The substances I inhale

After the press preview and opening day of The Last days of Pompeii, James Cassidy from FKP Scorpio Entertainment Ltd looked at me and said: "Tell me Peter, what substances do you inhale before you come up with these ideas?"

Fair question.

But honestly? It has nothing to do with substances. Not even Tibetan incense.

What it does have to do with is one thing: connecting the dots.

This particular launch started with thinking about the Holy Blood Procession in Bruges. My son was part of the Roman legion that marches through the city every year. Impressive group. Exactly the energy I was looking for to take over the Brussels Grand Place for the Pompeii launch. I tracked down the group leader. But getting a Roman legion together turned out to be … complicated.

So I did what I always do. I called Chrissie Vanaelst from Strange People. Chrissie is my go-to person for animations and activations. We go wayyyy back. Together we've pulled off some memorable projects — including building an actual Tiny Top for Cirque du Soleil. (Check that project here) Chrissie didn't have Romans "on stock" either, of course. But she was in. The search continued.

A few days later, I was sitting with Hilde Roelandt, our contact at VRT, discussing the campaign for The Last Days of Pompeii. The Romans idea came up in conversation — and that's when the click happened. Hilde remembered a group. A full Roman "society" in Tongeren. She even had a contact.

That's all you need sometimes. One conversation. One person who remembers something. One dot connected.

From that point on, it was all about connecting the right people at every level.

Chrissie and Silas started talking to the Roman Legion: planning, scheduling, logistics, feeding thirty-odd Romans. Meanwhile, other contacts were running with city officials. I wanted the Mayor, Philippe Close, there, of course. That takes time and patience — and last-minute schedule changes, including the moment the bus with the Romans got stuck in traffic.

The bus became a dressing room. We changed the timing on the spot. I contacted the police and asked them to escort the bus. We blocked streets. And then …

The magic happened.

The Romans arrived. Did their final preparations. Got into formation. And conquered Brussels. They were so impressive, nobody needed to be asked to move aside. The Grand Place just opened up in front of them. And as they arrived, the Mayor — who we'd worked with before on other projects — finished his meeting early. A few minutes to brief him. A handshake. And we had our moment.

None of this would have worked without one more thing: a video team you can trust completely. Peter Hoogland and his team know exactly what I'm looking for in the videos we like to run. Not a viral video for its own sake — a video that makes people feel something. That they'll want to share. And that will, in the end, sell tickets to the exhibition.

When you're extinguishing fires in real time, you need a team that moves with you. Not one that's rigidly following a script. In what I do and in who I am, the script is rarely followed.

All the fires. All the moving parts. All the last-minute pivots. It led to something we were all genuinely proud of.

And we got noticed. The campaign was just shortlisted for the De PR Publieksprijs 2025 — PR stunt campaign of the year.

If you liked what we did in Brussels … vote for us here.

Raye's 10,000 Hours

Malcolm Gladwell once wrote that mastery takes 10,000 hours. Ten thousand hours of deliberate practice, failure, repetition, and relentless dedication before greatness becomes possible. (Here’s a recent video expaining what he really meant.) It's a theory that has inspired millions — but rarely does it play out quite so publicly, quite so painfully, and ultimately quite so triumphantly as it has in the life of one South London singer called Raye.

Rent-a-Vocal

Rachel Agatha Keen (as she is known to her family) wrote her first song at age eight. Performed it at Southwark Cathedral after her father taught her to play the piano. By fourteen, she was accepted into the prestigious BRIT School — and by seventeen, she quit because she felt limited. By then, she had independently uploaded her debut EP to SoundCloud. Olly Alexander, then frontman of Years & Years, stumbled across a track called "Hotbox" and passed it to his label. That label was Polydor Records. And that's where the story gets complicated. Polydor saw something in Raye. They signed her to a four-album deal in 2014. What they didn't do — for seven years — was let her make a single one of those albums.

