Yesterday I promised you a sneak peek at whatever stage one of our (many) projects currently stands. This is the one, you will recall, where I took a page, a very successful page mind you, from the genius behind Fight Club. But before we do that, let me roll the tapes back from my conversation with the photographer as we drove to the shoot site. It might help if I added at this point that the photog in question is my neighbor, client, friend and teammate. She is a professional artist, triathlete, mother and scholar. I respect her opinions as much as I do her cooking, after all I can count on one finger the people who regularly bring fresh baked enchiladas to my door.
We are driving in the rain talking about the shoot, my conceptual vision and her mastery of the tools necessary to accomplish it. Foreshortening, focus and Photoshop for conversational starters. She brings up the issue of copyright. Copyright, as in infringement? I ask semi-dumbfounded. Well, we are using someones else’s idea, one you just spent ten minutes discussing the artistry and brilliance of.
This is an area every artist, musician, photographer, videographer, author, painter, filmmaker, editor, journalist, athlete and poet has, or should have, already grappled with. Here is my take, my roll of the dice, I continue as I brake for a small grey mutt crossing the road; one cannot copyright an idea, up to and including intellectual property, because the necessary elements to change, however small, one element of that idea, are limitless. If you change a part, you change the whole. Simply because I compose, record and attempt to sell a song that sounds just like The Beatles, does not necessarily make it plagiarism. It makes it flattery. The purest form. Copy the success of those that have gone before. Agree or not it is what we all do. I play four chord rock ’n roll progressions in 4/4 time (with a major chorus) because that is what works. I film cyclists because I appreciate time, space, motion, energy, the color of it. I use these words because they somehow fit together to form sentences with which I hope to communicate, to tell a story. If I dedicated my entire day to creating something unique, a thing never done, seen or heard of, I will accomplish nothing. I will still try, but the inspiration and lessons will all come as a result of an earlier, and popular, attempt by someone with talents, time and tools far, far greater than mine. So I pay homage by using a template that suggests that this combination of light, color, props, emotion and message will stimulate the desired response to our tiny target demographic. And we are trying to get people to simply exercise more. Where is the infringement? I should pay a tribute fee? I am extorting creativity? My intent is positive, wholesome, constructive and peaceful.
She shoots me a questioning glance and says, OK.
You are free to argue. I take liberties here. I have been ripped off many times. I am quite sure that this campaign will spawn another generation of imitators, but that is OK. I do not have the market cornered on fitness, advertising, indoor cycling, videography or the ways and means to increase their combined results or stimulate financial success from their manipulation.
It is, to coin a well-used phrase, a total crap shoot.
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