Charles Apple

Sorry I haven’t blogged about the past couple of days. It’s all been a bit of a blur.

First, a couple of photos from Tuesday. I woke up that day to a major rainstorm. But by the time the sun had come out, the cold, steady winds had chased away the rain:

I returned to my room Tuesday evening to find the sun attempting to peek out from behind the huge — but not longer threatening — clouds:

And, a few moments later, the sun succeeded — just in time, before it set for the day:

I spent the last two evenings feverishly working on my slide shows. With the help of my friends all over the U.S., I pulled together a bunch of examples of terrific advertising and marketing with which to augment my usual shows — which normally feature editorial samples, naturally.

I still showed a bunch of news examples in order to make my larger points. But I was very happy to have really good ads to show them, too.

By the way, if you ever have a chance to look over the ad design portfolio of Ryan Huddle of the Advocate in Victoria, Texas, I advise you to do so. That guy is phenomenal. Thanks so much, Ryan, for sending me so many incredible ads. You and your work were the highlight of the day on Wednesday.

We spent Monday getting to know each other and we critiqued each others’ work. Tuesday, I spoke about simplifying ads, using dominant elements for focus and using color as a tool, rather and as a decorative element.

Wednesday, we focused on concepts: Cool ads, terrific ideas and how to make them happen.

Here, I make a point about proactivity using my gigantic 15-year-old battle ship graphic:

Rolene is the quiet one of the bunch. She works in the DTP department, which stands for Desktop Publishing. She’s full of creative ideas but often ends up in a production-type environment. Naturally, we’d like to open up her job so she can use her ideas a little more.

She does wonderful work. I ended up bringing two of her samples over into my slideshow lecture on Tuesday.

Barry is almost a stereotypical surfer dude. He’s athletic, laid-back, philosophical, spiritual… and, yeah, he gets text messages from his buddies when the surf is up.

He excels in corporate identity-type assignments. Meaning he’ll be running a high-end identity design firm one day while the rest of us are struggling with editorial design.

Jean — pronounced the French way — is also very quiet but very funny. He takes on the biggest, most complex assignments. If he were a news artist, he’d be the big megagraphics gun.

On day one, when we were looking at individual work, I pegged him as an expert at handling color. He seems to have a gift for sophisticated colors.

Karmien is the leader of the promotional team. Very smart, very sharp and eager to keep everything positive and informative. She’s been very flexible, kind and easy to work with this week.

Her work has a certain snap; a certain polish. I think the paper is very lucky to have a designer of her caliber working here.

She also impressed me on Monday by telling me she wanted some coaching with her leadership and personal skills. We’ll be making time for that today and Friday.

Dominic is the joker of the bunch. Sharp and witty and a very, very fast thinker. You know how much I love fast thinkers. Here, instead of a candid shot, Dominic insists upon a portrait pose:

A gifted illustrator and designer, he’s capable of doing so much more than he’s currently being called upon to do. I’m hoping our Wednesday session about creativity and proactivity will help him find a new role for himself and his brain.

So I’m dealing with a three-person team and two more people nominated for training from a larger team. But, just like with the editorial people, everyone is so friendly and easygoing that the atmosphere in the room is that of a cohesive team already.

I’m left with a sense of greatness among these folks. Really, I’m honored to have a week of their time. I hope I’m bringing a useful message and some inspiration to them.

We’re in the same room where I’ve taught the past two-and-a-half weeks. The only thing we changed are the attendees and some of the work stations. We also keep the blinds closed because a) the glare of the light on the computer monitors, and b) if not, I’d spend the entire day just staring out the window. Just look at that beautiful water on Wednesday afternoon:

It’s chilly and windy outside, the remnants of the big rain and wind storm that began to roll through on Sunday — the one that caused all the huge waves during my trip to Robben Island.

Apparently, our boat wasn’t the only one affected. I picked up the paper Wednesday to find this:

“Threatening disaster,” that hedline reads. The ship, pushed against the shallows of Table Bay by wave action, is carrying 30,000 tons of coal and other fuel. It’s taking on water but bottomed out, mostly. The continued pounding is threatening to break the ship apart.

And the coolest thing? You can actually see this thing from the 13th floor, where we’re working. There it is, near the far shore:

I was tied up Sunday afternoon and Monday and Tuesday evenings, feverishly preparing the next day’s slideshow lectures. Wednesday evening, however — with today’s main topic being Scrounging, a topic for which I have existing slideshow materials — I took a few hours off to run out to the waterfront for a little variety in my food.

Before I left, though, I ran downstairs to the Westin Grand bar/restaurant to snap a photo of this cool painting:

That’s called “Six Cape Town Views,” painted in 2003 by Nicolaas Maritz. That’s enamel paint on canvas.

I just love the stylized way Maritz handles the ship exhausts, the reflection of light on the water and the wispy “tablecloth” cloud atop Table Mountain.

For much of the past couple of weeks, part of this art has been hidden by a giant, wall-mounted LCD television. Now that the TV is gone, I wanted to show you the painting I stare at every night at dinner.

I was a little shocked when I swung by the hotel gift shop to buy myself a Diet Coke — which they call “Coke Light.” I’ve been buying them, sometimes two at a time, since I arrived here in the Westin Grand.

But apparently, they’re completely out now. I bought every single last one. They won’t be getting in another shipment until Saturday, after I’ve departed for home.

I’m having Coca-Cola withdrawals. If I can’t find a source nearby for Diet Coke, I may be forced to teach the world to sing. Or something.