Instead, she was put to work writing hits for other people. Songs for Beyoncé. Songs for Charli XCX. Songs for Rihanna and John Legend. She was, in her own words, a "rent-a-vocal" — a featured voice on club tracks by Jonas Blue, Jax Jones, David Guetta, Joel Corry. Chart placements, yes. A career of her own? Not even close. The label kept moving the goalposts, insisting her singles needed to hit certain streaming numbers before they'd release the funds for an album. Numbers that were never written into any contract. Numbers that could change at any time. A trap with no visible door.

In June 2021, she'd had enough. She took to Twitter and wrote a message that shook the music industry:

Imagine this pain. I have been signed to a major label since 2014 and I have had album on album of music sat in folders collecting dust.

She was, she said, giving away her songs to A-list artists because she was still "awaiting confirmation that she was good enough to release an album." The post went viral. The support from fellow artists was immediate and overwhelming. Within weeks, Polydor released her from her contract.

Here is where Gladwell's theory becomes more than just a motivational idea. Because those ten thousand hours — the years of writing, recording, adapting, being told no, being redirected, watching other artists succeed with music she'd created — didn't disappear. They accumulated. They sharpened her. Every frustration became craft. Every compromise she'd been forced to make in someone else's direction became a lesson in knowing exactly what her direction was.

When Raye finally released My 21st Century Blues in February 2023 as a fully independent artist — managed by her own parents, who had quit their jobs to back her — it was an album that could only have been made by someone who had survived exactly what she had survived. Big band jazz, gospel, boom bap, blues, R&B — a kaleidoscope of everything she'd ever absorbed, shaped into something entirely her own. The industry that had suppressed her handed her the very depth that made the album extraordinary.

My 21st Century Blues peaked at number two on the UK Albums Chart. "Escapism" went viral on TikTok and became her first number one. Then came the 2024 BRIT Awards — where Raye walked away with six trophies in a single night, a record-breaking sweep that included Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, and Songwriter of the Year. Six BRITs. Independently. Without a major label. Against all the artists the industry had chosen to back instead of her.

This Music May Contain Hope

And now, just last Friday — March 27, 2026 — she released This Music May Contain Hope. It is, to put it simply, a masterpiece in the making of a mature artist who knows exactly who she is.

Structured across four "seasons," the album takes listeners from darkness to light — from the haunted opening of "Girl Under the Grey Cloud" through winter storms and personal aches, past a gut-punch collaboration with the legendary Al Green on "Goodbye Henry," a Hans Zimmer-assisted centrepiece in "Click Clack Symphony," and finally into the warmth of summer: joy, healing, and a cheeky global smash called "Where Is My Husband!" The album ends with "Fin." — a full stop that feels earned.

The critics have taken notice. Metacritic rates it at 90 out of 100, earning universal acclaim. But what makes this album more than a collection of brilliant songs is its emotional architecture. Raye has described it as "medicine I'm making for myself that I can share with the world." Listening to it, you believe her. Every note feels intentional. Every lyric carries weight. This is not an artist trying to prove something to an industry that doubted her. This is an artist who has moved beyond that entirely — someone writing from a place of genuine power, genuine freedom, and genuine hope.

Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 hours theory was never really about practice for its own sake. It was about the transformation that happens when you commit so deeply to something that you become inseparable from it. When the skill stops being something you do and starts being something you are.

Raye's hours didn't just happen in studios. They happened in frustration, in grief, in silence, in the quiet act of continuing to create when the world — or at least the industry — wasn't ready to listen. They happened in the songs she wrote for other people that never carried her name. They happened in the tears behind the scenes and the strength it took to finally say, publicly: enough.

The result is an artist who doesn't just sing songs. She builds worlds. She tells truths. She makes you feel less alone.

This Music May Contain Hope is finally out. Play it loud. Play it from the beginning. And by the time you reach "Fin.", you'll understand — the best things really do take 10,000 hours.

