Background information
Thermomix, we need to talk again
by Luca Fontana
CES Behind the Scenes: The rush on the first day, deadly sins and granite
9.1.2019
Translation: machine translated
Video: Stephanie Tresch
This is the story of the first shoot at CES 2019 - a story of chaos, power and how a woman on a table can drive a man to white heat.
We didn't expect that.
Because video producer Stephanie Tresch and I have a few expectations for CES 2019 in Las Vegas. We want to see innovations. Not necessarily things that you can buy today or this year, but things of the future. Things that will shape our world, whether we like it or not.
Because CES is much more than just an exhibition of shiny new things. It is a place where ideas are exchanged, the future is openly speculated about and where visionaries meet financiers. And in between: Two Swiss journalists with good shoes and cameras.
Two among 180,000.
Some 180,000 visitors from all corners of the business world, from Swedish consultants to Chinese engineers and Israeli investors, wanted to see the hottest trends on the first day. This is the story of the capsule beer tap video shoot.
LG, at 10 in the morning
The doors to CES in Las Vegas, a city that wakes up around noon, open at 10am. So Stephanie and I are on the grounds around 9.30am, let security look in our backpacks and go through the metal detector. Yes, that's a snap hook on my trousers. No, I can't leave it here. I need it. Our equipment is a mixture of technology and hiking clothing and boots.
Behind us are Chinese men in suits, in front of us a deliberately youthful-looking Youtuber, aged around late 30s. The security is friendly but firm. A yellow sticker is attached to my rucksack. "Bag checked". Free passage. Special rules apply to journalists when it comes to bags and rucksacks. Businessmen and women - the latter are not particularly numerous - are only allowed to take one suitcase, which must not have wheels. "Otherwise the terrorists will win," I joke. Not really funny.
A look back, the last bit of daylight. Because we will be in the halls, which have no windows, until around 5 pm. The queue at the security checkpoint has become a mass, the drop-off zone for taxis, Lyft and Uber resembles an avalanche of cars. Desperate traffic controllers are still trying to save what can be saved. The heavy, three-metre-high door to Central Hall closes.
Baidu on the left, LG on the right
Galaxus editor Simon Balissat asked us from Zurich to "take a few pictures or maybe even a video" of the LG beer tap.
LG thought that perhaps not everyone would be completely fulfilled if they could only drink capsule coffee. That's why they've developed a tap that brews your beer. Three capsules, five litres of water and in just two weeks you can be tapping freshly fermented beer from the kitchen appliance.
Starting the day with beer doesn't sound bad, does it?
A presentation is currently underway at the stand. It's supposed to look spontaneous, like when two men with dynamic but universally socially compatible styling chat to each other in the kitchen. That's what you do. But the dialogue is bumpy, far removed from natural speech and comes across like a bad teleshopping advert. Stephanie and I notice a man in a suit reading the dialogue on a piece of paper. The master of the script is going to get on our nerves in a few minutes. But we don't know that yet.
After the presentation ends, Asians, Swedes, Israelis and Swiss rush into the model kitchen in LG's stand. Behind the tap stands a chubby American, who would certainly like a beer too, and tells us something about his vending machine.
"Three minutes," says the script master as Stephanie unpacks the camera. He can't or won't give us any more time.
I nod, the script master goes to instruct someone else.
Stephanie presses "Record" on her Sony a7siii, I roughly reproduce what Simon from Zurich has told me and what else the American has added. We missed the teleshopping part of the tap in our search for it.
Stephanie commits a mortal sin
We do exactly one take. I get pushed, Stephanie gets pushed. After a minute or so, it's over. That's all there is to it. The video producer uses the remaining two minutes to shoot close-ups. She quickly asks for permission, gets it and climbs onto the table on which the tap is standing.
The script master doesn't like this.
"She is not allowed on the table," he says.
I reply that that's quite right. Because I like to inform people that our offences against their guidelines are okay. Sometimes they even believe me. But the script master doesn't.
"It breaks the surface," he says.
Yeah no, that's clear. The granite surface of the model kitchen is bound to suffer irreparable damage under the weight of the video producer. I could understand that if I was clambering around on the table with boots and snap hooks on my trousers and more than twice as much weight as her. But Stephanie is petite and wears fabric trousers.
"She must have my permission. Not the master behind the table," says the script master, who is obviously also the table master. In general, he wants to be the master of the whole stand.
"I am the boss here. You need my permission for everything," he says.
Plan B, then, because the master of everything and everyone in this chaos will not be swayed. I play for time, ask strange questions, tease the gentleman in the suit, who probably costs more than my entire outfit put together, and deliberately irritate him.
He doesn't like that. He doesn't like me either. And he certainly doesn't like Stephanie on the table.
I'm suddenly fine with it because Stephanie climbs off the table again, sighs and shouts something at me that I interpret as "it's okay".
I apologise to the LG grandmaster and we disappear into the crowd.
Sorry, Simon, that's all there is to it. And there was no beer either.
You can find all articles about CES 2019 here.
Journalist. Author. Hacker. A storyteller searching for boundaries, secrets and taboos – putting the world to paper. Not because I can but because I can’t not.
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