Remembering Paul
“He’s a real writer, he just happens to do his writing in the advertising business.”
That quote from one of my old colleagues, Steve Bautista, describes Paul perfectly. He was a real writer.
I recall fondly my many years working with him. He was slightly disheveled. His pant cuffs were often a little too long and tattered from getting stepped on. But from the pockets of those pants Paul would regularly pluck scraps of paper, all crumpled up, only to reveal a headline, or a paragraph or an idea that was often brilliant and always something you wish you’d thought of yourself.
I can still recall some of his headlines by heart, my favorite being the prose he crafted to introduce Timberland’s new boat shoe. “A boat shoe should be judged by how it goes with a black sky, not a blue blazer.” Paul could rattle off lines like that the way the rest of us might write a sentence as straight forward as this one. He would have been a rock star on Twitter.
But despite his tweed jackets and those pants he was constantly pulling up, when Paul stood tall, in front of an audience, his command of a subject, his ability to position a brand, his consistent insights made him the smartest man in the room. You sometimes wondered if the entire look was manufactured just to get you to lower your guard.
Paul’s sharp mind, his never ending wit (often scatological), and his enviable acrobatic verbal skills made every creative person who ever worked with him better. If you were a writer, you struggled endlessly to compose copy in hopes it might be as good as Paul’s. If you were an art director, you strove to develop your skills in hopes that Paul would partner with you. Who wouldn’t want his headlines atop their layout? It virtually guaranteed you a piece of hardware at the next year’s award shows.
Like any great creative talent, Paul was opinionated, competitive, over-confident in his ideas. But unlike many, he had the talent that entitled him.
Paul died unexpectedly yesterday. Those of us who worked with Paul, will miss him. But we’ll never stop trying to be as good as he was.
Please, if you were a friend, a colleague, even an industry rival, share your thoughts or memories here.
A small collection of Paul’s old ads can be seen on our Flickr page.
Paul Silverman’s short stories
Note: funeral services for Paul will be held on Friday, August 14 at 11:00 A.M. at Puritan Lawn in Peabody, MA. All are welcome.
It was as a Mullen traffic manager, and during a yearly review with Paul, that I was given the best direction ever. He told me not to allow myself to be consumed with keeping schedules updated and spreadsheets populated but to allow more time to personally interact with the creative teams, assisting and supporting them where I could in order to make the best product possible. Incorporating Paul's suggestion, throughout my 24 years with the agency, made all the difference in the personal gratification I experienced.
I am left to wonder if Paul ever began a draft of “The Simple Fart of Greatness”, his idea for a sequel to Jim's book…
Paul was the finest example I've ever known of that potent combination of self-actualized talent and self-deprecating charm… He will be missed terribly. My heart goes out to his beloved family and friends.
I was fortunate to have worked alongside Paul twice – frist at Mullen and then later after we’d both moved on to new ventures. He was an inspiration and forever shaped this media person’s view of what great advertising could and should be. It was both a privilege and a pleasure to share his work with the world. My heartfelt condolences to his family.
Love that photo of Paul. The eyes and posture captures his easy elegance, his panache, that sense of delight that radiated around Paul, simultaneously calm and abandoned. The man was cool. A dancer that tapped, waltzed, and swing through ways of looking at the world. His dancing was infectious. Loving. Think Dave Swartz mentioned that when he laughed, his eyes would sparkle. And it was as if you too sparkled in their light. During client meetings when new-to-advertising folks like me looked around the room and saw nothing but solemnity or at least dead seriousness among the senior staff, Paul was this presence that allowed us (certainly me) to relax. Brought you back to spontaneity. Reminded you that ultimately we were not at war. That our value was just being who we were, the whole messy lot of us. Last night I called Jane Strong, a planner with whom I worked on a project that Paul as creative director led. Jane took the news and there was a long silence. “That dear beautiful man,” she finally said. “So much there. So much there.” I think she captured the complexity in what she said and how she said it. In his ease, there was a richness, an abundance. He shared it gorgeously. I guess he also ventured through some awful pain. I am sorry for the pain he leaves all the gorgeousness he created. But I also know that the more tangible beauty he created (specifically, his family) as well as the inspiration and support he provided so many of us, continues to live. Sharing his sense of life, his abundance, he brought and left the world with genuinely enduring gifts.
Paul hired me at Mullen during a much simpler time. For starters, the offer letter was directly from him and contained very little detail except start date, salary, and the following promises: “The troubles are endless. The joy sublime. You even get a vacation. Not to mention discounts on Timberland shoes and Rolls-Royce motor cars.” When my first son was born, Paul helped me to establish a then-unheard of flex work schedule, without which my career may have ended then and there. As so many have said, I owe so much to Paul. And on a lighter note, he always referred to me and my colleagues as “The Broads of Cast” with that signature smile and twinkle in his eyes.