Spotify - Youtube

We can work it out …

There is a weekly niche podcast by (to me) legendary producer Owen Cutts) called Mr Cutts’ Chop Shop (Patreon link). It’s about music, life, tea, slurping and much more. This week’s episode was a Beatles (Soul) Cover Special. The palette cleanser of the show was the Stevie Wonder cover of We Can Work it Out. The moment made me realize that there are always things to discover, no matter how much of a music lover you are. Can you imagine I had never heard this version?? It had me dancing in the kitchen while emptying the dishwasher. And yes, it’s in my Mr Cutts playlist now, of course.

Like Owen said, Stevie is a god. His creations are spanning decades and so many of them are etched in our brains for ever. But still … today … was my work it out moment. Don’t you wish we could send this to the powers that be in the world before they turn our pretty planet to shreds.

Pass on the message!

If you haven’t heard it either, here’s the Youtube link.

The Magic That Makes Cirque du Soleil Different: A Reflection on Wonder

Photo by Liesbeth Hoornaert

There's something profound that happens in the darkness of a theater when the lights dim and the first notes of a Cirque du Soleil show begin. I experienced this firsthand on opening night, not as a performer or crew member, but simply as someone in the audience—and what I witnessed around me was nothing short of magical.

The Sound of Wonder

Sitting in the Big Top, surrounded not by colleagues or journalists, but by fellow audience members, I found myself doing something unexpected: I stopped watching the stage and started watching the people around me. What I saw and heard was extraordinary.

"Wow. Did you see that?"

"Oh my god. Is he really going to do that?"

"This is amazing."

"Oh, listen to that music."

"Watch that. Oh, look, he's up there."

These weren't scripted reactions or polite appreciation—these were genuine gasps of amazement, spontaneous expressions of joy, and moments of pure wonder. Two rows in front of me, a woman sat literally on the edge of her seat for what felt like the entire second act, completely transfixed by the acrobats soaring above. When the clowns appeared, the laughter of children filled the theater with a kind of infectious delight that reminded everyone present what it feels like to experience something truly joyful.

This Is Why We Do What We Do

In that moment, watching the faces around me light up, listening to the collective intake of breath during a particularly daring aerial sequence, something clicked. This is exactly why Cirque du Soleil exists. This is why they pour countless hours into perfecting every movement, every note, every lighting cue. It's not just about creating a show—it's about creating a space where wonder can exist.

An Escape Into Joy

As Ibrahim Maalouf said during his recent concert in Gent: "We all know the world is fucked up right now. We know it's very hard to be happy, but at least let's try to be joyful." His words resonated deeply because they capture something essential about what live performance offers in our current moment.

Cirque du Soleil gives people something increasingly rare: a few hours away from the daily stress, the constant stream of difficult news, the weight of everyday concerns. For those precious hours in the Big Top, audiences are transported into a realm where gravity seems optional, where human bodies can fly, where music and movement create something that transcends ordinary experience.

What Makes It Different

What sets Cirque du Soleil apart isn't just the technical skill of the performers or the beauty of the staging—though both are extraordinary. It's the commitment to creating genuine moments of amazement. In a world where we're constantly bombarded with content designed to grab our attention for mere seconds, Cirque du Soleil offers something deeper: sustained wonder.

The lady on the edge of her seat wasn't checking her phone. The people laughing at the clowns weren't thinking about tomorrow's responsibilities. For those moments, everyone in that theater was fully present, fully engaged, fully alive to the magic happening in front of them.

The Gift of Shared Wonder

Perhaps most importantly, a Cirque du Soleil show creates a shared experience of joy. In our increasingly fragmented world, there's something powerful about sitting in a room with hundreds of strangers and having the same sense of amazement wash over all of you simultaneously. Those collective gasps, that shared laughter, the spontaneous applause—these are reminders that we're all human, that we all have the capacity for wonder, and that sometimes the best thing we can do is simply allow ourselves to be amazed together.

