In this illuminating EdTech Mentor conversation, Marcela Márquez, Creative Operations Director at 27zero, delves into the complex world of creativity, technology, and the evolving role of artificial intelligence in the creative process. Marcela shares her journey from a traditional, analog art background to embracing cutting-edge tools like generative AI, offering a unique perspective on how technology can enhance creativity rather than replace it. She also offers a candid look at the challenges of managing diverse creative teams in different countries, and the importance of empathy and communication in achieving success. Let's dive in!
Throughout my life, art and creativity have been the driving forces that have guided my journey. It's how I truly relate to my life—it's where I find peace, tranquility, and expression. I've never felt comfortable in environments where I can't express my ideas from a different perspective. I think I've been aware of this for some time, but it has always come naturally to me. I studied photography in Argentina as a professional career. However, before that, I studied Visual Arts for four years in Colombia. During that time, I realized that I wasn't destined to be a renowned artist, but I did gain the tools to concretize ideas. My studies have allowed me to do that. For example, I may not be a great draftsman, though I would have liked to be, but through drawing, I can express and shape my ideas. What I learned in photography, the ability to think through images before creating them, now allows me to apply those skills to my current work.
Curiosity is innate in me, and I believe it's what has allowed me to explore various areas of art and knowledge to extract what nourishes me most. It's not about what's best—because who can define that?—but if I have a conversation with a doctor talking about biotechnology for foot transplants, for instance, I don't yet fully understand how my mind processes it, but that information stays with me. And at some point, I'll be able to connect it with something else. I think this ability has strengthened over time, but it's something that has always been a part of me. Lately, though, I've managed to turn it into a method.
I believe that while the concept of beauty is subjective, when you manage to convey an aesthetic code that someone else can connect with, it becomes a channel through which the message can be more easily received. Through aesthetics, through feeling comfortable when seeing something—whether it's because of color, shape, composition, or visual communication—I see it as a tool that allows us to have a conversation without words and deliver our message.
Right now, I'm in Europe, and although I can communicate in Spanish and English to some extent, I've been in countries where I don't understand a thing—not a single word. I was in the Netherlands, and I don't understand Dutch at all, and the same goes for German. It's been interesting to experience how the stimuli I receive in life nourish my creativity. That's one of my strengths. All these visual stimuli have allowed me to communicate beyond language, beyond words. If I see an icon or a color, and the person on the other side may not be from my culture or speak my language, I can still communicate through images and shapes. This is relevant because it's what I do every day in my work—trying to find visual codes that convey a message without needing words. If that message is enhanced by what I consider beautiful—a shared code of beauty between you and me—then I believe communication works. And that's why the work I do in marketing is effective.
The first exercise, which I believe is really important and that I've learned with time, is understanding that nothing is personal and that the vision of aesthetics and beauty is completely subjective. Keeping that in mind—maybe this is what separates me from what I consider an artist and what I consider my creative work—because I work for others. When you don't take things personally, you become more flexible in your vision.
Moreover, since I'm not creating for myself—my ideas are not for me, but for someone else—you have to listen to that other person. That client may have a completely different aesthetic perspective than mine, without judgment, just different. I believe I'm fortunate to have a great deal of empathy, which allows me to understand the client's tastes. It's a matter of sensitivity, of listening, observing, navigating what the client is expressing, and going beyond the obvious.
When I realized I didn't need to take things personally—it was a difficult lesson to learn, and it came from my personal projects—it wasn't because I was born incredibly intelligent and empathetic. It's about understanding who I'm working for. If I'm working for myself, it's a different story. But if I'm working for someone in another country, who speaks another language, with a different context, I also have to remember that we're not just working for this client; we're working for the client of our client. There are layers to it. And if I'm more sensitive about it, I realize I'm not even working for the client of my client—I'm working for my bosses, which is also important. In this case, the work I do needs to align with an EdTech marketing agency's goals. For instance, if I start incorporating Vallenato music for a client in Canada, Marcela is not being objective. So, my first filter is my work. From there, I have a series of filters I need to consider to ensure coherence.
