) is one who, when those working under him ask:“ What if…….“
he responds with “Why not?“

At Poynter, almost all of the What ifs became reality:  we developed programs around the use of color (something new and highly experimental for newspapers at the time), MacTracks (to teach designers and artists about the new magical toy in their midst), then graduated to major seminar programs, like type conferences.

Because we looked at our profession as a discipline covering various fields, and because Roy Peter Clark and I were convinced that writing/editing/design were forever intertwined as in a tango embrace, we developed the concept of WED, and led seminars on the topic.  Writing and Roy were never too far from Design and me.  He is a showman, who can play the piano and sing. I had my acting background.  We would go on stage and he would become Perry Mason, the man in the gray suit, pretending to be one of the many editors who thought design was peripheral and nonimportant, then I would come in, the sounds of a Carmen Miranda samba behind me, to make Perry Mason show a little leg.

To the audience of editors and designers, all those Perrys and Carmens filling the Poynter auditorium, this was pure show business. And, of course, some of it was. The English historian, James Anthony Froude, said that good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths theater.

While Roy and I enjoyed the theater part of our joint teaching, we also knew about the preparation part: for every seminar that we taught, we had sat together for long discussions about writing/editing/design.  We knew that WED is the ultimate marriage of words and visual images. We applied it to our own work.  With us, it was a passionate subject.

We went on stage and projected that passion.

That’s what good teachers do: they have thorough knowledge of their subject and they have this intense desire to share it with others.

Roy and I are still doing that.  Perry and Carmen have gotten slightly older, but we still believe in WED, and we know that there is no difference in the way WED made it all come together in 1986 and 1999 and 2010. It is all about the story and how it is conveyed to an audience.

And a day rarely goes by when I don’t find myself——usually before 11 o’clock in the morning——exhorting the benefits of writing/editing/design, whether the story will be told in print, online, or now, of course, through the iPad.

That’s me, teacher.

Yes, Mr. Immigration Officer. I am a teacher. Always was. Always will be.

1.Mirrors.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_1—a_look_in_the_mirror

2.Refugee.
http://www.garciamedia.com/blog/articles/40_years_40_lessons_2—refugee

TheMarioBlog post #488