One quick van shuttle ride later found me at the waterfront, looking back over at Table Mountain itself. I’d seen it shrouded in clouds and in crystal-clear air. But Wednesday evening was the first time I had personally witnessed the meteorological phenomenon known as the “tablecloth”:

Cool air is pushed against the mountain and slips upward. At about the same altitude as the top of the mountain, the moisture in the air condenses, forming a thin, wispy cloud the appears to just float there.

It’s a tablecloth for the flat table of Table Mountain.

Meanwhile Signal Hill — which I’ve been shooting from my room all week — and Lion’s Head, peeking out from behind — appear nice and calm after the clouds, wind and rain of the past couple of days:

I visited my favorite waterfront restaurant, Spur, once again. And I made a quick dash through the waterfront mall, wondering what I should take home to Sharon. I’ve picked up items for my daughter, Elizabeth, but Sharon still hasn’t given me any suggestions. “Just bring me your consulting paycheck,” she says. “That’ll be good enough for me.”

I have two evenings left, perhaps one of which I can spend over at the waterfront. Do you have any suggestions on what I should buy Sharon? Feel free to post a comment here or send me an e-mail.

A flashing sign at the bandshell shows how eager the folks of South Africa are to play host to the world’s soccer fans next year:

As always, a variety of jazz musicians, mimes and a cappella Iscathamiya singers do their thing along the waterfront, hoping for spare change or, in the case of these guys, a sale of a CD or two:

I listened for a few moments and was then hit up for a sale. The cost: 100 Rand, or about twelve bucks.

I love supporting the local folks when I can. I listened to the CD Wednesday night. Lovely stuff.

Chris Olds, if you’re out there, this one’s for you:

Chris is a senior editor for Beckett Media in Dallas. In addition to editing sports card collecting magazines — including the flagship publication Beckett Baseball Monthly — Chris helped out with this special Michael Jackson collectibles guide/tribute. I was pleased to find one in a bookstore, here at the Cape Town waterfront.

And, as promised, I found a pharmacy at the waterfront that sells the adapter plugs to tourists for R70 each. That’s about $8.74, only two-thirds of what I paid for mine at Dulles airport in Washington, D.C.

If you’re coming to see World Cup games next year, don’t spend $12 or $20 or $30 for an adapter. Buy one here.

Or maybe I should buy a dozen or so of them and send them out as stocking stuffers to my soccer-crazy friends.

I got back to my hotel at a decent time and called Sharon and Elizabeth via iChat. They told me about all the rain they’ve received back home and about the start of school — Elizabeth began 11th grade on Tuesday.

I, on the other hand, worked on finishing off the bottle of wine the hotel gave me over the weekend. The housekeeping folks ran off with my wine glass Wedneday, so I was forced to drink my wine from a bathroom glass.

Perhaps I should have called down to room service to request a styrofoam cup and a straw.

Today is Thursday. I leave here Saturday morning. It seems like I’ve been here for weeks. But then again, I have been here for weeks.

Now that the storm has passed through completely, we’re back to the crystal-clear air I saw here the first few days of my stay, back in late August. Here’s the view to the right, out my hotel window around 7 a.m., showing the harbor and the far side of Table Bay in the distance:

Looking straight out my window, here’s the World Cup stadium, under construction 24 hours a day, in hopes of completing work by the time the cup competition begins:

And, looking left out the window of my 11th-floor room at the Westin Grand, is Signal Hill, glowing green with spring growth and circled with fresh, blue spring air:

This is a gorgeous place. I’m going to miss it very much after I leave.

Or will I? I was approached Wednesday with another proposition for yet more work here. We’ll see if we can reach an agreement over the next couple of days. Possibly I’ll return soon and stay for a few more weeks.

Naturally, I’d be delighted. Not only are the folks here warm and friendly, not only is the city beautiful and lively, but I feel like I’ve been able to make a huge difference in this paper and in its visual journalists and advertising creative folks.

I miss leading my own staff. But teaching talented, eager young people who are as hungry for improvement as these folks is a real rush. And a real privilege.

Once again, I’m left with the feeling that I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

—
EXPEDITION TO SOUTH AFRICA

You’re reading chapter 22 of my journey to Cape Town, South Africa. Previous installments:

• CHAPTER 1: Preparing for the journey.
  
• CHAPTER 2: I made it as far as the Dulles airport bar
• CHAPTER 3: Getting really bored sitting at Dulles
• CHAPTER 4: Safe and sound in Cape Town
• CHAPTER 5: Day one in Cape Town
  
• CHAPTER 6: Day two; No effects at all from jet lag
• CHAPTER 7: A tour of the Westin Grand
• CHAPTER 8: Dealing with little things like money and electricity
• CHAPTER 9: Thursday night on the Cape Town waterfront
• CHAPTER 10: Ending the work week on a high note
• CHAPTER 11: A Saturday trip to the Cape of Good Hope
• CHAPTER 12: A Sunday visit to Cape Town’s Table Mountain
• CHAPTER 13: The blustery ‘Cape Doctor’ winds arrive
• CHAPTER 14: Making some real progress in our class work
• CHAPTER 15: Giant infographics and a night on the town
• CHAPTER 16: Our last day of infographics class in Cape Town
  
• CHAPTER 17: Looking forward to a weekend of sightseeing
• CHAPTER 18: An interesting Saturday bus tour of Cape Town
• CHAPTER 19: Preparing for a week of advertising classes
• CHAPTER 20: A beautiful sunset over Signal Hill
  
• CHAPTER 21: A Sunday morning visit to Robben Island prison

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 10th, 2009 at 1:25 am and is filed under Charles Apple, Travelogue, Trip to South Africa, Visual ethics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.