INNOVATION
agnussen Home Furnishings Inc. had a 12-million-square-foot problem that no amount of Lemon Pledge could polish away. When the 75-year-old New Hamburg, Ontario,-based furniture maker prepared to exhibit its latest product lines at the International Home Furnishings Market’s biannual show, it was competing against more rivals than you could shake an end table at. But the 2,200 other exhibitors weren’t the problem. The fact that they were spread like a giant area rug over 12-million square feet in 188 different buildings was. How could Magnussen possibly guarantee the show’s 75,000 attendees would include its exhibit on their to-do lists with so much mileage to cover? For Magnussen, the answer for the April 2005 show was simple: penguins. Tigers, Smoothies, and Chinese Acrobats You’re probably asking yourself what web-footed wingless birds have to do with home décor. The answer? Absolutely nothing. Over the last few years, Magnussen has established a tradition of disconnected themes with only one thing in common — none of them have anything to do with furniture. The result: Magnussen packs customers in like an IKEA grand opening. Magnussen’s top-this series of themes was born of necessity, beginning with the fall show in October 2001, just days after September 11. Customers were too frightened to travel, and show attendance plummeted. To counter the decline in attendees, Magnussen shipped in two tiger cubs from South Carolina and allowed attendees to pose for pictures with them. The simple aren’t-they-adorable promotion helped Magnussen maintain the previous year’s booth traffic, while show attendance plummeted at least 30 percent. The October show also marked the debut of another occasional company tradition, stuffed- animal giveaways, with tigers the giftaway du jour. With a new tradition in place, the theme for April 2002 was “Oasis,” which made a huge splash with a spa theme. Massage therapists kneaded attendees’ aching muscles while electric massage chairs and foot massagers caressed other sore parts. Smoothies and health foods like trail mix and fresh fruit rounded out Magnussen’s now-standard non-furniture theme. Attendees didn’t receive an animal giveaway with this theme, but attendance was haven enough, rising approximately 10 percent. In October 2003, the company conjured up the “Magic of Magnussen.” Two alternating magicians in the lobby area leading into the booth worked their magic. Meanwhile, Magnussen staff handed out decks of playing cards in which every card had a different photo of one of its products, and a stuffed bunny popping out of a black hat. There was no hocus-pocus about the results: another approximate 10-percent increase in attendance. Magnussen used “Star Power Unleashed” (referring to the power of its licensees as its stars), as the concept in the October 2004 show: A troupe of four Chinese acrobats balanced and juggled tables, dressers, and beds. Besides the table-tossing talent, it hired a caricaturist who used digital software to draw customers’ exaggerated likenesses on an overhead screen that could be seen across the show floor, and then printed them out and gave them away. The results were anything but cartoonish: the now-standard approximate 10-percent jump in attendees. Magnussen’s marketing department free-associated its way to the April 2005 show theme. Launching a new Art Deco-style furniture collection from designer Cristina Ferrare called Sunset Boulevard, Magnussen kicked off its idea palooza with a bright shiny thought: Why not bring in a priceless, big-name jewelry collection, like the Hope Diamond? “Unfortunately the women in the company were a lot more excited about it than the men,” says Trisha McBride, Magnussen’s director of marketing, “and we have a lot more men than women in our customer base.” The notion of exhibiting the 45.52-carat bauble once owned by kings of France was cut, but the concept of playing off Jazz Age opulence stayed. The era of F. Scott Fitzgerald and swellegant black-and-white Art Deco design generated the show’s motif of Irving Berlin’s “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” the 1929 tune that sang of “High hats and narrow collars/White spats and lots of dollars.” To Magnussen, Art Deco meant a big band, which of course also meant ballroom dancers, which bounced, in the nonlinear way that brainstorming sessions do, to the ebony-and-ivory-colored penguins, which naturally look as if they’re wearing tuxedos on their pear-shaped bodies. continue article		Puttin' on the Ritz Magnussen mixed images of Jazz Age elegance with whimsical penguins in its pre-show mailer.
Magnussen craftsmen constructed the habitat for the penguins. A band playing Jazz Age standards and ballroom dancers entertained onlookers. The birds were displayed for school children at the Natural Science Center in Greensboro, NC.		The penguins, which were shipped in from California, were an attendee-magnet. Attendees dipped candy and fruit in a milk-chocolate fountain. Magnussen hired teenagers to walk the exhibit hall in penguin outfits.