I'll refer back to my characteristic of empathy, which I believe is crucial. Without it, it would be very difficult for me to communicate with all the stakeholders involved in a project, whether large or small. Fortunately, I work with very powerful teams, even if they are diverse. What I've learned is that it's important to reconcile different working styles. Creativity is often thought of as a muse that dances and suddenly brings an idea. But that's a myth, because the only way to have an idea is to work on it, refine it, work on it some more, refine it again, discuss it, and get feedback from your colleagues. It's like assembling a Lego structure where everyone has different pieces, and we keep adding, building together. One crucial aspect is the ability to calmly discuss and ask questions. Another is knowledge. Fortunately, my level of involvement in the projects I lead is very high. For example, in the Antología project, I made sure I understood the areas of universities involved in the decision-making process regarding an LMS purchase. I might not know every detail, but I immerse myself in the project enough to be able to talk to the developer, review a one-pager and suggest better ways to organize the information, or think about a script for a 30-second commercial because I have the necessary knowledge. I can then clearly communicate this understanding to the people I'm working with. So, whether it's a designer, I have the ability to articulate in a way that they understand, or an audiovisual producer, I can communicate based on their temperament. For example, I might say, "I want this to communicate abundance, not poverty." These two strengths—empathy and clear communication—allow me to work effectively with creative teams.
Now, regarding the time aspect, which was the first thing you asked, I think it's ideal to maintain good communication and stick to a solid schedule, a good timeline. I studied at the University of Palermo in Buenos Aires, and they required us to submit a very clear document for every photographic project, with guidelines, objectives, and idea development. I got used to always having a document. You can debate with that document all you want, but nowadays it gives me structure and a method to understand and approach certain projects.
Over time, I developed a method. It involves a presentation where I provide all the necessary information. In the most successful cases, I've had multiple meetings for explanation and feedback on the work we're doing, and I'm very present at every stage. That's how I work with the creator responsible for the piece or deliverable. My part of the job is to learn enough about what we're discussing. Typically, I have a brief or a written document, an interview, and this is more intuitive, but from there, it's easier for me to find phrases between the lines that I can translate into images—images that can be drawn or sketched. If I can take a phrase and turn it into a stick-figure sketch, then that's a phrase that works for explaining my idea. Additionally, I use references—movies, works of art, Pinterest, Behance, videos, music, even what I see on the streets or during my vacations, because I never stop feeding off the information around me.
Last night, to celebrate my birthday here in Barcelona, they held an outdoor cinema event at Montjuic Park, and we went to see Billy Elliot. It's a classic English film, and there's a scene where the boy, Billy, arrives at an interview panel to see if he can get into ballet school. They ask him questions, and he keeps responding, "I don't know, I don't know." And that's it—he leaves. But one of the teachers calls after him, saying, "Billy, what do you feel when you dance?" He pauses, thinks, and then says, "I don't know, but..." and begins to describe his feelings until he finally says, "I feel electricity," and smiles before leaving. Of course, he gets into the school. That's how it is for me. I can't always explain the method, but when you asked, my response was, "I don't know," but there comes a moment when an idea from my daily life clicks, and I can explain it in that way.
It's like when you're on Behance or Pinterest, or going through your information libraries, and you see something that leads you to another thing, and that thing leads you to another, and so on. I take notes, have a notebook full of annotations, and take a lot of screenshots. Those screenshots are very useful because I place them on a mood board. When I see those reference images together, I can start connecting ideas more easily. The more references I look at, the easier it is to create connections and visual relationships to generate better ideas. For instance, when working on the brief for Atomi Jolt, we needed a specific graphic style, something done by a particular illustrator with a unique style. But how do we make it fit what we want? When I put various elements on a big board, I start drawing connections—like those red strings you see in crime shows. These paths and connections help me generate better ideas. Curiosity as a method leads to very good ideas.
