MY FIRST YEAR IN BUSINESS
Striking out on your own is a bold move. But if your style is more Mr. Rogers than Mr. T, you can ease into your role as a business owner. A year and a half into the life of his firm, Steve Hartman has discovered that this strategy is the key to his success.
Steve
Hartman is a graphic designer-not a writer. So perhaps we shouldn't be
hard on him just because the first essay on his Web site
(www.creativille.net) suffers from an excess of evangelizing and
bootstrap business-ese.
The point the St. Louis-based
designer is trying to make, in all earnestness, is this: "If you could
stand up and make a difference in your industry, make your community
notable, and at the same time make yourself more marketable than anyone
else, wouldn't you jump at the opportunity?"
Hartman's
answer to this rhetorical question is "yes." And it was this calling
that inspired him in late 1999 to leap the conventional confines of
corporate design and stretch his wings. Since then, Hartman, 31, has
devoted his practice to 1) making a difference in the industry, by
following his convictions and learning from his mistakes; 2) making the
St. Louis design community notable, by becoming an enthusiastic leader
of AIGA/St. Louis; and 3) making himself more marketable, through
confident work and good client relationships.
Mr. Hartman's Neighborhood
Hartman's
agency is called Creativille Inc., and he is its sole citizen. But it s
not as lonely as it sounds. His office is a 127sq.ft., second-story
bedroom in a refurbished bungalow, not far from a gargantuan "Amoco"
sign that serves as a neighborhood landmark. Hartman, who focuses on
annual-report design, rents space from his friend and mentor, Karen
Handelman, who runs 501creative on the first floor. Her firm
specializes in design for nonprofits.
Their relationship is
symbiotic: Hartman is chief coffee-brewing officer, while Handelman
acts as his idea-bouncing board. They avoid competition for clients by
keeping to their particular markets; when nonprofits approach Hartman,
he offers the referral to Handelman-although he does take on pro-bono
work-and when for-profits come to Handelman, she calls on Hartman.
There has to be trust and understanding between us, he says.
What's
more, Handelman shares her firm's worthy traditions: Tuesday is Massage
Day for her five employees-a perk that Hartman quickly adopted. "I
worked eight years at my last job, and no way in hell would we have had
anything like that, " Hartman says of his days at The Falk Design
Group, now Falk Harrison Creative, based in St. Louis. "I had back
problems, neck problems. When I started working on my own, I bought the
proper chair." That s the Aeron Chair by Herman Miller, which Hartman
occupies at an oversized library table strewn with paper. (Handelman
has one word for Hartman's office: disaster.)
"I'm taking
care of myself," Hartman continues. "If that costs money, so be it. For
massages, that s about $1,000 a year." A pause, then a rationale:
"You've got to spend money to make money."
To be sure,
Hartman's years at the agency were well-spent. He calls Falk "my
graduate school." There, he was trained in the nuts and bolts of
design; specializing in annual reports, he learned everything from
creative direction to production, seasoning himself for the tasks he
now must handle alone.
Hartman considers himself lucky to
have landed the job at Falk. Graduating in 1992 from Eastern Illinois
University with a degree in art, Hartman stepped out into weak economic
times. His job search, however, was directed by the not-so-subtle
manipulations of his well-intentioned mother.
"My mom gave
me a Valentine's Day card with five job postings in it from the St.
Louis Post Dispatch," he says. "Usually she'd give me $20 or something.
I sent out five resumes and got four rejection letters." But Falk
wanted to meet him. Three interviews later, Hartman was hired.
It's You I Like
Still,
he aspired to own his own company. The opportunity came nearly eight
years later, when Hartman decided to leave Falk-not for any dramatic
reason, only a creeping knowledge that he wanted out. Hartman started
with one pivotal client, Helzberg Diamonds, which hired him to design
its annual report. Before that, he was Falk s creative director on the
Kansas City, MO-based retailer s account. (Never having signed a
noncompete agreement at Falk but concerned about ethical propriety,
Hartman agreed not to pursue his former employer's clients for a year
unless they contacted him, which Helzberg Diamonds did.)
Pam
Rodriguez, creative director at Helzberg Diamonds, says Hartman is the
kind of person who needs to be doing his own thing. "He's a designer,
that s his first love," she says. "But he really has a great
understanding of every aspect of putting a job together, from concept
and strategy to research. Being analytical, he's great at that. Then,
of course, he's a great designer. He also has an extraordinary grasp of
the production side of things: Will that die-cut work? A lot of
designers just think, 'Make it work.' He sees the whole picture. "
Hartman
calls Rodriguez a dream client. "She questions me on everything and
pushes, but she gives me my room," he says. Hartman's other clients
include Atrek Dance Company, the St. Louis Zoo and May Department
Stores Co. Hartman's main challenge now is to find another client as
lucrative and great to work with as Helzberg. "The challenges of being
self-motivated and keeping clients happy come easily for him, "
Handelman says.
