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Prior to visiting Richmond, I had written Fenske, asking if I could sit in on one of his classes, and was told in his return e-mail that, because it was the students’ first day back, I could not. It wasn’t a good time. However, he’d be happy to meet me for a drink, after class.

We shook hands. Of all the personalities I have met in advertising, Fenske is easily one of the most intriguing, intimidating, and perplexing. He wanted to know about my schedule for the rest of the day, and if we were still on for drinks. “Sure,” I said. “But still keeping me from sitting in on your class?”

He groaned. Fenske frequently groans, and no two are ever alike. Sometimes it can express disgust, contempt, and even occasionally curiosity. From my past experiences I likened this groan to the “This ad sucks. How dare you waste my time with such mediocrity?” variety.

I glanced at Boyko. He knew that I knew Fenske, and I could sense that he knew there was a loose-cannon factor associated with his star professor talking to a writer that might not bode well for the institution in which he had vested so much. Boyko shrugged. Not his call.

“Okay,” Fenske said, not entirely convincingly. “Give me a half hour to talk to them, then you can come in when they’re gonna present their work.”

Later, when I saw him heading into his class, he smiled and said, “It’s time for the disemboweling.”

If Clients Can Be Taught to Get It, Who Will Be Left to Blame?

When I spoke with Don Just, head of the client track at the Brand-center, it was easy to see why in past years students had voted him their most difficult and favorite professor. If he looks less like a professor or flashy ad guy and more like the president of a bank, it may be because he once was the president of a bank, as well as the former CEO of the Martin Agency (Wal-Mart, “Virginia Is for Lovers,” and a little account called Geico), the acclaimed shop that put Richmond on the advertising map and has played a major role in the development of the Brandcenter. With a résumé like this, one would think that Just would be satisfied if not entitled to coast, to share his wisdom with students gathered at his feet. But this was hardly the case. In just his second year heading up the client track, he appeared driven to build it into something special, far beyond the stereotypical creative factory.

“We are not a portfolio school,” he explained. “We want to redefine what the space is by providing value that MBA graduates are not trained to do. We are focused on innovation and collaboration. Because the great clients, the clients who get it, understand the importance of the creative side.”

For Just’s second-year students this included an independent-study program developing marketing strategies with real-world clients. This year he also introduced an innovation lab that will culminate in his students creating a series of publishable white papers on topics such as the future of retail. But don’t expect to see footnotes in the MLA Handbook style. At the Brandcenter, what’s been done is not nearly as valuable as what’s yet to come, so the case histories of the past are less valuable to Just than the fresh insights of the present. “I want them to invent their positions,” Just said. “To focus on anticipating what will happen and share their original thoughts on it. Not cite things. We are,” he said, “creating the futurists of our industry.”

Of the first small group to graduate from the client track in 2007, half went to the agency side or a consultancy, and half went to work for clients.

Leaving Just’s office, I imagined a future situation in which a Brandcenter-educated creative/account/planning team pitches a Brandcenter-educated client who is being advised by a Brandcenter-educated consultant, and I wondered if it would be the ideal or nightmare dynamic.

I suspect that someday soon we’ll find out.

Worlds Collide

I tried sneaking into Fenske’s Advanced Portfolio class while he was lecturing, but he immediately made me part of