This is why people keep coming back to Cirque du Soleil. Not just for the spectacle, but for the feeling. The reminder that wonder still exists. The permission to be joyful, even when the world feels heavy. The chance to sit in the dark with strangers and remember what it feels like to believe in magic.

The Magic Continues Beyond the Show

Later that evening, I received a photo that perfectly captured how this experience extends beyond the theater walls. Liesbeth, who had attended the show was biking home afterward and stopped to photograph the Big Top lit up against the night sky. Along with the image, she wrote simply: "It even is beautiful when you bike home."

That moment—an audience member so moved by the evening that they felt compelled to stop and capture the beauty they were leaving behind—says everything about the lasting impact of wonder. The magic doesn't end when the curtain falls. It follows you home, glowing in your memory like that illuminated tent against the darkness.

And in the end, that's not just entertainment—that's essential.

Saturday Morning Magic: Raising the Grand Chapiteau

It's Saturday morning, and while most people are settling into a leisurely breakfast and weekend relaxation, I find myself on the road, heading toward something extraordinary. As I drive, I'm struck by a strong sense of gratitude—not just for this moment, but for the incredible journey that brought me here.

When I was five of six years old, I would spend hours at my great aunt's house and garden orchestrating elaborate imaginary weddings in her garden. Invisible guests would gather as invisible brides and grooms walked down makeshift aisles, while I banged enthusiastically on a cookie jar that served as my drum, providing the soundtrack for these grand celebrations. The pageantry, the ceremony, the pure joy of creating something magical from nothing—it's one of my most vivid childhood memories, and perhaps my very first.

Now, decades later, I get to work on what is one of the biggest entertainment brands in the world: Cirque du Soleil. And somehow, the miraculous has almost become routine.

That's the strange paradox of living your childhood dreams. After all these years of working with Cirque du Soleil, there are moments when the extraordinary almost feels ordinary, when you risk taking for granted the very thing you once could only imagine. Today, as I drive through the morning light, I'm making a conscious effort to remember just how lucky I am to be doing exactly what that five-year-old dreamed of.

Today, we raise the Grand Chapiteau in Knokke-Heist. In just ten days, on the 30th, we'll have our premiere, and I can already feel the electricity building. I can picture the faces of people as they catch their first glimpse of the Grand Chapiteau—in all its glory, housing a beloved show presented in an entirely new light. There's something beautiful about witnessing that moment when wonder takes hold, when adults become children again in the presence of magic.

"Oh my god, that was incredible,!" I can already hear them saying. And they're right to be excited. What we do is create more than entertainment—we create moments of pure awe, where the impossible becomes possible, even if just for a few hours.

As I continue down this road, I want to pause and say thank you. Thank you to the universe for allowing me to live this dream. Thank you to everyone that is helping me live it, you know who you are! Thank you for the privilege of being part of something that brings joy to so many people. And thank you for reminding me, on this quiet Saturday morning, never to lose sight of the magic in what we do.

The Grand Chapiteau awaits, and with it, another opportunity to create wonder.

Want to know more? Visit stagemagic.be!

What surprised me when bringing Studio Ghibli in Concert to life

I have to be honest – a year ago, I had never heard of Joe Hisaishi. Then, Manu and I were discussing the possibility of creating a Studio Ghibli in Concert project, and I thought: "Okay, why not?" I wasn't prepared for what was about to happen.

The first time I delved a bit deeper into the project and put on "One Summer's Day" from Spirited Away, I stopped whatever I was doing. That melody... there was something about those simple, childlike notes that completely hit me. I had no idea what I was listening to, but I knew it was special.

But it was only when I started discussing the project with fans that I realized what kind of goldmine I had found. When I mention "Studio Ghibli in Concert," a lot of people's faces light up instantly. They start humming melodies. They tell me about their favorite scenes, their childhood memories, how these films helped them through difficult times. I was amazed – this completely transcends typical concert demographics.

