David+Martin: The third story
For a long time, I misjudged David+Martin, perhaps one of Germany's most exciting creative agencies. Fortunately, because that was the only way I could understand what was actually going on there.
The first story written about David+Martin—the first narrative that spread—was that of two guys who, for a handful of euros and a little creative leeway, could bring to life just about anything a client in the advertising world could desire. That story has come to an end.
The second story written about David+Martin—the second narrative that spread—was that of two guys who, at some point, were able to charge more than a handful of euros for their expertise, but in return had more than both hands full to do. They worked day and night, hired other (positive!) advertising fanatics… and knew how to celebrate: every pitch win, every success, and sometimes, it seems, just the fact that it was Tuesday. This story, too, has come to an end.
«At heart, we're still a creative agency. And we'll always be one.»
It’s now time for the third story, the third narrative—not one neatly laid out on these pages, because even that would imply a sense of finality, and David+Martin is far from that. No, what follows is merely a snapshot, a fragment of a story unfolding right now. One of Germany’s perhaps most exciting creative agencies is undergoing a growth spurt and what is likely its biggest transformation to date—it wants to, but at the same time must remain true to itself. Can that work?
«… actually a pretty serious business»
Let’s lay our cards on the table: At the beginning of this year, I really wanted to write a blend of the first and second stories—to retell them, just as a few journalists before me had done. The narrative’s appeal was just too strong (utter nonconformity, a bar at the heart of a labyrinthine old agency building, a healthy dose of eccentricity…), and it seemed too tempting to meet someone who kept the «golden age» of our industry alive. I imagined them as veritable «Munich Mad Men»—without suits, perhaps, but with a coolness and self-confidence every bit as impressive as Don Draper’s. Armed with these preconceptions, I drove to the Bavarian capital, met the agency’s namesakes, David Stephan and Martin Eggert, saw Mark Niedzballa—the former CEO of The Game, who was still operating «undercover» at the time—standing at a whiteboard, and (unintentionally) crashed a brainstorming session. And I traveled on to Bonn, feeling completely inspired, for my next appointment.
The train ride took four and a half hours, during which time I typed up an article on my MacBook, which I—still feeling quite euphoric—immediately sent to Munich that same evening. Martin Eggert’s response to my draft was clear. I can’t recall all of his passages exactly today (thanks to a formatted email inbox), but one sentence has stuck with me: «What’s often overlooked is that this is actually a damn serious business here.» Point taken. I asked if I could come back—to write about what actually goes on at David+Martin. I got that second chance.
Young, wild? Yeah… but!
When we meet again at the end of May—David, Martin, and I—there’s a thunderstorm brewing. We’ve swapped the bar-office where we sat last time for a new location and are now touring the second office, decorated in rich wood tones, near Sendlinger Tor. It’s a prestigious branch office for meetings with clients, but also a place where additional employees can work—and where the founders can retreat to reflect. All of this has both symbolic and practical significance.
David+Martin’s portfolio includes an increasing number of «traditional» clients (insurance, beauty, and, most recently, ING Germany, one of the top financial institutions in Germany); more and more talent is needed to fill the ranks and manage mega-accounts (the relatively new Seat and Cupra account alone will require more than 30 full-time positions); more and more often, the founders must learn to take a step back—and delegate. Letting others take the lead today in order to make strategic decisions for tomorrow.
«You know,» David Stephan begins, «that reputation we had… the one you mentioned in your first article… it got a little too far ahead of us, for our liking.» He recalls that there was a phase when David+Martin was already representing brands of (inter)national renown; however, new inquiries were coming primarily from companies that wanted to see «something cool and crazy.» The agency’s teams were expected to «audition»—to «just be radically different and crazy.» Did the potential clients also want to know what they thought, what principles they followed, and what insights their ideas were based on? «Less often than you might think,» adds Martin Eggert. I can imagine how frustrating that must be. «Suffering from success» is one might scoff, but then you haven’t experienced—and, above all, haven’t understood—what they mean.
Creative at Heart
After all, what the two of them describe is certainly partly related to the «Party Hard» myths that have surrounded the agency, but it is undoubtedly also a side effect of consistently living out creativity: When Sir John Hegarty tells me about his first BBH pitches—about the black sheep at Levi’s and naked men in laundromats—he also talks about the enormous difference between the final result and the process of achieving it. Clients see the result—and conclude that a few eccentric characters are conjuring up brilliant ideas out of thin air while sipping one drink after another in the dim light. «Hard work is overshadowed by the perception of creative excellence,» Sir John is convinced, «and although your ideas help you grow at the beginning, they can later hinder your growth.» After all, the really big clients no longer come just for good ideas—they need trust, reliability, and compliance. Without creativity drying up.
And because David+Martin wants to win these clients (the fact that they’re counting on scaling up is evident from the multi-stage win of the previously mentioned Seat and Cupra account—their largest to date), they need to move beyond the image to which they’ve been reduced for some time—even in the media. «Don’t get me wrong,‘ says David Stephan, »we’re still a creative agency, and we’ll stay that way.« But at the same time, they’re taking essential steps that lead into the future.
Partnerships and Young Talent
To that end, they’re turning to new partners, such as the previously mentioned former The Game CEO Mark Niedzballa. He graces our Gewitter Lounge with his presence for a quick chat, coming across as a calming influence next to the effervescent strategist Eggert, who, according to colleagues, «easily makes 20 30 people a day,» because he prefers that to constant email back-and-forth. Niedzballa says many wise things, but above all, he emphasizes the importance of «leveraged mandates»: «If you win over car manufacturer X and perform excellently, manufacturer Y will invite you.» It’s similar in the insurance sector and the financial world: clients are seen not only as a valued asset «in and of themselves,» but also as «stepping stones.» In the Operations division, Niedzballa will be responsible for ensuring that the David+Martin machine is well-oiled as soon as it’s time to pull the levers.
Even long-time employees are taking on more responsibility: Thuy Hällmayer, a team member from the very beginning and an authorized signatory for the past two years, now oversees human resources, the offices, and infrastructure at the group level. David, Martin, Mark, and Thuy—this setup is designed to keep the company on the path that made David+Martin great. Even the promised freedom—which attracts some of the best young talent in Germany—is structured rather than chaotic. «When you join us,» says Martin Eggert, «we expect a lot from you. We set goals. And then you find your own way to achieve them.» Are he and his co-founder good bosses? «If you can handle the fact that we both always tell the truth—yes!» The low employee turnover rate seems to confirm this.
Failed again?
As we step out together into the Munich evening—the lightning and thunder have stopped, and it’s just drizzling lightly—a thought occurs to me: I probably won’t be able to describe this agency adequately again. The blend of a spirit of optimism and structure, «laissez-faire» and discipline, creativity and hard work—crowned by founders who still love what they do—I’d need to observe that for longer. But: It’s probably irrelevant whether anyone captures more than a snapshot of the «third story.» We’ll probably all be watching it unfold.