Even for those of us who only knew Paul a little bit he was a tremendous role model and a hell of a lot of fun to spend time with.
I will remember the office when Paul was there as the “Taj MaPaul” as Jim Mullen always called it. I will also remember Paul as a brilliant writer and a warm human being. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word. I was lucky to see him often these past several years when he came in for Four Seasons meetings, always taking the time to stop and chat. He was also very funny and I'll always remember him telling me that someone should build a prep school across the road from Governor Dummer and call it Governor Dumb.
He will be truly missed. My heart goes out to his family.
Paul and team pitched us when I was on the client side many years ago in Boston. His passion and enthusiasm for the craft is what inspired me to work on the agency side and head to NYC.
Eric:
Glad you stopped by. Yes, Paul was complex and sometimes hard to figure out. But by the looks of these comments, he inspired a lot of us. Plus he made us laugh.
Amy,
It was Paul's father's favorite joke, and the quote is “One was salted”. Get it?
Jim
A measure of a man is the nature of the moment when people first hear he is gone. I was at a meeting in San Francisco, coincidentally (or not) with two other ex Mullenites, when one of us shared the news. The meeting stopped while we spoke — with reverence and teary eyes — of our experiences with Paul. I was in the PR group in the 90s, working on the Timberland business, and as a lover of words and ideas I cared about whatever business Paul was involved in. Much later, I discovered Paul's stories, which you can find here http://paulsilverman.com/ and I hope you do, because he love/d/s these stories.
Micah, after 20 years in the business, I pretty much lost my fascination and love for what we do. In this world of massive social connection I decided good products sell themselves better than advertising and for the most part, we are talking to ourselves.
Your recollection of Paul brought me right back to the spark I had at 15 when I found out you could get paid for coming up with stories about how to sell products. And like Paul himself, it inspired me to strive to be better at what I do.
Thank you.
I am so sorry…I don't have words to express the grief that I feel at the moment…Deb
This is brand new news to me…I am just so sorry and can't find the words at the moment other than I count myself among the lucky ones to have had Paul in my life.
Deb
I dreamed of working at Mullen because of ads written by Paul and Edward which I'd committed to memory from the awards books. When I got the job, the dream became all too real but I pulled myself together and made it from New York to Wenham. It was an ad writer's Mecca. Mythical yet hardcore. The Mansion rounded out the aura. But Paul, while partly responsible for it, brought it down to earth. (Poop jokes on the way to the client will do that.) There are so many brilliant and hilarious people who have passed through that agency because of a standard for writing and working that he set. It made me a better writer. It also put me in the path of my wife, who is from Boston. It's been many years since I worked there, but since then so much good has happened that I can trace back to what brought me there in the first place. I hope Paul's family knows how true that is for a lot of people.
Years ago when I was just starting, he offered me a job and I turned it down. Over the ensuing years he'd bust me about it whenever our paths crossed. Never told him it was because I was so intimidated by his talent. Amazing writer. A huge loss.
Amazing… looking over the list of commenters here I see a Who's Who of the people who accompanied me and guided me in my first tentative steps into the world of advertising. Big thanks to all of you (especially Amy, Ed and Jim)… and particularly to Paul, whose graceful, calm and entertaining presence was a sort of psychic center at Mullen around which so much of the creative energy organized itself. I still remember him well as one of the most important figures in my time at Mullen, acting almost as af bridge between that “Mad Men” recollection of the hey-days and the creative advertising challenges of the modern world. Thank you, Paul.
I was on a plane once with Paul and he was sitting directly in front of me. Just before take-off he turned and mumbled, “Hope you don't catch my tail wind.” Classic Paul. Then there was the time his expensive watch slipped off his wrist and into the airplane toilet. After landing, they fished it out and handed it back to Paul, who was grateful yet horrified at the same time. He kept the watch in the trunk of his car, sealed in a plastic bag. I bet it's still there.
There has been a request by the family for donations to a local food pantry. This is one we have been suggesting.
Beverly Bootstraps Food Pantry
http://www.beverlybootstraps.org
371 Cabot St
Beverly, MA 01915-3357
(978) 927-1561
I was certainly not the best AD Paul ever worked with (far from it), but it's safe to say that I was the first.
It was 1975 and Mullen (then Superfine Productions in a small apartment in Marblehead) was a very different place from the Mullen we see today. But Paul was exactly the same as we all remember him.
Funny, quirky, insightful and (although he didn't fully realize it yet) enormously talented. I treasure all of the over 29 years that I worked with Paul, but those first years were very, very special.
I could be wrong about this, but I don't think I ever met Paul in person. But I certainly knew him.
I knew him because I studied his ads–especially his print ads–until the pages in the awards books were worn out. (They tell young writers today to take their noses out of the awards books. Just think what they're missing.)
