All of this corporate discussion reminds me of an experience I had today—-visiting the Apple Store. A new one opened in Seattle months ago, very close to the University of Washington campus. I wanted to visit since its opening, but resisted because I have a G3 from 1998. A trip to the Apple store is one step closer to buying a new computer, which is one step closer to replacing all of my software, which is not what I want to spend time with right now. So I went looking only. I made the 1.28-mile trek with the intention of merely stopping by the Apple Store on my way to Barnes and Noble for Christmas gifts. In the end, it was all too familiar.
Coming over NE 45th Street I saw it. From over 200 yards away, I spotted the iconic Apple logo, almost glowing. “I don’t think another store in this shopping area has such a big presence,” I said under my breath. And besides Target, is there another retail outlet projecting only a symbol, an icon of their corporate identity on the storefront?
As I got closer to the store, the excitement built. What would the inside look like? Would there be new computers for me to play with? Oh yeah, what about Panther? Would it be installed for me to dabble and compare against Jaguar? These questions escaped me as I opened the door and walked in, because the first thing I encountered was nothing. A blank rectangular area about 16 foot x 18 foot invited me in. Nothing impeded me from entering. Nothing interrupted my view of the entire store from the front doors to the wide screen projected movie on the back wall. The closest computers were eight paces away. I found this invitation a nice change of pace from other retailers who attack you with merchandise as soon as you walk in. The nearly raw concrete floor sat under my feet, emitting a freshly cast smell. The floor radiated—-it actually felt warm, in contrast to the cold and wet outdoors of Seattle.
Walking around the heated floor, music completed the experience. Brian Eno may have orchestrated it. Even now, I regret not asking the salesperson who was playing over their iTunes engineered sound system. All the computers were displayed carefully against the wall with plenty of elbow room. Hardware, speakers, and utilities sat in the middle aisles of the store. Comparing the two, the wall display was elevated more comfortably, but I hunched over to play with the aisle merchandise. I noticed the other customers struggling away on the keyboard or rolling through an iPod list while stressing their back.
Positioned near the center of the store was the Kid Zone. I nearly ran over the three-foot high table because my head turned in every direction, ignoring the path in front of me and observing the luminescent signage above. (A typeface other than the stoic Garamond condensed hung from the 16-foot ceiling.) Four eMacs opposed each other in Kid Zone and four spherical chairs invited children to sit down and play while mom and dad had their machine serviced. I sat on the sphere-shaped foam and bounced around. Nobody cared for my playfulness because they were all involved in buying or inquiring about a computer. Customers occupied themselves with an iBook, PowerBook, iMac, iPod, or G5. All six salespeople demonstrated something Apple for the first-time buyer. They stood out from the customers and the warm white/gray combination of machines, lighting, and shelving with bright-red shirts, equipped with a white Apple logo in the center of their chest. Heroic in appearance, one salesperson sat behind the counter of the Genius Bar. From what I could decipher, the Genius Bar was a place where Apple users took their machines for help: a service station.
For those users who wanted to learn things on their own—-without the help of a genius—-a big screen projection played the video “All About Apple.” Placed in front of the projection were a series of Eames Tandem Sling Seats, much like those I grew up with at Omaha’s Eppley Airfield. The Apple film had testimonials of people who switched operating systems. Animated screens demonstrated the flair and simplicity of being an Apple user. The OS looked fun and exciting. Users synthesized various media types on their iPod. Cameras downloaded images with the efficient iPhoto. Cursors danced across the screen. The techno music and candid interviews from the movie clashed with the Eno ambience, and I took this as a sign. It was time to leave. I walked away with the new 20-inch iMac calling me from the distance.
Leaving the store, I headed for Christmas shopping at Barnes & Noble. I felt drained, as if I just left an amusement park. In truth, the Apple Store has much in common with Epcot Center and Disney World. (Epcot Center opened in 1982 after Disney World’s successful opening in 1971.) Like Epcot Center, the Apple Store is also a world of tomorrow, loaded with technology that is always fresh. Epcot’s Test Track, sponsored by General Motors, thrills guests with hair-pin turns and all terrain action. It’s not just the cars positioned around the ride, when it comes time to choose a car, your experience of the ride will call to you. It will effect your decision between a VW Jetta or GM’s Saturn. (Show me a designer who would take the Saturn over the Jetta. That’s a blog for another day.) The power in these places is the visual, aural, and tactile stimuli pushing and pulling us about the landscape. Whether its the Apple Store selling computers or a cooperative advertising venture between Disney and General Motors, we make multi-layered connections with products. We see them, touch them, hear them, smell them, and experience them. By infecting so many senses, we realize that there’s one thing missing: home. We have fully experienced the product. Now, it must come home with me.
And now Volkswagen has taken the consumer experience into a unique position, where we witness the birth, creation, and delivery of the product. It’s something that wouldn’t benefit Apple in my opinion, but is fascinating. At the VW Dresden plant, an assembly line allows customers full display of their car being manufactured. You can even purchase a package deal with hotel and rental car. The beautiful images of the campus appeal to all senses. The resort is more Club Med meets Bucky Fuller than Disney. It’s all very glorified, part museum, part showcase, part shopping mall, and all corporate experience.
The Apple Store, Epcot Center, and the VW Dresden plant all signify a unique opportunity in marketing: experience. Call it the fourth dimension. Walking through the Apple Store I remarked how closely its luxurious/wide open space, modernist aesthetic, smooth floors, subdued color palette, controlled typography, and sophisticated music mirrored the well-designed machines I crave. The environment brought me closer to the iMac I want and, the lifestyle it promises; Target seems boring by comparison. The whole experience is a far cry from the stores I grew up with in Omaha, Nebraska while shopping with mom and dad.
As I entered the bookstore looking for their gifts, I was disappointed. Things were not the same as the Apple Store. I longed for the chic aesthetic I left behind. (And I longed for that iMac.) However, Barnes & Noble looked and felt like a place of knowledge—-an antiquated library. The form suited the product, and I roamed around with curiosity like I would in a library. As I made my way to the video section, a DVD caught my eye: Mel Stewart’s “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (1971), based on the novel by Roald Dahl. Even before the Apple Store, Epcot Center, or VW Dresden were brand extensions, Dahl created the ultimate corporate experience and Stewart visualized it. If the rumors about remaking the film are true, I expect a very real Chocolate Factory built in the near future. Fortunately for Wonka Candies, the companies mentioned above plus dozens of others have already proven that Dahl’s business model conceived in 1964 can work.
Excellent, excellent post!
What other stores or brands would benefit from this kind of sensory involvement and excitement? I'm wondering how this might be implemented on a smaller (mom and pop) scale. Is it possible?
On Dec.09.2003 at 06:44 AM