You Do Important Things Now
What
doesn't come so easily for Hartman are fiscal matters, so he's looking
for someone to balance the books. "I'm not the best money manager," he
says. "I'd love to be able to sell and to design and have this other
person manage."
Not yet profitable but breaking even, he
describes his income as "a decent living, paying my mortgage and for my
cars," a black VW Jetta and a red Austin Healy Bugeye Sprite.
A
dislike for fiduciary duties still leaves Hartman with strengths in
marketing, sales and, of course, design. "I like to pick the clients I
work for, rather than telling someone, 'Go get them'," he says. In
bushwhacking for clients, Hartman is focused on
corporate-communications and investor-relations departments, where he s
hunting for
big game. "I'm going after the annual report," he says. "It's what I'm trained at, good at and love to do. "
Although
he sometimes wishes he had forced himself to develop formal business
and marketing plans, Hartman doesn't think he needs to, he says,
because he funds the business himself. But he's careful not to neglect
soliciting new business, even when work is plentiful.
"I've
compiled a list of a few hundred companies, which I'll target through
the rest of the year," he says. He forces himself to make dreaded
follow-up calls each week. Other promotions include a Creativille Web
site and last year's New Year's mailing of Boring Postcards, a Phaidon
book that Hartman sent to 30 current and prospective clients.
As
any fledgling business owner knows, landing clients is one thing;
knowing which ones to keep is quite another. And it didn't take long
for Hartman to be burned by a deadbeat client who refused to pay. "I
didn't have a contract, so I just dropped it," he says. "I just gave
them a lot of phone calls, which they didn't appreciate." The lesson?
Heed your gut.
"If I don't feel I can trust someone, I'll just bow
out, which is hard to do when you start your own company and you feel
you should just take anything."
And sometimes the chemistry
just isn't right - another reason Hartman gives for parting ways. One
client, for instance, set hairpin deadlines and could never meet before
6 p.m. "It gave me a really interesting portfolio piece but so much
anxiety and stress I decided not to work with that client anymore," he
says. "It was just maddening."
Those who have observed
Hartman's first year are impressed by his choosiness. "He's not willing
to compromise," Handelman says. "There's a certain level of client he's
looking for, and he'll actively seek it out." Hartman wants to work for
clients who allow him to do work he's proud of. He knows this
selectivity is a luxury, one he's not as likely to have once he hires a
staff.
It s Such a Good Feeling
Although
Hartman's ultimate goal is to populate Creativille, he says, "I'm not
in a hurry to get there." The company moniker reflects this desire as
well as Hartman's modesty, which kept his own name from hanging above
the door.
"I don't want to be this guy who s out trying to attract attention, " he says. "It's self- serving."
A
sense of duty, rather than ego, also characterizes Hartman's term on
the board of AIGA/St. Louis. First as vice president, then as president
from 1999-2001, Hartman oversaw the chapter's resurrection under the
leadership of a reinvigorated board. During his term, membership rose
from 80 to 200 and cash reserves from $3,000 to more than $20,000;
meanwhile, he shed his shyness and grew to like the limelight. But he's
quick to share any glory. "I can't take credit for raising money or
membership, " he says, describing his role as a cheerleader and
motivator.
"People ask me what was the spark that made
things go again," he says. "I don't have an answer except getting
people on the board who were excited, and an upturn in the market.
Maybe we came around at the right time."
Handelman, who has
watched Hartman grow into a leader through AIGA, thinks his quiet
confidence will take him far in business. "He's always treated [his
work] like a business 'I'm going to grow this as big as I can', not
'I'm Steve Hartman and I m working out of my back bedroom,'" she says.
"As soon as he gets that next big client, he'll be more than Steve
Hartman. He's almost there."
For now, Hartman isn't making
any promises. But he's happy with the progress he's made-personally and
professionally-in the past year. "Every time I jump over one of these
hurdles and get over it without hyperventilating or dying or whatever,
I'm proud," he says. "I don't want to walk in and take charge. I want
to build up to it. "
About this article
Reprinted with permission from HOW magazine, December 2001.
About the Author
Diane Richard is a freelance writer based in Minneapolis. She has
worked as a copywriter at graphic-design agencies in the Twin Cities
and is the author of Chicago Architecture: Holabird & Root,
1880-1992, published by Birkhauser Press. She writes about
architecture, design and the people who make it their avocation.
About HOW Magazine
HOW Magazine provides graphic-design professionals with essential
business information, features cutting-edge technological advances,
profiles renowned and up-and-coming designers, details noteworthy
projects and provides creative inspiration.