Deep South v.3 n.3 (Spring 1997)
The logo on the can of Dominion Breweries Ltd (DB) Beer is instantly recognisable to almost any New Zealander -the rustic black lettering on gold background, the sheaf of wheat and the inevitable boast of "time honoured tradition" and establishment date of 1897. Such a logo follows a typical format, similar to that of its competitor breweries, yet is individualised by the picture framed by the brand name, -the DB Draught Clydesdale team pulling a wagon of beer kegs in a mountain setting. This scenario is the premiere marketing icon of the corporation, signifying the company as "New Zealand's Master Brewers".
The picture of the DB Clydesdales connotes much more than as a stylised logo on a beer can. They are real and accessible to the general public of New Zealand, with a reputation extending far beyond the circle of beer-drinkers in popular pub culture. For admirers of the team, both New Zealanders and foreign visitors, the horses do not represent a beer company as much as the brewery represents the horses. This slippage between the levels of signification, and levels of authenticities, is central to the consideration of the differing ideological dynamics of commercial enterprise and historical nostalgia.
The marketing importance of the DB Clydesdales to the company is reflected in the commercial venture set up to maintain the team and perpetuate the myth indicated by the icons on the beer can logo. The team is structured around a particular concept of the Clydesdale horse which is more symbolic than natural, commandeering a uniformity of presentation not usually found in horse circles. The criteria demands black animals with similar white markings that is not at all representative of the breed in general. However, such a presentation is necessary in order for it to fit the particular image mythicised by the company's logo. In this respect, the Clydesdale team are less importantly individual working animals than an overall visual image, constructed for and motivated by commercial gain. Although the Draught horse becomes emblematic of the mythological heritage of pioneering New Zealand, the underlying ideology belongs not to the animal, but to the company. The Clydesdales do not exist outside the concept of showmanship and visual spectacle; they are icons of the historicity constructed by DB:
New Zealand's Master Brewers, DB Breweries Limited sees the team as symbolising the culture and tradition of DB Draught, reflecting the qualities of honesty, dignity and strength inherent in the heritage of the brand and the proud spirit of the Clydesdale.[1]
Thus the concept of Clydesdale horse can be taken to represent the more collective Clydesdale team, which is how they are marketed.
Not only a visual display, the function of the DB Clydesdales is projected into a wider cultural framework, as discussed by Claudia Bell in the showcasing of identity and the staging of a selected version of history.[2] As commercially driven nostalgia, this constructed heritage becomes markers of the identity of DB Draught Beer. Authenticity of the project is validated by such figures as Clydesdale breeder Fergus O'Connor, whose Nelson stud stands a Clydesdale stallion that tends to throw black offspring, suitable for the purposes of the Brewery. In keeping with the vision of continuity of New Zealand's traditional heritage expounded by DB, it is the reputation of breeders like O'Connor who DB calls upon in boasting of the quality of their horses:
The establishment of the team has been warmly welcomed by the public,Clydesdale enthusiasts and breeders who believe they have set new show standards and further established the breed in New Zealand.[3]
Due to the rarity of black Clydesdales, DB virtually hold a monopoly on the market for them, and is an enormous influence on breeders who are only too willing to meet the formula - which is more about money than improving the breed beyond looks.
DB professes a particular work ethic which is extrapolated to encompass the motivation of their horses as well. This may be read in similar terms to Nietzsche's consideration of the re-presentation of the past in a different context, re-orientated in the present.[4] DB actively packages the 'best' qualities of the company's past , embodied by the 'best' traits bred into the animal in order to construct an identity professing the continuity of old-fashioned values and links with New Zealand's pioneering heritage. In this sense the Clydesdale is an exemplar of national experience, symbolic of a 'monumental history'[5] to which the multi-million dollar corporation links its own business ethics.
The DB Clydesdales endear themselves to the New Zealand public not for the parallels between character and corporate policy however, but for their visual appeal. As public relation agents to the company, the horses are objectified quite simply by their conformity to a concept fixed in the psyche of those New Zealanders ingrained with the notion of a collective pioneering heritage. It is one thing to see the Cobb & Co. coach horse -similarly iconographic of the colonial cultural ideology- immobilised in the Canterbury Museum,[6] but quite another to take this out of the museum institution and reconstruct it in not only a living media, but also in a modern context. Yet this is exactly what DB is doing, by extracting a single element of of the past and repackaging it as a newer version which purports to encapsulate local and national history in its entirety. Such framing of historicity to create a 'new' past is seen by Bennett as a way of projecting continuity from past to present and into the future.[7] DB structures a social conscience in this fashion with their version of the history of the Clydesdale Draught horse:
the task which will see them (the horses) out on the road doing what has historically always been done by Clydesdales - delivering beer.[8]
Of course the majority of Draught horses in early New Zealand never had anything to do with beer at all, being principally bred for farm work. Selective historical representation by DB is in this way used as a marketing ploy to construct nostalgia.
Rugged, rustic, but altogether unlikely settings for beer delivery feature in DB Breweries Ltd promotional postcards and brochures.
