The Film
“Are you stoked?!?” he yells expectantly into the microphone.
“YEEEAAAHHH!!!” we immediately respond.
Let’s go.
ADVENTURE ART CLUB | DAY 29 | 9.29
“ACTUALLY, IT IS ROCKET SCIENCE”
TGR FILM PREMIERE AT THE WILMA
MISSOULA, MONTANA
I’ve often struggled to communicate the collective experience of a ski film premiere to anyone who has not witnessed this magic. For those with no interest in extreme sports or skiing, it can be hard to conceptualize why so many people would want to see someone else travel to far away winter playgrounds and throw themselves off of cliff faces.
What’s the point?
My (now) husband introduced me to ski films back in college. For one of our first dates, we attended a Warren Miller ski movie premiere at a historic theater in Bozeman, Montana. Having had no exposure to this world prior, stepping into the culture of ski films was like stepping into another universe. Music set the mood. Crowds of people in line for the movie were buoyant, laughing, exuberant, and silly. They wore funny outfits or full ski apparel - some wearing boots and all! The lobby of the theater was packed with tables from all sorts of vendors, ranging from luxury resorts to local nonprofits, each one offering ski weekends, product giveaways, avalanche safety information, and more. Stickers fluttered through the lobby like snowflakes on the breeze. Free.
I didn’t know what to expect from the movie, but as the lights faded and the first images lit the theater, I was hooked. Spines of snow on unimaginably tall mountains in Alaska rose before us. The folly and courage of a tiny ant skier making joyful turns through the snow on the very knife’s edge of life and death - a “no fall zone” - gripped the crowd’s attention. All this risk and effort…for what, exactly? The simple JOY of being alive. That’s it.
From here, there was no turning back for me.
Through this and other films, I fell in love with the imagery and culture around skiing. At the same time, I started to learn how to ski (middle school field trips with a bunch of kids to Bridger Bowl don’t count). Learning to ski as an adult means I’m not a very good skier, though I’d like to be someday. I have quite a bit of imposter syndrome about this, living where I do. However, even when I feel I’m not “cool enough” or “skilled enough” or when fear gets the best of me that day, I wouldn’t trade the joy and beauty I find in these wintery mountain landscapes.
As I learned to ski with Jordan, I also started to draw ski and snow art pieces. That one ski film Jordan happened to bring me to cracked open a great love within me, like a deep, blue chasm in an ancient glacier. That moment led to the creation of countless art pieces over the years - all dedicated to the thrill of adventure, the very essence of a life lived joyfully. It led to Alpine Line Art, my business, though I didn’t know that at the time.
All these years later, at The Wilma theater in Missoula, tonight I’m attending a premiere of the latest ski film by Teton Gravity Research (an action sports film production company and lifestyle brand based in Jackson Hole, WY). The movie is called “Actually, It IS rocket science…”, which not-so-subtly points viewers back to the “research” part of the “gravity research” name. (Que images of goofy skiers in (very accurate) scientist outfits using rulers to measure snow throughout this film).
There’s a great deal of humor in the ski film industry. They’re not afraid to laugh at themselves and lean into fun. I admire that. The trailer for “Drop Everything”, a ski film created by Matchstick Productions (another action sports media company), illustrates this tongue-in-cheek humor perfectly... Look it up if you haven’t seen it!
Each production company usually makes one film for each ski season. Athletes film segments the previous Winter, and films are released in the Fall, leading up to the opening days of ski slopes around the country. The films go on tour, premiering in different cities, to build excitement around Winter sports.
I used to hate Winters. Then I found skiing.
Having something to love in life’s harshest seasons makes all the difference.
Why ski? Why do we do any of these outdoor activities? Why do we throw ourselves down mountains, whether that be on skis, bikes, or our own two feet? Why do we put ourselves at risk, over and over, by recreating in wild places?
For the LOVE OF IT.
The audacity of seeking out of joy for joy’s sake is the very essence of life itself.
This idea compels me to create.
Much of my creative practice is wrapped up in the meaning and metaphor I’ve found in the mountains and in ski films:
The struggle, work, and planning we endure to achieve something fleeting and ephemeral (yet utterly legendary). The calm that comes, paradoxically, in the heart of movement itself. The conversation between a lone figure and the land around them. The fragility of a human body transcending itself to achieve incredible feats. Courage overriding fear. Spirit overriding matter. A solitary experience shared, enjoyed, and related to by so many, becoming universal. The combination of the micro and the macro. The light and dark of tragedy and jubilation shared moments apart. Exploring these coexisting contrasts is what led me to create Alpine Line Art.
All these years later (to return to the moment at hand), I’m enjoying a craft beer seated next to my husband close to the stage and about to feast my eyes on beauty, art, adventure, and thrill on the screen. A full row of young kids fill the seats directly in front of me, simply giddy with excitement for the film to begin. The event organizers make a few announcements, award some sponsored giveaways at random, and toss some free t-shirts, hats, and stickers into the crowd, all to resounding cheers. Joy abounds.
Live shows and film premieres are dynamic events that bring us together in collective experience. We wince, as a group, as a skier tumbles down a mountain slope unexpectedly. We cheer as they throw a massive backflip into thin air. We giggle at a playful interview. We sigh at the sight of a beautiful line. Whoops and yells are allowed here. You can’t get that experience viewing alone.
Ski films represent a beautiful intersection between nature, individual experience, collective response, storytelling, creating art, and sharing with others. I can’t help but draw some parallels between ski films and this month’s adventure art project of experiencing and creating in nature, reflecting on the experience, creating art, writing, and sharing what I love, openly..
Ski films also advocate for the protection of what we love. Winter, around the world, is disappearing. The joy we find on mountain slopes is rapidly becoming a precious commodity. Global warming threatens everything. The land. The creatures who live there. The food supply. Our water. The snow. Joyful experiences outdoors. (Politicians and corporate interests threaten the rest.) These experiences and places won’t last without our collective efforts to protect them. Ski films raise awareness, with joy at the center of the effort.
All that aside, here for one evening, I settle into my seat, heart lit, as I take in the latest ski film with the person who taught me to love them, in the heart of the state of Montana. I’m stoked.
Love & Gratitude,
Christina
