Dynamic duo haul in big fish

By IRENE CHAPPLE

Roy Meares and Jeremy Taine are lit from below by a soft orange glow as they relax around the vibrant plastic boardroom table at Meares Taine.

As Meares points out, while sucking in his cheeks, it highlights the cheekbones. It also washes them, and the room, with a tangelo tan.

The table is big and bright, and both men are at a loss when asked whose choice it was.

"The architect just turned up with it," says the shaven-headed Taine with a faint smile. "I like it."

Richard Priest Architects, designers of Meares Taine's offices when they set up five years ago, also plastered a booming "Hi" sign above the receptionist's desk, and a quieter "Bye Bye" slapped across the exit doors.

Apart from the heavy swag of advertising awards, there are no obvious signs declaring this is the home of Meares Taine.

Meares screws up his nose when asked about it.

"Nah, we didn't want our names up there," he chuckles with a faint Liverpudlian lilt.

"We just thought of the first thing you say when you walk in - it's 'Hi'."

And while some big accounts have said Bye Bye since the agency's inception in 1997, many more - including last week's high-profile win of Lion Nathan's Lion Red and Steinlager - have walked up to the big welcoming sign.

The Lion Red, Steinlager and Speights (collected from Saatchi & Saatchi last year) accounts appear to be a poetic full circle.

The "Pride of the South" Speights campaign was the brainchild of the creative duo 12 years ago when they were at Saatchi & Saatchi, as was the "Red Blooded" concept for Lion Red.

Meares and Taine then left Saatchi & Saatchi and the Lion Nathan brands. They helped to set up M&C Saatchi locally, then left in a storm of ill-feeling after a request for a greater shareholding was rejected.

The creative pull of the duo attracted two big clients from M&C Saatchi: DB Breweries and Ansett. Meares and Taine found themselves being asked when they would set up their own agency.

"It was the day before Christmas [when the two departed from M&C Saatchi]," says Meares, po-faced.

"It was snowing - the first time Auckland had had snow ... "

Taine hoots at his shorter, older creative partner's exaggerations.

These two have worked together for almost 20 years, since Taine began as an office boy at an advertising agency where Meares was creative director.

They have a similar sense of humour, and like the same beer. They work in the same office but barely socialise together, and count that as a plus.

"We're not in each other's pockets," says Meares.

Taine wears jeans to work, is learning the guitar and writes songs. He scoots off early to see his partner and their young child.

Meares calls everyone "love" and is a huge fan of the Beatles, displaying them on his tie to prove it.

He has settled in for an extended chat. "I'm enjoying this. I love to talk - I could talk till midnight."

The dynamism between the two seems to be one reason the agency has attracted such sought-after clients.

Meares is the ideas man - he took home a Lifetime Achievement gong from last year's Axis Awards - and Taine the wordsmith.

One client describes them: "Roy just understands people and what spins their wheels. Jeremy will collect the ideas and follow them through. And when you're dealing with Meares Taine, you're dealing with Roy and Jeremy."

The comment points to another strength of the agency: It is not smothered with suits, and the principals' involvement is direct.

Overtures from multinationals have been rejected. Publicis Communications held a 20 per cent shareholding in Meares Taine since its first year, but the two bought that back, at an undisclosed cost, last year.

Publicis got the shareholding in return for carrots such as studio access and financial backup.

After a disastrous year in 2000 - they lost Clear Communications, DB and Ansett - last year was for investment, says Meares. They gathered Pfizer, House of Travel, Fisher & Paykel Finance and Holden.

The A$17 million ($20 million) Macquarie Bank account led to an Australian office, called Meares Taine Gill, which now employs about seven people.

This year, the Auckland office hired Paul Gould as managing partner.

The agency, which has about 14 staff, is set up to contract or expand at short notice. It uses freelancers, much as M&C Saatchi - which Meares describes as a training ground - did in its early days.

This business style means bad years are survivable and rapidly rising workloads are manageable.

The agency has jealously guarded its working environment. It does not need the financial backup of multinationals - billings at the Auckland office will be about $25 million for the coming year.

"Multinationals will always keep knocking at the door," says Meares, "Or we might open something else.

"I guess we have to think of our welfare for the future."

Meanwhile, a party to celebrate five years has just been suggested. The actual birthday - on February 3 - was overlooked, but Meares is suddenly in overdrive.

"We should have a birthday party. We should have it in July, and there can be carol singers outside and people with polystyrene flakes ... and everything will be in black and white and ... "

Fairies? Tane suggests.

"Yes!"