The acceptance of our history as an idyll built on pioneering dreams and heroism is a product of what Bennett terms historical osmosis.[9]. As such, the nostalgic sense of connection and continuity from past to present is a response to the manufacturing of an ameliorated social history. Bell illustrates this as constructed most patently by the museum institution.[10] It is easy to see the production of the DB Clydesdales in this light, as a kind of parading exhibit. Much hype is made of the restoration of the 95 year old original keg wagon still pulled by the team today. The authenticity of this wagon is only slightly usurped by modernising features -such as the oak casks fixed in position on a sliding inner tray which is loaded on and off the dray by forklift. This show wagon exemplifies the attention to detail taken in recreating the overall feeling of nostalgia created by the apparently genuine turnout presented. This is further accentuated by the driver's costume of oilskin slicker and wide-brimmed hat, reminiscent of the days when the real Keg Handlers delivered beer in all conditions. The costume of the horses as well features in many promotional blurbs, boasting of the craftsmanship of unique harnessing, the purpose of which adds to the visual show spectacle. In the DB Clydesdale team, we view the 'public face'[11] of the rural labouring class, instantly recognisable to most New Zealanders in the 'town-meets-country' dynamics of presentation at Agricultural and Pastoral Shows, where the DB team often feature. The exhibitionary complex generated by the showring runs very close to the showcasing of exhibits in the museum display which ignores and reduces conflict and difficulty, making visible only the attractive and aesthetically pleasant side of reality.[12] The rustic charm manipulated by such presentation has proved popular in the urban setting of today. By relocating icons of the past, the myth of the common heritage it denotes is reiterated and strengthened, and as such, packages the success and fulfilment of the past into a history projected into the future. As contrasted with the insecurity and transience of today's reality, the version of the past that the DB Clydesdales are located in is clearly defined and safe in being unchangeable. Williams and Lowenthal[13] see this reenactment of the past as reaffirming our relationship with our own historical identity, and it is from this perspective that the DB Clydesdales assimilate the role of a part of Kiwiana.[14] As stated in the pamphlets, "Like the beer, they are 'As Kiwi As It Gets'".
But where is this beer? In seeing the DB Clydesdales as a visual spectacle conjuring up nostalgic sentiments of our heritage, the consumer good that the team purports to be symbolic of is significantly overshadowed by the mythical ideal they signify. Their emphasis has shifted from Bell's concept of a set of props, or 'motifs of decoration',[15] which enables the romanticising of a selective history, to nearer the idea of Meaghan Morris of enshrining tokens of the past by hybridising them in today.[16]
DB constructs historicity by circulating the team as a kind of
stage show accompanied by other related props to further enhance the maxim
'As Kiwi As It Gets'. Arguably, the more Kiwi it gets, the less authentic
the show becomes, as the historic and traditional basis for the team's
appearance is surpassed by the spinoffs associated with it. The
establishment of a South Island team to deliver kegs to inner city bars in
Christchurch in 1995 illustrates the construction of kiwiana as propagated
by the Brewery. Continuing to represent the qualities of the company
already mentioned, there appears to be a much stronger display element
motivating the presence of the Canterbury team. Professing to carry on the
traditional beer delivery method, "...doing what has historically been
done by Clydesdales - delivering beer...", the concept appears very
much driven by the Christchurch City Council's
ambitions to establish a particular central city ambience
to suit tourists. Brochures of the team
depict them as at home in the city's restored and preserved
features of
antiquity like Worcester Boulevard and New Regent Street. The effect is
to locate the Clydesdales as integral as the tram tracks and cobbled
paving in authenticating the English city of the Antipodes. By its very
name, Dominion Breweries orients itself from within this cultural context,
and the DB Clydesdales add to what Fredric Jameson termed "pseudohistorical
depth", in that they add to a style of aesthetics proclaiming itself as
history.[17] As icons of regional and national symbolism in this overtly
exhibitionary context, the DB Clydesdales support the mythological New
Zealand past represented by such staging.
The presence of the team is accompanied by the merchandising of souvenirs, including the clothing styles worn by the human team. This is perhaps most obviously typified by the "I survived the DB Draught Clydesdales" tee-shirt, the quintessential 'been there-done that' marker of sight-seeing attraction. Paradoxically, the intention to validate the 'true to tradition' authenticity and uniqueness of the team is undercut by the commercial mechanisms of mass marketing in such production of souvenirs. By the semiotics of attraction theorised by Dean MacCannell,[18] the DB Clydesdales are markers of DB Beer. As the visual icons used as identification markers for the Brewery, the team becomes the attraction superseding the entity which they represent. Audience participation is encouraged by the Brewery on either level of identification:
You can be a part of the experience, watching the team en route or frequenting your local and celebrating the arrival of fresh kegs of DB Draught.[19]
In mid 1997 the Canterbury team was discontinued by the company as economically nonviable. Such action highlights the motivation of corporate capitalism underlying the community-focused agenda professed in DB's extensive advertising. Indeed the true-to-tradition dynamic, although indicating the stability and security of our past, functions at the discretion of the company. Unlikely to be changed by time, progress or technology, use of the Clydesdale horse may still be made redundant by corporate policies.