Their enthusiasm was contagious. I slowly began to understand why these melodies are so powerful. Hisaishi's music is the bridge between the child you were and the adult you've become. His melodies are deceptively simple, but they carry the weight of entire lifetimes. They make you remember what it felt like to believe in magic, while acknowledging the complexity of growing up.

As a promoter, I've worked with all kinds of music, but I've never encountered anything quite like the audience response to this project. People share their stories with each other as if they were old friends. They talk about how My Neighbor Totoro helped them as a child, how Spirited Away gave them courage during difficult times. There's something universal here that I had never experienced before.

The tribute format with a full symphony orchestra feels perfect for this music because it's not about recreating a film experience – it's about celebrating the emotional journey these compositions take you on. When you hear The Path of the Wind or Princess Mononoke Theme performed purely by the orchestra, the music stands entirely on its own merit. You realize you're not just listening to film scores; you're experiencing some of the most beautiful contemporary classical music ever written.

We are about to announce a new concert on 28 September in Amsterdam and it can't come soon enough. I've evolved from someone who had never heard of Joe Hisaishi to someone who can't wait to experience that moment when the orchestra strikes the first notes of the Totoro theme. I want to see how a whole audience collectively remembers what it felt like to be eight years old and believe in forest spirits.

This project has become important to me because it taught me that the best discoveries often come unexpectedly. Sometimes you have to let yourself be surprised by something you've never experienced before. Studio Ghibli in Concert - A tribute to the music of Joe Hisaishi isn't just a concert – it's a collective emotional experience that reminds us why we fell in love with stories that touched us as children, and why they're still important now that we're adults.

I can't wait to share this discovery journey with everyone who will be at one of the concerts this fall in Belgium, the Netherlands or France. Because if someone who only first heard Joe Hisaishi a year ago can be moved like this, imagine what it will do to you.

The countdown begins now.

If you want to find out more, here is all the info.

Organic is gold

Gary Vaynerchuk at this week’s Possible event in Miami (Possible)

I have been evangelizing organic content for so long, it had to pay off one day. I have always said that your own website, your own content, is basically the only thing that you are in control of. Organic contents gives a brand credibility and it drastically improves your search ratings, of course. But mainly, it tells your story and stories are becoming more important day after day. I have numerous anecdotes and a few success stories to share on organic content that got attention. And is attention not the most important asset in marketing these days? Let me just add one from a “few” years ago below to illustrate.

But … back to this week. At Possible Event in Miami, one of my marketing heroes spoke out about the power of organic content. Of course, in his “no-holds-barred” manner, he quoted rather fiercely: “For 70 years, we have been guessing in war rooms, through our egos and our politics, on what the campaign or commercial should be, and then spend an ungodly amount of money disguising that it was probably a piece of shit. And now, we can post at scale with content that is relevant, see that human beings—not us in the industry—care about it, and have the ability to amplify it or campaign on top of it.”

He went on to urge CEO’s to put 20% of their marketing budget towards content creation for social media in any shape or form: video, text, audio, … The more creative your content is, the more meaningful and interesting, the better it will work. With all the changes in algorithms but mostly in the way your audience is consuming social media, good content is gold.

Just saying …

Stay Gold

I recently saw the impressive show “The Outsiders” in New York City. In the show there is a poem by Robert Frost that plays an important part. The show even derived one of its baselines from it. Stay Gold. Robert Frost is one of the most celebrated figures in American poetry, He was the author of numerous poetry collections, including New Hampshire (Henry Holt and Company, 1923). Born in San Francisco in 1874, he lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont. He died in Boston in 1963.

Here is the poem.

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

I love how the show turns this around and calls upon the main character (and us all) to stay gold. It’s a reminder to find beauty in the simple things and it moved me. Here is the song. (Oh, and do go see the show, it’s special.)