I learned so much from studying his work. I learned how to be elegant and clever without being showy. I learned not to be afraid to use words when they were called for. (The goal wasn't to keep the copy short, it was to make the copy good.) I learned that advertising writing didn't have to sound like advertising writing.
I never came close to being as good at these things as he was. But I learned a hell of a lot from reading Paul Silverman
I can't believe I never thanked him for the lessons.
No one taught me more about writing than Paul Silverman. While most of us would toil endlessly in search of the perfect headline, Paul would extend a perfectionist's attention to every letter of body copy; punctuation included. In meetings filled with loud people, Paul was probably the most quiet. But when he spoke, his words were the ones you wanted to hear. The fact that he was a gentleman just made him all the more endearing. Today it's cool, and gray, and wet, and drab outside my window. Paul would have written something nice about those conditions.
I was at Mullen so long ago that the agency would still hire writers like me. And the Paul you describe is exactly the one I remember.
Paul would come into the office humming a show tune and with a pocketful of headlines all on various small scraps of paper. His passion was infectious. His writing brilliant. Paul hired me one week out of art school. I knew nothing about making ads. He was a great mentor.. among all his teachings one stands out so clearly. We sat across from each other in his office. Holding up his arm and flexing his bicep, he said “your design muscle is huge, I want your idea muscle to be just as big.” Words that still echo in my head today. He made us all better.
Such a shock to hear of Paul's passing. He was a legend. Someone who I just kind of assumed would always be around. The advertising world has lost a great spirit.
Paul Silverman was my first husband. Theresa is so kind that she called me and told me the terrible news. I met him when I was fifteen when he came to my home town of Ipswich, Ma. to write for the Beverly Times. I married him when I was nineteen and we were married until I was thirty. Those years with Paul were of the utmost importance to me. The shock I am feeling now is astounding. I am very happily married and have been for some time but Paul and my love for him is a part of me forever and ever.
This is very hard to bear but I want to thank Jim for everything he is doing and I want to thank Theresa again.
Lucky for me, the early years at Mullen were in very close quarters. As I cut and pasted mechanicals (remember those days?), I listened to the team of Paul Silverman and Steve Haesche banter back and forth a non-stop stream of brilliant, humorous, how-did-you-think-of-that ideas, hour after hour, day after day. Paul was one of the most creative writer/thinkers I have ever known. Some of my favorite memories of Paul – he hated the Beatles and mentioned it every time a song came on, he loved chicken's feet and he swooned over my matzo ball soup. But mostly, and always, I will remember how much fun we had.
Lucky for me, the early years at Mullen were in very close quarters. As I cut and pasted mechanicals (remember those days?), I listened to the team of Paul Silverman and Steve Haesche banter back and forth a non-stop stream of brilliant, humorous, how-did-you-think-of-that ideas, hour after hour, day after day. Paul was one of the most creative writer/thinkers I have ever known. Some of my favorite memories of Paul – he hated the Beatles and mentioned it every time a song came on, he loved chicken's feet and he swooned over my matzo ball soup. But mostly, and always, I will remember how much fun we had.
An iconic man with an amused glint in his eye. That’s how I think of Paul. I remember once I showed him a TV script for a pitch. He read it. Held the paper. Paused a few beats. Then looked at me and said: “You could do that in Europe, not here. It’s too….edgy.” A let down couched in a compliment. Idea surely stank. But Paul always had a way with words.
I feel lucky to have learned from Paul – experienced his approach to craft firsthand. It’s made all the difference.
I met Paul only once.
It was shortly after I started.
He was coming in to write headlines for Four Seasons with Michael A.
It was incredibly humbling to meet the guy that I had heard so much about.
The word smith, the kind leader, the legend. The heart and soul.
I shook his hand hoping some of that would rub off.
He gave me a smile and simply wished me good luck.
Paul, Thanks.
In your honor we will do our best to be both brilliant and kind.
And to the family I am so sorry for your loss.
Been thinking a lot about Paul and what he meant to many of us. To me, Paul didn't write ads. Paul read people. He took time with them. Got to know them. And because of that, he said something to them that mattered. Sometimes he said it to many through an ad. Sometimes he said it to a friend walking down a hallway. But whatever he said, however he said it, it mattered. And we remembered it. His words, his observations, his thoughts were and are special.
The attendance at Paul's service today is a testament to the kind of person that he was. Family, old friends, new friends, and so many colleagues from years and years ago. Everyone was important to Paul…and Paul was important to everyone. And even amid the tears, there were some smiles and laughter. He would have liked that.
Like so many others, I was shocked to hear of Paul's passing. His wry take on life seemed gently tempered by his innate courtesy so that all found themselves feeling included in the hard work of thinking as well as the fun of advertising. So many familiar names here who worked more closely with him but saying the same thing. What a tribute.
Such a kind gentleman. Thoughts and prayers to his family.