The DB Clydesdales stage show is, in many respects, not dissimilar to the concept of the travelling circus. The main team, managed by Nick van der Sande and based on the company-owned Waikato property, tour the length and breadth of New Zealand on a continuous promotional tour. Ultimately, as a commercially motivated enterprise, the Clydesdales exist for the company solely as a promotional entity, even though they have come to symbolise much more in their capacity as tourist attraction and representative of New Zealand cultural heritage. It is in this promotional capacity that DB marketing becomes a multi-media project, incorporating television, radio, billboards and poster advertising. DB brings their particular representation of authenticity to the tourist and local alike. In a culture imbibed with the traditional ritual of a pint at the local, it seems only fitting that the horses should be brought to their original and traditional domain. The image of the horses parked outside the pub incorporates a notion of belonging that is a theme running through nearly all of the television advertisements for DB, playing on an anachronistic national identification with the rural community lifestyle. However, this nostalgic pastoral ideal is somewhat undermined when the differing levels of authenticities collide. One particular advertisement where locals were cast as extras for the filming was later screened on a national Crimewatch programme, seeking information on one of the fill-in actors who had disappeared and is suspected to be the victim of a drugs-related murder. Although the 'real McCoy' element appeals to the claim of authenticity, it is by no means absolute. At least the "staged" authenticity of the team and its entourage are a known quantity.
The advertising preceding the visit to a town by the team is extensive, with the slogan "the Clydesdales are coming" adorning posters everywhere. (Note that by town it is meant the more central pub where the DB Draught is to be found.) When the team arrives, it is much larger than the six horses, wagon and driver seen by the public.
Multiple support vehicles and personnel accompany the custom built seventeen metre long transporter in order to carry the equipment necessary for the team. Even this support crew is a form of advertising for the Brewery, such as the huge mural painted on the side of the truck portraying the team straining at their harness in the mountains. In reality, life as a DB Clydesdale is more about being shampooed than working up a sweat. Wherever they go, sightseers line the road, armed with kids and camera to
"join with DB Draught in saluting the world's best-loved draught horse and the traditional heritage of New Zealand's finest beer."[20]
The influence of the team continues inside the hotel with the performance of accompanying DB Breweries band, 'The Draughts'. One of the most popular party tricks is the appearance of one of the horses being led through the pub. Ironically the Clydesdale wandering around the bar room could well be the one on which the artist modelled his drawing in designing the logo on your beer can.
Many supporters, particularly tourists and children, identify the DB Clydesdales not with a brand of beer, but as symbols of a national history. Thus the exhibitionary element of the DB icon effectively supersedes the connotations of beer and pub culture intended by the company. The Brewery's marketing ideology is somewhat simplified by a much more basic function of spectacle and parade, appealing to an audience far wider than the 'Kiwi' locals it purports to represent. The DB Clydesdales do not belong to the company as much as they belong to the New Zealand public, illustrating what it means to be Kiwi.
[1] As described in promotional postcard blurbs.
[2] Claudia Bell 'On Museums' Inventing New Zealand: Everyday Myths of Pakeha identity , Auckland, Penguin Books, 1996 , p55.
[3] Promotional material 1, op. cit.
[4] Tony Bennett, 'History on the Rocks', in Australian Cultural Studies: A Reader , Ed. Frow, John and Morris, Meaghan, Urbana, University of Illinois Press, 1993, pp231-235.
[5] Friedrich Nietzsche, Thoughts Out of Season Part II, New York, Gordon Press, 1974, pp17-24.
[6] Canterbury Museum, Christchurch. Early Settler Period exhibit featuring a reconstructed street fa‡ade with restored passenger coach and horse display.
[7] Bennett, op. cit. p. 235.
[8] Promotional material 2, Christchurch city keg delivery route brochure.
[9] Bennett, op. cit. 231.
[10] Bell, op. cit. pp55-60.
[11] Ibid, p. 58.
[12] Ibid, p. 60.
[13] Ibid, p. 69
[14] Shirley Horrock, Robin Laing : Kiwiana, Video documentary, Auckland, Point of View Production, 1996
[15] Bell, op. cit. p. 69.
[16] Meaghan Morris, in Australian Cultural Studies: a Reader op. cit. p. 243.
[17] Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism: The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism Durham, Duke University Press, 1991, p. 20.
[18] Dean MacCannell, The Tourist: A New theory of the Leisure Class, London, Macmillan Books, 1976, p. 20.
[19] Promotional material 2, op. cit.
[20] Ibid.
BELL Claudia : Inventing New Zealand :Everyday myths of Pakeha Identity Auckland, Penguin Books, 1996
BENNETT Tony: The Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics London, Routledge 1995
FROW John, MORRIS Meaghan (eds): Australian Cultural Studies: A Reader Urbana, U.of Illinois Press 1993
JAMESON Fredric : Postmodernism, The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism Durham, Duke University Press, 1991
MacCANNELL Dean : The Tourist: A New Theory of the Leisure Class London, Macmillan Books 1976
WEDDE Ian : How To Be Nowhere: Essays and Texts 1971-1994 Wellington, Victoria University Press, 1995
Write
a letter to The Editor,