The miracle of the sand

I have always said that sand sculpture events are the most incredible ones to work on. It has been 25 years since I first was involved in a sand project. 26 years since I first stood in awe in front of these huge works of art. Not only life, but also sand finds a way. It is addictive. It is mesmerizing. It is a unique combination of production and artistry. I get to work with building contractors, artists and hospitality and marketing professionals. It’s a project that involves not only the crew but also a lot of people within the city where you are making the magic happen. In Middelkerke all of these aspects come together in a warm way. People care. I was confronted with this there was a break-in and the police had to intervene. The day after the mayor came by to see if everything was OK. People care. Really. There is not just the art. There is the emotion it creates and a special sense of community.

Nevertheless … it’s mostly the art that touches the hearts of many people, including that of photographer Filip Van Roe, who made a very special set of photos during the creation process. “This is quite something,” he said. And it is. I enjoy the process and I especially enjoy the twinkles in the eyes of the visitors. As always.

What makes us long for The Dire Straits Experience?

All photos by Lorenzo Suvee

I have been working with The Dire Straits Experience since 2016. The collaboration started a bit hesitantly, but over the years it has grown into much more than a work relationship. Every spring and fall we present at least 2 shows in Belgium and the fan base keeps growing. There is something weird about this. I just saw 2 concerts and I already know that in a few months, I will start longing for another show. During corona, whenever a Dire Straits song came on the radio, tears welled up in my eyes. It’s a drug, but a healthy one. And a lot of people feel the same way. The Brussels show next November is already sold out. So, I’m not the only one who wants to feel the music and experience the show time and time again.

Journalist Sandro wrote in a review that this band is so much more exciting and charismatic than the original band. That’s quite a compliment for the band and for me as the concert promoter. Chris White is the ultimate British gentleman, Terence Reis is a virtuoso on the guitars and his voice comes so close to Mark Knopfler’s. Add to that the truly world class band and their relentlessness to perform the ultimate show time and time again and that’s what makes The Dire Straits Experience what it is: a band we cannot wait to see again!

The Genius of Refik Anadol

When someone asks me what it is that draws me to the work of Refik Anadol, I usually say it’s the combination of technology and art. But the strange thing is that when you are facing one of his works, you don’t think of the technology behind it. You experience beauty, ever changing beauty and yes, that beauty is based on technology, data and artificial intelligence. The technical aspect is mind blowing in itself, but I suggest you visit one of his installations around the globe to get a feeling of what the buzz is all about. He has even got a project running on the Sphere in Las Vegas … Or you can check out the TED talk above.

Official website: https://refikanadol.com/

How to party like Gatsby

Trek je mooiste jurk aan, lift je feeststemming tot het hoogste niveau en dompel je onder in het feestgedruis. Zo bondig kan het zijn als je naar een party gaat. Maar of dat genoeg is om te feesten à la Jay Gatsby?

We schrijven het jaar 1922 en iedereen hoorde al van de mysterieuze miljonair Jay Gatsby, een visionair, een dromer en een showman. Zijn missie is helder en klaar: het grootste en mooiste feest ooit geven, waar de hele stad zal samenkomen in gelukzaligheid en euforie.
Jij staat op het punt toe te treden tot de inner circle van Gatsby en aanwezig te zijn op één van zijn spectaculaire parties. Maar hoe bereid je je voor?

Gangsterstijl

Alles start met de juiste outfit, met hotsy-totsy zijn. Voor één keer mag je glamoureus glitteren en glimmen naar hartelust.
De heren kunnen simpelweg hun beste pak uit de kast halen. Met een setje bretellen erbij, kom je helemaal in de gangsterstijl van de jaren ’20. Droom je ervan jezelf te hullen in een echte smoking, alsjeblieft, zeker doen! Echte durvers kunnen zelfs opteren voor een witte versie. Maar voel je niet verplicht om zo ver te gaan. Niemand verwacht van je dat je nu stante pede naar de winkel rent om je in de kosten te gooien voor een smoking die je verder nooit meer zal dragen. Wil je op een simpele manier rijkdom en decadentie uitstralen, vervang je stropdas dan door een gouden exemplaar of probeer een vlinderdas en zet een hoed op. Van een hoge hoed, over een deukhoed naar een strohoed tot zelfs een klassieke pet werden allemaal gedragen in die tijd. Zo, Old Sport, trek nog een paar lederen, lage schoenen aan en kan je ergens een wandelstok op de kop tikken, neem die gerust mee om je outfit te complementeren.

