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It's all Work and display for entrepreneur Harris |  |
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Bob Rayner (804) 649-6073 brayner@timesdispatch.com February 6, 2005 Try spending an hour with Cabell Harris. It's exhausting, exhilarating, hilarious and a little depressing. This guy — unrelenting entrepreneur, nationally respected creative thinker in advertising circles, blunt industry philosopher, occasionally difficult collaborator, according to some who've been there — is a volcano of ideas. Normal humans, or at least this one, can't help feeling a little too conventional when faced with the eruptions of innovation splashed around the walls, tables and computer screens in his office. "I have over a hundred concepts I want to take to market," Harris said during a recent conversation on the first floor of his Monument Avenue home, which does double duty as headquarters for his latest business ventures — a confounding stew of advertising projects, clever designs and sophisticated brands in search of a product. Harris, a usually affable mad scientist of marketing who can't seem to sit still for long, has developed deeply original, clearly defined branding strategies for a beer and a line of clothing. What he hasn't found is companies to brew the beer or manufacture the clothes. But he's working on it. Work, of course, is the enduring concept that defines the efforts of Cabell Harris. Work is his brand, literally and legally. In 1994, after laboring in creative departments at some of the country's top advertising agencies, including The Martin Agency in Richmond, Harris started his own business. He called it Work Inc. and promoted it as "the biggest little ad agency in the world." The signature look of his projects might best be described a blue-collar chic. "We've been a cheerleader for the world's workforce." Harris sees his approach as "a salute to the work ethic." Things haven't always worked out. He caused a big buzz in the local ad industry in 2001 when Work merged with Just Partners, a local ad firm headed by Don Just, another accomplished Martin Agency alum. Ultimately, that deal just didn't jell. Harris is reluctant to discuss the details, other than to say the timing was bad. "With the weak economy, 9/11, the dot-com bust, in some ways the bottom fell out," Harris said. A year ago, he left the agency, which had adopted the Work moniker. Harris got the name back on Jan. 1. "I've been in hiding for a year," he said. "I haven't been able to talk about Work." His old agency reorganized, and Just stepped out of the picture. It's called Watson now. Harris, who is 46, said he wishes them well. "I still have a huge amount of respect for Don Just," he added. "We still get along." These days, both men are teaching at the Adcenter, Virginia Commonwealth University's graduate school in Shockoe Slip. But Harris is putting much of his energy into reviving Work -- basically a one-man shop that's plugged into lots of for-hire creative talent here and around the country. Work has already made a television commercial for Virginia Corps, the state's bid to encourage volunteerism. And it filmed a spot for itself -- cheerleaders figure prominently -- which Harris plans to place on local cable channels. He believes ad agencies need to advertise, too. The agency also finished projects for a couple of prestigious ad competitions. A big part of Work's load is projects for other agencies. But Harris wants to work with some businesses directly. "We're looking for a few good clients." Then there's the idea factory, which Harris dubbed Work Labs. Space — and sanity — prevent listing all the prospective products. But one product feels like a winner and is already available at a few local retailers, including Peter Blair on Grove Avenue: conversation cards, stylishly clad, that folks can pass out on dates, at cocktail parties, business meetings or anywhere else they're feeling shy, oppressed or tongue-tied. "I'm a social misfit," Harris said. "I'm not at ease with the usual chit-chat." So he invented the "Speechless" cards. An unscientific market test with some tough nuts, including editors, reporters and my wife, yielded a unanimous opinion. These things are very, very funny. Several of my guinea pigs asked, "Can I have those when you're done with them?" I handed them a card: "Over my dead body." A couple more examples? In a business meeting: "You didn't brush your teeth today, did you?" On a date: "Do you have any tattoos?" At a cocktail party: "Run." Jokes are only part of the Harris repertoire. "Here's how I see my job: I'm either a problem solver or I'm looking for opportunities," he said. "I want to be able to hold my head high and have people say you did a good job. Of course, I want to be paid handsomely." Then he flashed a sideways grin, jumped up from his chair and headed to the back of the office, where the work gets done. |