New products and old style values made Plantworx 2013 a success.
Pardon me for a second while I share with you an analogy that occurred to me while I was walking around Plantworx 2013 for the final time yesterday. It may take me a little while to get there but trust me, I know roughly where I am going.
Construction and demolition equipment exhibitions are like rock bands (no really, stick with me). They start small fuelled by little more than passion and enthusiasm and the help and support of a small handful of loyal fans who see in them something special.
In the beginning, band and fans (and exhibition organisers, exhibitors and visitors) are as one. They share a common belief and mix freely over a post-gig beer or three.
But, over the years, things start to change. The venues get bigger and more expensive; the ability to interact with those loyal supporters begins to suffer; and, sooner or later, they sell out to commercialism, largely abandoning those loyal supporters that were with them from raw and slightly rough-around-the-edges beginning. Think of Joshua Tree-era U2 and compare that to the preening, self-important and egotistic stadium fillers they eventually became.
Latter day SED was Bono.
Plantworx was not the biggest show I have ever seen (a single hall at the mighty Bauma could swallow the entire show whole and still have room for desert) and it wasn’t the best (Whipsnade-era SED will always have a special place in my pea-sized, black heart).
But I can honestly say that Plantworx was by far the most inclusive and engaging exhibition that I have ever had the pleasure to attend. Through the clever use of social media and a co-operative ethos, the exhibition turned exhibitors into willing evangelists that weren’t promoting themselves or a plant show; they were advocating unity. Along the path, the organisers, exhibitors and even the usually cynical press rallied more than 10,000 acolytes that descended on the showground regardless of the mix of rain, hail and sunshine that is the mark of any real plant show.
For that alone, the organisers, the exhibitors and the attendees all deserve considerable credit.
If you didn’t make it to this year’s show, you can try again in 2015, although you could, of course, be attending the exhibition equivalent of that difficult second album.
But if you were among those bold enough to exhibit or attend an unproven show, just remember this:
If Plantworx ever becomes over-commercial and Vegas-era Elvis bloated, you can tell your friends, family and colleagues that you saw the first gig; you saw it before it was tainted by fame, money and success; you saw it when it was good.