Charleston

Ook de dames hebben vast wel iets in hun kleerkast hangen dat als basis kan dienen voor het feesttenue. The Roaring Twenties waren immers een tijd van verandering, van durven en proberen. Sommige ladies hielden vast aan een traditionele jurk, terwijl anderen de zoom almaar korter lieten worden en experimenteerden met franjes en glitters. Daarom kan zowat elke cocktailjurk dienst doen, zolang je rekening houdt met pasteltinten zoals perzik en roze, of het veilig houdt met zwart of wit. En natuurlijk goud, zowel voor je jurk als voor je accessoires. Bij die laatste horen parels, parels en nog eens parels. Een stulp- of klokhoedje kan, maar nog feestelijker is een haarband met glitters en pluimen op. Meer pluimen over je schouders in de vorm van een boa, die overigens ook van (nep)bont mag zijn, lange handschoenen en misschien nog zo’n sigarettenhouder met bijhorende sigarettenpijp brengen je helemaal in de sfeer. Denk er wel aan dat dit alles voor de show is want roken is uiteraard niet toegestaan op onze feesten. Met je schoenen zit, of beter, sta je gebeiteld met t-strap of Mary Jane pumps. Als er maar een bandje aan is, op of over voet en/of enkel. Iets traditioneler is een gerijgd enkellaarsje. De gemene deler van al dit schoeisel: een niet te hoge hak die je toestaat om helemaal uit de bol te gaan op de Charleston.

Zo, klaar voor het feest. Er rest je nog één ding te doen: geniet, niet met mate maar eindeloos veel. Vergeet daarom niet om al je vrienden uit te nodigen om met je mee te gaan. Als er ergens de regel hoe meer zielen, hoe meer vreugd telt, dan is het wel bij Gatsby! Samen herinneringen creëren om met plezier op terug te kijken, kan toch alleen maar met je beste maten.

Blowing minds since 1997

The Shakalaka! origin story

A few years ago I came across the Holstee Manifesto. Around the same time I got to know a company in Malaysia called Mindvalley. Their CEO is a guy called Vishen Lakhiani and his vision on running a company blew me away. I distinctly remember seeing his 50 minute presentation Why Happiness is the New Productivity on a Sunday afternoon and watching it again immediately after, frantically taking notes. Following Vishen’s request to copy his vision and ideas I re-created my own company and more specifically my view on what I was doing.

Relentless organic content evangelist

In 2016 I had the honor and pleasure of becoming the oldest intern ever at Zimmerman Advertising in Florida. It was a strange experience to me. I felt as if my head was split up in physical departments (and floors of the building). What stuck after my stay was the vision of Jordan Zimmer and the way he transposed his tenacity to the different teams within the agency. I kept the tag on my desk and I have proudly taken over the relentlessness stated in my “title”. Never stop. Never hesitate. Go on when others would quit. That is what makes the difference. It describes exactly the way I run my projects. Time after time.

photo (c) Zimmerman Advertising

Values

I believe that everything I do is based on 5 foundations. Passion, Talent, Creativity, Design and Respect. I added a sixth principle later. It’s not a foundation, it’s a vision that I discovered while working on The Flemish Primitives with some of the world’s greatest chefs. The new generation of chefs has grown to a level of quality that is higher than ever before. This happened through something that scares the hell out of most of us: sharing. I used to believe that my system was mine and mine alone and it was my strongest USP. It isn’t. After seeing how today’s top chefs are not afraid to share their problems and their solutions, I started opening up and sharing.

The Flemish Primitives - photo Bruce Palling