James Dive is the founder and creative director of Studio Dive, a studio dedicated to pushing the boundaries of experiential creativity around the world. With over two decades of experience, Dive is a sought after collaborator and is recognised as one of the world’s most awarded creatives.
Dive is also a high profile public artist, regarded internationally for his large-scale public installations and interventions. Dive’s work has been the subject of critical acclaim throughout his career, and was quoted as ‘the highlight of Miami Basel’ by the Guardian and chosen for the cover of ‘Wild Art’, a Phaidon publication celebrating artists who challenge the perimeters of the established art world.
James> While not exactly an ad or a video, what always stayed with me - and undoubtedly shaped how I would eventually regard creativity - was stumbling across Jeff Koons’ huge 'Puppy'.
I was in the city with my parents, about 12-years-old, when suddenly we were met by this three-storey high, flower-adorned puppy on the foreshore of Sydney harbour. It really blew me away. For the first time, I saw creativity not as something confined to the white walls of galleries but as something that could literally pounce on an unsuspecting kid.
James> The music video by Jamiroquai for their track Virtual Insanity hooked me completely. I’d just started studying design at university, and it just stuck. I probably didn’t know why at the time, but it is fairly prophetic now that I reminisce. It speaks to all the things I still hold dear - a powerfully simple idea, ambitious execution and just so tangible.
James> I don’t really keep books. I tend to just pass them on after reading.
But there is one book that remains on my shelf, dust free. 'A Fortunate Life' is an autobiography by Albert Facey, and it is not only an incredible story but also a life lived in a manner that profoundly impacts the reader.
Facey was given an incredibly tough hand. He was put to work at the age of eight in early Western Australia, was then a horseman, a bushman, a drover, professional boxer, and wounded at Gallipoli. He taught himself to read and write. Yet through the entire tale is this incredible stoicism and optimism. He wrote the book in his late 80s and, when asked about the title, he simply explained that is just how he sees it. Highly recommend. Five stars.
James> My first job was as a junior art director at Mojo Sydney. I was 21. My first project was for The Sun-Herald, advertising their upcoming coverage of the Sydney Olympics. I created a print campaign where I deliberately cropped Olympic athletes badly with a tag line that read ‘Don’t Miss a Thing.’ I was so happy with it, I cut it out of the newspaper and kept it.
James> As a cautionary tale, I’ll offer this story up. In my early years as an advertising creative, I once pretended to be a camera operator in a market research session. For two hours, I listened to people eat pizza while systematically bludgeoning my beloved campaign to death. I couldn’t even say a word in defence, I just had to sit there behind a mini camcorder. It was a bad idea, don’t recommend.
James> The work by artists Sun Yuan and Peng Yu at the Guggenheim Museum, titled 'Can’t Help Myself'. The work consists of an industrial robot that has one duty, to contain a dark red liquid within a predetermined area. When the sensors detect that the fluid has strayed too far, the arm frenetically shovels it back into place, leaving smudges on the ground and splashes on the surrounding walls. As a work it transcends tech or mere cleverness, giving way to deep human resonance. So jealous.
James> 18 years ago, while still working in advertising, I took a chance and dipped a toe into the world of public art. Titled, ‘Hot With The Chance of a Late Storm’ my sculptural debut consisted of an ice cream truck that had seemingly melted under the harsh Australian sun. It even had a very sad, warped rendition of Greensleeves playing from its weathered speakers.
The work was part of Sydney’s annual Sculpture by the Sea and to my surprise the work quickly rose to a crowd favourite, even taking out a few awards. I didn’t know it at the time, but everything had just changed.
More new public works followed over the next decade with exhibits in Miami, New York and Denmark. These works began to foster an absolute passion for public-facing creativity. Ultimately, my view of advertising expanded as well, sowing the early seeds for what would become Studio Dive - a studio dedicated to what is now known as experiential.
James> This is a tough question. But if I had to choose it would be the Furphy truck that was impossibly wedged in a laneway in the middle of Sydney. It felt like a full-circle moment. While a four-tonne truck dangled from a crane, I couldn’t help but reflect on how I’d gotten to this point. It definitely felt like the sum of years of experience at the coal face of real world creativity.
James> I’m cringing writing this, but it’s too good not to share.
We’d just finished a meeting where we had pitched our creds to a large retail chain. It had gone pretty well, and we were in the closing moments of shaking hands and saying our goodbyes before seeing ourselves out of the room. Mid farewell, I reached for a door and my colleague and I walked through it - straight into a dark stationery cupboard. We’d even closed the door behind us. Carl, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re laughing too.
James> The work that is currently top of mind is our annual Christmas tree that resides in Martin Place. The new Sydney tree marked the first stage of a four year appointment by the City of Sydney as lead design studio, charged with transforming Christmas in Sydney.
The tree is the tallest in Australia, measuring 24 metres high and has more than 800 branches bathed in 110,000 digitally mapped LED lights. It has uniquely Australian features, too: 15,000 flowers, of nine different native floral species, are dispersed throughout. Green-fingered passersby can spot banksias, waratahs, kangaroo paws, and wattles, among others.