A giant has gone. The lessons remain.

By Tham Khai Meng, Former Co-Chairman and Worldwide Chief Creative Officer of Ogilvy & Mather

Neil was a true great friend and I’ll miss him terribly. He was a lovely person, forged from a singular mould. He was not only a remarkable talent, but also had the most extraordinary of résumés: manager of heavy-metal band Judas Priest, promoter, rent collector, matador, raconteur, singer, bon vivant, art director, typographer, gourmand, cook, storyteller.

When I first met Neil, he was already irascible, but he enjoyed a good laugh and saw a funny line in every situation. Therein lies his genius.

When he arrived from London to Singapore, he quickly found fame as a rapier-sharp adman. He did many mould-breaking ads, and one of the most irreverent and audacious was a newsprint campaign done with Khai Wor, the marketing director and vice president of Singapore Press Holdings, the holding company of The Straits Times. KW also happens to be my brother.

To prove the power of print advertising, they invented a beer, designed the pack, and advertised it— the funny thing is there wasn’t any such beer. It was a huge success. Demand for the non-existent product shot through the roof. Barmen were assaulted for not selling the beer. Consumers desired to have a taste of the product. You could run the ads today, and you would still get the same powerful results.

By the time I asked for a transfer from Leo Burnett London to their Singapore office, Neil had already begun the creative revolution in Singapore, followed by Thailand and soon, India. His rise was meteoric, his influence, pervasive. It was palpable. Creatives wanted to meet his standards, or to mirror, or rival, and ultimately they hope to surpass him.

Inevitably, Neil was hired by Ian Batey to join Batey Ads Singapore, the hot shop known for putting Singapore Airlines and the Singapore Girl on the world map.

Neil was a man in a hurry. As soon as he set foot at Bateys, he wanted to change the Singapore Airlines strapline from, “It’s a great way to fly” to, “Not just a pretty face”.

He proposed the idea to the founder and de facto creative director, Ian Batey. I believe Ian said, “Over my dead body”.

The rest, as they say, is history. When Neil got the big gig as the worldwide creative chief at Ogilvy, he called me at Bateys. He was looking for someone to fill the role he was vacating—the Asia regional creative post. He invited me for lunch to meet the equally charming, savvy and brilliant Miles Young, Chairman and CEO of Ogilvy Asia Pacific. We met at an Italian restaurant in Ann Siang Road, Singapore. It was on a Friday and we had a very, very long lunch that went onto happy hour. The three of us never returned back to the office. You could get away with it in those days but not anymore which is a shame.

They sold me the gig and I was hired as the Asia Pacific creative director. We traveled everywhere, Malaysia, The Philippines, India, Thailand, Africa, Spain, France. We worked on planes, trains, busses, boats, cafes. We had a lot of fun. Neil was a giant and I had the honor to stand on his shoulders and saw far.

Amidst the thick creative soup, the petri-dish of disorderly creative ferment that was around us, Neil was very disciplined about being sharp and precise when it came to the communication strategy. 

 “The strategy needs to be  simple, tight. No fluff. Every piece of relevant information you need has to be all there written on a single sheet of crisp A-4 paper, no more and no less. If the strategy is not clear, you can’t do the work” he extolled.

He preached incessantly about it and sent missives on it. It was a springboard. We created great memorable ads that moved not only hearts and minds, but also built brands and rang the clients’s cash-register tills. It worked.

It was a matter of time before he would meet and marry the spirited and vibrant Louisa. They adopted a beautiful son that they named Daniel.

Our family had the supreme pleasure to spend some of the most wonderful times with the Frenchs at their house in Deia, Majorca.

One fine day as we sat by the cove watching Dan and our sons Tristan and Tyron clambering up the steep hills like mountain goats, he leaned over to us and whispered sotto voce, “I have to say being a father is by far the single best thing I have ever done.”

It was refreshing to hear Neil say that. I will venture one step further: above and beyond all of Frenchie’s outstanding achievements, perhaps his G.O.A.T. was being the most committed and loving father to Dan.

It was beautiful to watch. Clearly, he was onto his next great thing – a new chapter in his life. He found his holy grail.

I spoke to Dan a few days ago and he told me, “He was truly the best father anyone could ever ask for. He was such a loving dad to me.”

Neil, may we have the honor and privilege to witness you do your victory lap around the ring. Or what you aficionados in Spain would say, dio una vuelta al ruedo.

 ¡Ole!