|
|
 |
 |
| Sunday, 14 December 2003 |
 |
|
 |
Features |  |
| News Business Features Editorial
|
The end of an era in Sri Lanka's ad industry Farewell, boss by Lasanda Kurukulasuriya
In the many interviews he has given in the course of his life, Reggie Candappa has repeatedly been asked by journalists what the secret of his success was. His modest claim that he was simply "in the right place at the right time," belies the evidence of talent and entrepreneurship that must surely have gone into building the formidable business conglomerate he left behind. He lived his life to the fullest, and at 78 had the satisfaction of saying, "Looking back on my life, I would say that I have achieved what I wanted to." The last time I met Mr Candappa (or "boss" as he was affectionately called by his staff) was earlier this year at his residence, on a part-business, part-personal visit. He had just acquired a new silver Benz, and at 84 took as much delight in showing off the car as he probably would have if he was 19. While there may be other self-made men who would do the same, not all of them would have the humility to recall, as he did in the same breath, the early days when his mode of transport was a push bike. That was at a time when he was newly married, disowned by both family and in-laws and living in a rented room. The fantastic story of his love affair with, and run-away marriage to Therese, a Mudliyar's daughter, has been related many times over by eager newshounds. It was the stuff of romance, the prototypical young-artist-living-in-a-garret, in love with a seemingly unattainable 13 year old schoolgirl. A story replete with love letters written in invisible ink, secret trysts, a lady-love locked up by an irate father and a gallant knight to the rescue. It was a marriage that lasted over 50 years, ending with Therese's death in 2001.
Equally extraordinary is the story of his childhood. Reggie can truthfully claim to have had four fathers instead of the customary one. This mixed blessing came about as he was an unwanted infant. His 18 year old mother died a few weeks after his birth, leaving his distraught father convinced that he, the newborn, was the cause of it. The "bad-luck-baby" was unceremoniously dumped on three bachelor uncles and an unmarried aunt, who, mercifully, accepted him with good humour and surrounded him with all the love and material comfort a child could want. Until his marriage, at which point they disowned him, cutting him off from the family fortune. The details of how he made his own, are history now. Again, we have one of the most colourful stories imaginable. The man whose company is affiliated to the world's biggest international ad agency, now raking in millions, started his career in 1939 at the architects firm of S. Sanmuganathan, drawing posters for the Suriyamal campaign (protesting Poppy Day). Candappa's dream was to have an office just like S. Sanmuganathan's. In 1943 he joined Swadeshi Industries as a freelance commercial artist, on a salary of Rs. 150/- per month. Those were the days when he designed covers for an underground communist magazine, hung out at Paiva's Tea Room and made friends with Pieter Keuneman, S.A. Wickremasinghe and other left intellectuals. In 1944 he fulfilled his ambition of setting up his own studio, with a telephone and an assistant ("No one rang me in those days!"). He even published a (short lived) Sinhala magazine called Lanka, together with Anandatissa de Alwis.
Under pressure from a disdainful father-in-law, Reggie sought a "real" job at Associated Newspapers of Ceylon Ltd. (ANCL) in 1946. When he demanded a salary of Rs.350/- per month he was asked by D.R. Wijewardena "why he wanted so much money." After confessing that he wanted to get married, he was hired as a commercial artist at Rs. 300/- a month. Reggie's big break came when Grant Advertising International Inc. of USA wrote to ANCL's Managing Director George Gomes asking him to recommend someone to head the branch agency they hoped to set up locally. Reggie was not only released for this project but sent on a two month scholarship to North Western University, Chicago, to study journalism and tour the US. George Gomes's wisdom lay in the knowledge that advertising would play a major role in the future newspaper industry, and that Reggie would be a "friend of Lake House" in advertising. And so, in 1958 was born Grant Advertising (Ceylon) Ltd., with one client (TWA). Others like Brown & Co., Shell Co., Singer and Reckitt & Colman followed. While some of those clients are still on GME's client roster, those early days represented a very different marketing context. This is reflected in Reggie's remark that "fridges in those days were so rare, those who owned one kept it in the drawing room with a vase on top." Deshabandu Reggie Candappa the artist, the journalist, the publisher, the photographer, the cartoonist, the philanthropist, the chairman and president of so many clubs and associations, will go on record for varied contributions to media and society. But perhaps the character trait he will be best remembered for is his impish humour and ready wit. Everyone who worked at Grants knew, when they heard loud collective guffaws (male) or shrieks of irrevent laughter (female) emanating from some part of the building, that "boss" was in that area. The numbers of ad agency people who have passed through Grants in the past 45 years are legion. Reggie's daughter Neela Marikkar, Managing Director of Grant McCann recalls the many who started at Grants and went on to head agencies of their own - Lilamani Dias Benson (Lowe Lintas), Ranjit Jayasuriya (Ranjit Jayasuriya Associates), Anandatissa de Alwis (De Alwis Advertising), Herman Gunasekera (Creative Services), Shantha Saparamadu (Grace Advertising), Garad Jayewardena (Garads), to name a few, some of whom are now dead and gone. "He was very proud of their success."
Neela, who inherits the Grant legacy, asserts that the one thing she would hold on to is the integrity of the business. "He was someone who believed in ethics and integrity. The industry has changed a lot. But we won't compromise on that." Grants has sometimes been portrayed (by detractors) as a "family business," implying family interference. But surely it is values such as these that have set Grants apart from the whole slew of ad agencies that mushroomed in the latter half of the century. Being a business that yields a quick return on investment, all too often the tendency in the industry has been to think of little else. This is why the passing away of Reggie Candappa marks something of a watershed. Advertising people are generally not given to observing hushed silences. But metaphorically speaking, if ever there was a moment for such a pause, for them it would be now. |
|
News | Business | Features
| Editorial | Security Produced by Lake House |
A black flag with a cross hangs outside the office of Sri Lanka's
biggest advertising agency, Grant McCann Erickson, in Colpetty. It signals
the end of an era in Sri Lanka's capricious world of advertising, as it
marks the death, on December 6, of its founder and chairman, Reginald
Sebastian Rodrigo Candappa.
