Leanne Amann, a group creative director at the New York office of Anomaly and an advertising creative with an ear for integrating music and sound into her work, has been named chairperson of the 2023 AMP Awards for Music & Sound. Amann will preside over the presentation of the AMP Awards, set to take place on May 22 at Sony Hall in New York.
The deadline for submitting entries is March 5. For full details on entering, along with fees, category descriptions and rules, click here.
As Show chair, Amann will be tasked with helping assemble the AMP Awards Curatorial Committee, which will review the finalists in each category to ensure that they meet the competition’s criteria. She’ll also lead the committee’s deliberations, which results in the naming of one category winner as the Ryan Barkan Best in Show honoree.
A Texas native and graduate of the ad school at UT/Austin, Amann has spent most of her advertising career on the East and West Coasts. She was the lead creative on the 2022 AMP Awards Best in Show winner, “Keep Walking,” for Johnnie Walker, with music and sound created by Heavy Duty Projects. In addition to her current position at Anomaly, she’s also been on staff as a writer at Saatchi & Saatchi and JWT, both in New York, and has freelanced at such agencies as 180LA, Goodness Manufacturing and Butler Shine Stern & Partners. The list of brands she’s worked on includes Tanqueray, YouTube, YouTube Music, U by Kotex, MINI, Fruit Snacks and Miller Lite.
“Leanne represents a new generation of advertising creative leaders who are deeply in tune with music and sound and understand innately how it can impact the emotive quality of a piece of brand content,” said Carol Dunn, National Board president for the Association of Music Producers and executive producer for Human Worldwide. “The AMP Awards Committee was unanimous in their choice of her for our 2023 Show chair, and we look forward to working with the Curatorial Committee she’ll assemble to be the final arbiter of our winners.”
“Music has always been a passion for me,” Amann said, noting that she inherited much of her love of music from her father, who took her to a music store and to buy her first bass, guitar and amplifier when she expressed a desire to join her brother’s high school punk band. Her reaction to being named AMP Awards chair, she noted, brought about a mix of emotions: “I was humbled by it,” she said. “I’m normally not someone who cares all that much about winning awards, but to be associated with a show that’s all about music and sound is an honor. And it makes me think of my dad, because so much of my passion for music stems from him.”
Amann sees music and sound as a key element in creating work that stands out. “They’re powerful tools to communicate something in a way in which you’re not talking to somebody or at somebody but with somebody,” she observed. “Of all the things we have at our disposal, music and sound work on a visceral level–they conjure memories, emotions and deep gut reactions.
“Over the past few years I’ve been lucky enough to work on global projects, and many of these can’t rely on the English language, or heavy voiceover manifestos” she continued. “Music goes a long way to solve that. It’s a universal language, and always has been. We talk a lot about calls to action in advertising, but you can call people to action without using a word with music and sound.”
And being tapped to lead the curatorial process for a competition that digs deep into the role of music and sound is something she finds genuinely appealing. “In general, so much of the craft that goes into making something excellent gets attributed to a director or an agency, and as a result it isn’t talked about as much as it should be, or celebrated the way it should,” Amman said.
“A piece of music or sound design can defy your expectations and work on a sensory level, and I look at it the same way I look at cinematography, editing, direction or even concept,” she continued. “They all work together to achieve something great. So the more we talk about and recognize what makes it great, the more we can make things that are exciting and powerful.”
The AMP Awards, now in its 10th year, are open to music and sound design created or sourced for commercial release and commissioned by a client for TV, theater, the web, mobile devices or other media able to deliver in the moving image.
The only juried, non-profit advertising competition to focus on the unique contributions made to the industry by creators and producers of music and sound, the AMP Awards are judged by agency, label, publishing and music production professionals. Its Best in Show honor, named for the late music supervisor Ryan Barkan, will be selected by its Curatorial Committee, from among the top category winners.
Review: Director-Writer Megan Park’s “My Old Ass”
They say tripping on psychedelic mushrooms triggers hallucinations, anxiety, paranoia and nervousness. In the case of Elliott, an 18-year-old restless Canadian, they prompt a visitor.
"Dude, I'm you," says the guest, as she nonchalantly burns a 'smores on a campfire next to a very high and stunned Elliott. "Well, I'm a 39-year-old you. What's up?"
What's up, indeed: Director-writer Megan Park has crafted a wistful coming-of-age tale using this comedic device for "My Old Ass" and the results are uneven even though she nails the landing.
After the older Elliott proves who she is — they share a particular scar, childhood memories and a smaller left boob — the time-travel advice begins: Be nice to your brothers and mom, and stay away from a guy named Chad.
"Can we hug?" asks the older Elliott. They do. "This is so weird," says the younger Elliott, who then makes things even weirder when she asks for a kiss — to know what it's like kissing yourself. The older Elliott soon puts her number into the younger's phone under the name "My Old Ass." Then they keep in touch, long after the effects of the 'shrooms have gone.
Part of the movie's problem that can't be ignored is that the two Elliotts look nothing alike. Maisy Stella plays the coltish young version and a wry Aubrey Plaza the older. Both turn in fine performances but the visuals are slowly grating.
The arrival of the older Elliott coincides with her younger self counting down the days until she can flee from her small town of 300 in the Muskoka Lakes region to college in Toronto, where "my life is about to start." She's sick of life on a cranberry farm.
Park's scenes and dialogue are unrushed and honest as Elliott takes her older self's advice and tries to repair... Read More