In his recorded lecture “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Distraction,” New York Times art critic Jason Farago observes that much contemporary painting is flat. Sharp, geometric, and photogenic paintings have flooded both markets and social media feeds. Farago posits that this visual tendency is part and parcel with the way that images circulate on the internet—these real paintings rely on compelling digital representation for exposure. Perhaps they are composed, partially, to quickly seize and reward the attention of the viewer encountering them amid a sea of other, totally unrelated images and videos on the internet. The social feed collapses many other spaces into one: a painting may appear in sequence with pictures of your friend’s family, branded content, or a meme. Extending Walter Benjamin’s argument — hence the title — Farago suggests that painting has ceded still more of its primacy to its reproductions.

Embedded in this sentiment is something applicable to all imagemakers, branding gurus, and marketeers: we are competing for slivers of attention in a world where the ability to pay deeper attention is collapsing. We ask audiences to focus on what it is that we have to offer. Amid this competition, are the rewards gained by attention paid less than they ought to be? Our images, and their impacts, are polluted by the others that surround them.

As with any tide, this trend has a counterpart. Perhaps this is why reading is experiencing a trendy moment, W Magazine has launched a youth magazine, or teens are going Luddite Mode (internal trademark). Groups like The Birds or the Strother School of Radical Attention are evidence in and of themselves of the value we now place on attention: we prize it highly even as the world conspires to erode it. Fellini predicted this decades ago. We must admit, given our place in commercial society (advertisers, commercial designers, strategists, etc.), that we are among the perpetrators. So how might we overcome our worst stereotypes? How might we reward the attention that we, as marketeers, so demand?

In his lecture, Farago suggests a way of overcoming the flattening effect of the internet. In the age of “Mechanical Distraction,” artists might make work that rewards both low attention and high attention.

Brands, we believe, can do the same. A contemporary brand, in a more crowded, hot, and demanding commercial world, can and should reward a deeper look. Layered expression (which we could perhaps term “brand thickness” after this Adam Mastroianni essay), emerges across channels and pulls various levers. To reward a closer look is to build capaciousness, idiosyncrasy, and expansiveness into strategy documents that are typically intended to define but all too often serve to restrict.

People create culture, but brands have the capital and platform to shepherd, disseminate, and expand it. At Studio & Marie, our approach to strategy is implicitly tied to the question: how can brands enhance the lives of its audience? How can brands introduce audiences to new perspectives? Make room for the unpredictable? Unlike Mastroianni’s Bosch discourse, brands needn’t squirrel away references, but instead they can incorporate, remix, and introduce them. Each Boot Boyz drop taught us something.

Our early strategic process sets priorities, organizes the essential strengths of a business, and interrogates a brand’s (inevitably) competing ambitions. We emphasize asking the right questions so we can get to a tactical approach that embraces our client’s strengths in inventive, expansive ways. On social media, digital properties, traditional ad channels, and in-person events, a brand should add layers to its composition.

Farago’s lecture has been making the rounds at our studio because his argument is not just about fine art. In a world of image glut, the quality of our attention has become anxious. Our screen time is high, yes, but we pick up our phones an astounding number of times. The challenge for all contemporary imagemakers is to craft the work that breaks through the speed of contemporary life, the work that seizes our deeper attention and offers us something that we carry with us through our days. The consequence of flat work is invisibility. But the reward for good work, for layered work, is higher than ever.