All male staff members worked the floor in tuxedos, and all female staffers wore white blouses and black slacks or skirts.
March of the Penguins The penguin theme was flexible enough for Magnussen to use in a variety of ways in its 35,000-square-foot booth, as well as the 10-million square feet of the International Home Furnishings Center, where it was located, and the 12-million square feet of overall exhibit space. First, pre-show invitations depicting a couple in formal dress led by a pack of penguins were e-mailed to 17,708 customers. Exactly 4,267 opened them, a 24-percent return well above the industry average of 16.7 percent. Then, to help cover a total exhibiting area the equivalent of 250 football fields, Magnussen hired three teen-agers to waddle three to five miles per day in the exhibit hall, in front of the convention center, and up nearby streets in penguin outfits with the Magnussen logo sewn on the back. To keep the theme from getting crowded out by the exhibit’s 30 to 40 groups of occasional tables, 15 to 20 groups of bedroom and dining-room furniture sets, 250 accent pieces, and licensed collections (such as Cristina Ferrare’s), each with 30 to 50 pieces of furniture, the 25 male staff members worked the floor in tuxedos, and 20 female staffers donned white blouses with the company logo and black slacks or skirts. A milk-chocolate fountain gushed what Magnussen felt conveyed 1920s luxury, with pretzels, marshmallows, fruit, and cookies for dipping. From 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. in the 1,000-square-foot lobby, a local eight-piece band serenaded customers with tunes of the era (the jaunty notes could be heard well across the show floor, of course) for 10 to 15 minutes at the top of every hour, while two pairs of professional ballroom dancers in black-and-white tuxes and evening gowns glided through the exhibit’s lobby and hallways. But the penguins were the real drawing power. The company arranged for two trainers from Birds and Animals Unlimited, an Irvine, CA,-based firm that provides animals to the TV and movie industry, to fly in four African penguins in small dog carriers. Magnussen’s own craftsmen built an eye-level 10-by-10-foot temporary habitat in the exhibit’s lobby, which was easier than expected to put together. The birds weren’t the Chilly Willy kind of penguins. Their native habitat was South Africa, not the Arctic, which meant they were comfortable at room temperature. Magnussen snowballed the theme with cookies cut in the shape of penguins, a giveaway commemorative poster featuring the penguins, and a penguin-heavy five-to-seven minute multimedia flash presentation on DVD, which its sales team used to pitch clients. Interspersed with music from the 30s, black-and-white period footage, photos of Art Deco buildings, and footage of the penguins, were photos of Magnussen’s new products. Doing Well by Doing Good Magnussen made what McBride calls “a sizeable donation” to the Southern African Foundation for the Conservation of Coastal Birds (SANCCOB) and set out a collection box for the Cape Town, South Africa, nonprofit, reaping about $500 for the organization. Magnussen displayed the penguins for several thousand visitors for four days. On the fifth, it transported the birds to the Natural Science Center in Greensboro, NC, where the Center displayed them for visiting classes of school children. The charitable acts resulted in free advertising in the form of local TV and newspaper coverage for Magnussen. Magnussen’s goal for each show is simply to increase the attendance over the prior show. Costing the company $200,000 overall (the bill for the penguins — including trainers, building the exhibit, and shipping and handling — came to about $40,000), its exhibit received press coverage featuring the penguins in all the local newspapers, several trade publications, and on the area evening news. More than that, the April show attracted 3,200 visitors, a 20-percent jump over the previous exhibition (and about twice the usual increase) though the show’s attendance dropped 10 percent. Penguins may not fly, but these results soared. The Magnussen non-furniture theme continued at the October 2005 show with a holiday theme, a stuffed reindeer giveaway — and a jolly 10-percent jump in attendance.
Timeline of a Tradition Magnussen Home Furnishings Inc. took the unusual step of designing exhibit themes that are as different from furniture as a Chippendale chair is from a Chippendale dancer. No idea, no matter how unusual, is off the hardwood table. Starting in 2001, the company initiated a tradition of non-furniture motifs, along with the occasional tradition of stuffed-animal giveaways. The results are as steady as a Shaker table: a regular approximate 10-percent increase in attendance over the previous shows.
Charles Pappas, staff writer