Note by Mark Pytlik

I first met Ben in June of 2011. I was working for a digital production company called Stink Studios, and he was half of one of the most buzzed-about and ascendant creative duos at Wieden & Kennedy New York. Wieden had engaged us on a small project, and after a few months of working together, our conversation quickly turned to whether Ben might like to work with us at Stink. He loved coming up with the ideas, he told me, but ultimately he wanted to be closer to production. He wanted to be making things.

We had a few lunches, traded notes, and talked a lot in subsequent emails about our philosophies around the work. I liked him immediately. He was a polymath, but not in a showy way. Although we didn't end up working together, I made it a point to keep Ben in my orbit. He was so astute, so culturally aware, so engaged. I was new to New York, and I remember thinking how badly I wanted to be his friend.



We got closer over the years. Ben would come work in our office. We’d collaborate on a few projects. We’d have lunch, share work stories, goof around, get beers. Every so often we’d dance around the idea of possibly working together, but the timings and circumstances never fully lined up. Finally, after years of quasi-professional email chains that invariably disintegrated into two dummies trying to make each other laugh, Stink landed a long-term engagement with Spotify that seemed like it would finally allow us to bring Ben onboard.

I sent him a note: “You’re definitely, definitely not looking for a new role, right? Not even for a prominent music client?” He responded: “I’m 90% sure. But that means I’m 25% not sure. Because, as I said, I’m 70% sure. But there’s a small part of me (let’s call it 40%), that might be willing to drop everything for a prominent music client. So, yes, definitely 55% sure. Definitely. Uh, beers?”



Having Ben on our team was even better than I thought it would be. It was a privilege to be represented by somebody so articulate, so thoughtful, so principled, so incredibly wise and likable. He moved fluidly between the worlds of film, technology, and design with alarming ease and credibility. A lot of our staff was young, so Ben became a mentor figure, even though he was practically a kid himself. He did it all, and not only did he make it look easy, he made it look fun. That was Ben.  

In time, I moved on, Ben went to Squarespace, and then I moved to the other coast, but we still stayed in touch. I watched his career explode, then I watched him gradually bring a bunch of amazing Stink people over to Squarespace, and the whole time I felt nothing but pride. In advertising, you can be talented, nice, and successful, but the catch is that most people only get to pick two. Ben was all three, and he deserved every accolade and every win that came his way.

After I moved, I made a point of trying to see him whenever I was in town. We’d always grab a drink but it never felt like enough time. Looking back now, that’s how I feel about every interaction I ever had with Ben. None of it was enough. There are so many conversations we didn’t have, so much I didn’t get a chance to learn. I miss him terribly, and yet I still feel so incredibly lucky to have been his friend. I don’t think I’m ever going to know another person like him.

— Mark Pytlik