I was lucky enough to work with Paul (as a lowly traffic manager)
when the agency consisted of 12 people. Jim introduced me to Paul
by telling me – this man is brilliant – and that he was. Paul's wit will forever impact me.
Paul was graceful and aristocratic and I never could believe his humble roots. He was also kind and real mensch to those of us in the office that didn't really get the confrontational ad biz style. I remember he and I went down to New York to present to Calvin Klein himself. Paul was just unflappable, calmly savoring his breakfast at the Four Seasons while I was a total wreck. He helped me to see what a game this whole thing is. I will miss him.
Paul Silverman was the finest, most gentle, and most wickedly funny souls I have ever had the honor of knowing. I remember working with Paul on the Timberland account, and how one day in the beginning he brought me a copy of Robert Service's poetry and a J. Peterman catalog, telling me: “Make Robert proud and Peterman jealous.” He was truly a creative director who could creatively direct, and at the same time, positively inspire. I'm going to read his short stories now and try to sense his spark again. He would often threaten to write a novel, the opening line of which was to be, “Bob could often be found at cocktail parties farting quietly into corners.” To this very day, with every reception I go to, I look to the corners and think of Paul.
I was Paul's sister-in-law when I was kid and he was like a big brother for a time. I always think of him when I hear the Creedence Clearwater Revival song “Sweet Hitchhiker.” It was blaring on the radio as he drove down Route 128 with me in my mother's red VW Squareback. Paul was heading to Zayre in Beverly to do an interview for Discount Store News. I almost always had fun with him and felt more free with him than with my mother and sister. I remember once walking around the Star of the Sea Church in Marblehead with him. We saw a nun in the distance. Paul wished the nun would ask us the question, “What reason do you have for being here?” so he could respond, “None.” In 1971 he told me he would never forgive me and I didn't see him much after that. But I forgive him.
In my 10 years at Mullen, I was never fortunate enough to work directly with Paul, but when I saw him in the hallways, he always knew my name, he always said hello and he always had a smile. He was a legend in this business and will always be fondly remembered!
Thank you Ed for your remembrances …as a former PR guy at Mullen, relished those times when an assignment connected with creative and the occasion to have Paul in the mix. His insights, easy smile and engaging nature elevated my thinking and made me feel welcomed and valued … for me those confidence building experiences define his natural generosity toward colleagues. Always grateful Paul.
Peter Minasian
peter@minasiancommunications.com
It is with such great sadness that I have received this new today. (9/12/09)
Pauls talent did not outshine his warm smile, kind words, and humor,
shared in many a late night presentations and gruleing 90 hour weeks.
He was one of few men in this industry I was honored to have worked for.
I thank him for valuing all of us who worked in the studio, as people and
employee's. He was truly a man of distinction, and in my experience with him,
he knew how to pull the best out of people, even if we were at our worst.
To his family, he was a really neat guy who I always thought of as
the calm and never the storm. I hope that those who have written and
have remembered him, have shared their memory with you. As I have found
there are many sides of our spirits that not all know about, and mine is how
I remember him and am grateful for that memory. I hope these memories
will bring you some comfort at this time. You are in my prayers.
Sincerely, michelle dilisio (aka mike)
ps I wish this had spell check cause I stink at spelling and I know paul would
be correcting it!
I learned of Paul's death only today from Alimentum publisher Paulette Licitra, who forwarded a notice from Paul's white, Teresa.
Paul was indeed a real writer. I speak as one who had the privilege to publish his stories in Alimentum, the literary journal that I edit. I'm a writer myself who has won and judged awards for fiction, and who has taught creative writing now for over twelve years. And I will tell you, as a editor, as a teacher, as a writer, as a reader, I've seldom come across work as consistently good. Paul's style was all his own; he wrote to his own heartbeat. From the first line of his that I read I knew I was in very good hands.
I never met Paul but even I miss him and am deeply saddened to learn of his death. I know that the literary world has lost a superior writer, and I'm pretty sure the world has lost a superior man.
I learned of Paul's death only today from Alimentum publisher Paulette Licitra, who forwarded a notice from Paul's white, Teresa.
Paul was indeed a real writer. I speak as one who had the privilege to publish his stories in Alimentum, the literary journal that I edit. I'm a writer myself who has won and judged awards for fiction, and who has taught creative writing now for over twelve years. And I will tell you, as a editor, as a teacher, as a writer, as a reader, I've seldom come across work as consistently good. Paul's style was all his own; he wrote to his own heartbeat. From the first line of his that I read I knew I was in very good hands.
I never met Paul but even I miss him and am deeply saddened to learn of his death. I know that the literary world has lost a superior writer, and I'm pretty sure the world has lost a superior man.
What can you do with each moment of your life, but love till you love it away?
Love till you love it away.
by Bob Franke
For Paul from Sharon Kennedy with love on the terrible anniversary