More recently at 27zero, and I assume in many other agencies as well, we've seen the advantages of generative artificial intelligence, especially for creativity iteration. How have you approached this and how has your journey been to reach the point where we are today?
When I started hearing more frequently about artificial intelligence and saw these experiments of all kinds—deepfakes, generated images, etc.—I initially felt some resistance. After all, I belong to a special generation—a transition generation. In my career, I went from developing black-and-white and color photos to learning digital photography within six months, and shortly after that, analog courses were removed altogether. So, I've experienced both worlds, which I feel gives me a significant advantage as a creator. At first, AI generated resistance in me. However, I had the opportunity to take a very comprehensive introductory course. What struck me was that they kept saying, "This will be different tomorrow, this will be different tomorrow, this will be different tomorrow, this will be better." That made me realize that if I didn't stay updated—and we're talking about January or February of 2024—I would miss out on many opportunities. By "staying updated," I mean understanding generative artificial intelligence as a tool, just like when Photoshop first appeared or when Illustrator replaced Corel Draw. It's that simple. If I don't stay on top of understanding these tools as tools, and not as monsters that will devour me, then I'm done as a creator.
Moreover, it has expanded my creative spectrum significantly. I used to hide behind "I can't do this," but now AI is enhancing my work. The "I can't do this" mindset no longer exists. Now, I say, "I can do it; let's improve it with people who can do it better," but in the meantime, my deliverables are visually aesthetic, functional, and retain the authenticity of my work. It's wonderful to feel that I can create an illustration with specific colors, textures, angles, and perspectives that used to take me five, six, or seven days to complete; now I can do it in a day, drawing inspiration and references from various sources.
Because the people behind it are delegating creativity to the tool. I definitely believe that we, as human beings, are the ones who make the difference in creating pieces with artificial intelligence. If there isn't someone thinking, making connections—like I mentioned earlier—someone who's living and experiencing the world from different perspectives and bringing ideas into the mix, you won't create anything unique.
It's about discernment, which is what allows us, as creators or workers, to make subtle decisions that set us apart from other types of creators. Let me give you an analog example: it's not the same to have your dream bakery's logo made by someone who works in a stationery store—who is stressed all day, printing and making photocopies—as it is to commission an exclusive design from someone you meet with, someone you have conversations with. It's that simple. This designer has a sense of discernment, a background, experience, and the ability to guide you and say, "Let's go in this direction." They can even say to the client, "I know you like yellow flowers, but maybe thorns would be better for your bakery." As professionals, we have the ability to guide and accompany our clients.
It's also important to mention the good fortune of having a good client. And what do I mean by a good client? A client who listens, who is open to guidance, who doesn't want to impose for the sake of it, who collaborates with you, who might not know exactly what they want but is open to having a conversation, to building something together, to giving you constructive feedback rather than crushing you. A good client works with you. And a successful marketing project happens when a creative EdTech marketing agency and an open-minded client come together to create something like Antología, for example.
I have to constantly search for creative talent, for people who can produce work. My process starts with trust—trust in my own discernment, which I've been developing and refining over the years. It's about trusting that instinct, looking at a portfolio and saying, "There's something here; how can we work with it?" It's about talking to the creative, asking them what they like, what music they listen to, what movies they watch. Because that creative person is the one who will generate an image—whether it's a video, a print ad, or anything else—that will communicate your work to your clients. So, that person needs to be deeply connected to their creation. Usually, whether something is beautiful or trendy comes naturally.
But what wouldn't I choose? Someone who does things just because they're trendy. For example, if the trend is to make TikTok images and jokes on TikTok, why would we choose someone who sells you a TikTok campaign when what you're selling is data analysis? But if they can give you a reason, like "I've seen on TikTok that there are 350,000 people who connect with this, this, and this," then they're speaking from experience, not just following a trend. And then, it's crucial to have good communication with your creative, because without good communication, the relationship will quickly fall apart. That's what I would say—communication and trusting that what you're seeing is genuine and has real value.
