"It's bad at the beginning. I always try to stay calm and block out the pain. After a minute, it slowly gets better. And then comes the moment when I know: Now I have to get out, otherwise I won't be able to move properly all day."
This is not how Peter Brönnimann describes his work at Aemtlerstrasse, but his weekly swim in Lake Zurich. Whether it's a bright Saturday morning in June, a rainy autumn day or a snowy winter weekend: Brönnimann ventures into the water. Without a protective suit, even if the lake is just a few degrees. Only on his hands does he wear neoprene gloves in winter, so that his hands are immediately functional again after swimming.
In winter, it's already very hard and not really casual, admits Brönnimann. "Many people think you get used to it. I doubt that. It seems extremely cold to me every time. It becomes casual in March or April, when it gets a little warmer, 9 degrees and above. Funnily enough, that's when you feel relatively comfortable."
Why does Brönnimann nevertheless perform the ritual all year round? Does the creative artist like to test his physical limits? Does he chase from one spectacle to the next? Not at all, says the ECD. He pauses and considers before answering, "It's a special nature experience, totally calm and pricelessly beautiful, very simple and yet spectacular - and always different: one time the sun is shining, the lake is smooth, the next time there are huge waves, it's raining, it's windy. Other times it's snowing."
Brönnimann has a lot to gain from the everyday, the simple. For him, the morning train ride to Zurich, which others dismiss as an annoying commute, is one of the best parts of the day. "It doesn't feel like riding the train at all. It's more like sitting in an armchair reading the newspaper." The creative likes having people around him and listening to the conversations. If an exciting scene is taking place next to him, he plugs in his headphones - as camouflage - and leans back. On the train, he has already heard the most absurd dialogs. He has witnessed a relationship being ended on the phone, a personnel manager conducting a job interview, or two punks talking about the proper use of dishwashers. Scenes, if you saw them in a movie, you would think the plot was contrived or sought after. "Rail travel is often cinema live," ECD says.
When it comes to his own life, Brönnimann is more reserved with words of enthusiasm. Here, the creative director and co-founder of Spillmann Felser Leo Burnett (SFLB) seems to apply a different standard. If you ask him what his everyday life is like, he says he has a frighteningly unspectacular life - and that's just fine.
But Brönnimann also talks about Brad Pitt leading an unspectacular existence. "Sometimes I almost feel a little sorry for him," he says. "I think he has a boring life - at least when he's filming." Just as Brönnimann thinks the glorification of acting is wrong, he thinks the advertising world, which likes to be associated with glamour, is anything but glamorous. Filming, for example, rather reminds him of the military. "Getting up early, standing around a lot and waiting."
Immersion in different worlds
What Brönnimann particularly appreciates about his work is the variety. Apart from a few fixed points - getting up at half past six, having breakfast with the family and taking the S-Bahn to Zurich - no two days are the same. Sometimes he's on the road and immerses himself in another world during a shoot. For example, with weather forecaster Martin Horat. On another day, he first discusses a campaign with a CEO of a corporation and then assesses work with his team in the afternoon. At other times, Brönnimann takes time to be creative himself. Then he's working on a concept with Johannes Raggio, with whom he's been sharing the creative reins for the past few months, or sitting alone in front of a white sheet of paper.
When Brönnimann recounts how his career as a copywriter went, he stacks the deck: he didn't study enough at high school, barely made it through the Matura, and ended up studying "nothing really" (journalism). After that, he did a program on local radio that no one wanted to listen to, later wrote bad texts for the Berner Zeitung, and finally signed on with Martin Suter. "It's still a mystery to me today why Suter took me on then. I had nothing really good to show for it."
Brönnimann, on the other hand, really goes into raptures when it comes to SFLB's advertising output. The creative work earns the agency top positions in the rankings every year. However, it is at least as important to the creative that the advertising resonates with the addressees. "I think popular advertising is what sets SFLB apart. Work that most people are happy to look at a second time. Or a third time ..." For example, the simple but ingenious turnaround phrases for Swiss Life. Or the ongoing campaign for Switzerland Tourism, in which the protagonists work for the well-being of tourists with Swiss thoroughness, yet with a lot of charm and a pinch of humor. Currently, in the current winter film, Sebi and Paul are busy putting away all the clocks so that guests can enjoy their vacations in complete relaxation. The cuckoo clock is nailed shut, the hands of the church clock are collected and the rooster is banned from crowing.
Brönnimann sees advertising Switzerland as a very special obligation. "You are, so to speak, the advertising foreign minister, and you polish Switzerland's image with your work." But Brönnimann would also make a good ambassador himself. "I love spending vacations in Switzerland." Snowshoeing or skiing in winter, damming streams in summer. There couldn't be a better vacation. After all, he says, taking the train to the Alps is more comfortable than being crammed between two rows of seats on an airplane to visit the in-laws in Australia. Even more so with a height of 1.94 meters.
But the creative would rather let his work speak for itself than stand up as an advertising medium himself. He also finds it very pleasant that the customers and not the advertisers are at the center of advertising. "If an advertising spot - like a newspaper article - began with who was responsible for it, that would be totally comical," says Brönnimann. "So we advertisers are relatively modest."
For once, Brönnimann is nevertheless in the spotlight this year as Advertiser of the Year. What does the title mean to him? "I'm proud and very flattered. It is an honor for my work," says the ECD and adds immediately, "but first and foremost the title is a great honor for all those who work at SFLB and are committed. It's called Advertiser of the Year, to be sure. But everyone in the industry knows that it takes good people to do good work in all places."
At SFLB, Brönnimann appreciates the mix of down-to-earth and international flair at the Leo Burnett agency. "And we're lucky enough to work for great Swiss brands and for clients who believe in the power of good ideas." After all, having the best ideas is of no use if they are not recognized on the client side. "We can consider ourselves very lucky in this respect."
Brönnimann is not at all afraid that he will run out of ideas. "Many people have the feeling that creative people have fewer ideas as they get older. I don't believe that." On the other hand, you do become more efficient with time. "My experience is that you know more quickly whether you should pursue an idea if it runs through your brain." In addition, there is a touch of composure that Brönnimann did not yet know as a junior advertiser. In the past, when he saw an interesting scene at the movies, he would immediately study whether he could use that for an ad. Today, he has moments when he leaves advertising far behind. "I have made the experience that I can create best when I create".
Isabel Imper
Photos: Isabel Imper
PDF version of the article from the current print edition of Werbewoche.
