San Sebastian Surfilm Festibal is out of this world, brah.
We’re at a presentation about surfing architecture, and I am sitting next to an architect. Naturally.
His name is Carles. He’s 30 years old, with long blond hair. Black socks. Black Vans. Black shorts. Black shirt. We surfed mushy waves beneath the statue of Jesus earlier in the day. He’s a lot better than me. His girlfriend, Kris, is a designer studying in London, but she’s working at the Pukas shop for the summer. They are a sweet couple. They smile a lot. Carlos said he put his career as an architect on pause due to the economic crisis in Europe. Not many buildings going up these days. Instead, he’s building his apparel brand, Match Boys Collective. He said it’s going well. I’m rooting for him.
I was fading in and out of consciousness during the presentation (I had just arrived to San Sebastian after 27 hours of travel), but I got the gist of it. A curated panel of architects who love surfing explained patterns of development in ocean-based communities. How to do it thoughtfully. How to make surfing part of the fabric of an oceanside town’s identity – providing recreation, tourism, and organization to the flow of the town. Not the type of feature event I’m accustomed to seeing at surf festivals. And it was interesting. Even in a second language.
It set the tone for the rest of San Sebastian’s 13th Annual Surfilm Festibal. Because it is San Sebastian. Thoughtful. Intentional. Culturally rich. Totally surf-stoked. The festival’s organizer, Sancho Rodriguez, is widely adored and quite clearly knows his shit. He, Angela Zozaya, and the small team who run from venue to venue – organizing traditional Basque dinners, dance parties, screenings, talks, signings, lectures, presentations, concerts, surf contests, beach parties, art exhibitions – just about every form of entertainment imaginable – have overwhelmingly succeeded in creating a singular event for the European and international surfing community. And somehow, none of it gets watered down.
Surf dystopia.
Here’s a little taste of the week’s highlights (plus a few random observations I had during my very first trip to San Sebastian:
Watch the Fisherman’s Son. Ten years ago, Ramon Navarro arrived on the North Shore with $100.00 and sold empanadas out of a cooler while crashing at Kohl Christenson’s farm. No one would buy his soggy empanadas. In 2009, Ramon caught one of the biggest paddle-in waves ever at Waimea during the Eddie Aikau Invitational. He has since galvanized a movement in his home country of Chile to protect Punta de Lobos, one of the world’s most perfect waves. His story is remarkable.
Kimi Werner. Just casually doing her thing. Yeah, that’s a Great White.
Kimi Werner is a badass. A US National Champion spearfisherwoman, she gracefully swims on the dorsal fins of Great White sharks, bites squids’ brains to kill them quickly, and studies in the culinary arts. And she performs her superhuman exploits glowing with humility and respect. She’s not an Evel Knievel. More like a female, spearfishin’ Dalai Llama. And her new film, Islands will encourage you to rethink your approach to probably the most important part of your life: food.
Eternal struggles, no?
I’ve never seen a cooler surf art exhibit. We see a LOT of surf art at The Inertia. And we enjoy it in all of its various forms. But this exhibit was unlike any other I’ve seen. Each wall was organized thematically: Utopia vs. Dystopia, Man vs. Nature, Surf Culture and Barbarism. And each artist expressed a very sharp point of view. We’re killing the earth. This is what a machine wave looks like. And the death of a wave after the construction of a jetty. This is a post-apocalyptic surf world. Why do the nations we visit to surf suffer, and we do nothing? San Sebastian’s rich history in the arts enables them to approach surfing with a more critical and thoughtful lens. It’s awesome. The entry point to most every conversation started at a place that advanced the conversation. And, yes, they marveled at the wonder of perfect waves, too, but each exhibit asked a question. Questions are powerful.
If you have a second, check these shorts out: They’re interesting: Dream by Mark Sutherland:
Three Rocks from the Sun by Desillusion, is an ambitious portrait of Dave Rastovich that kept me entertained. And I also enjoyed an oldy but goody in Kong’s Island. It’s cool to see where surf films came from.
Just going for a quick surf…
I love the mix of European culture and surf culture in San Sebastian. This building is directly across from the beach. And if you look closely, that’s a surfer entering his apartment at the bottom of it.
Big wave surfers debated the merits of safety gear – along with their varying motivations for pursuing giant waves. And they really debated. Some supported making safety vests available to the public. Others did not. One surfer went as far as to say: “Mi vida no es mi perro. No es mi mujer. Es surfear big waves.” Shit got real.
I got to test drive the Wavegarden while at the festival. It was awesome.
“Surfing is dead. Surfers killed surfing.” Felip Verger, editor of 3Sesenta Magazine told me this during a drive to check out the Wavegarden, located just thirty minutes from San Sebastian. What a thought. His point was that our enthusiasm for surfing has contributed to overcrowding in lineups worldwide through a variety of means (we’re not helping with that…), and has created a need for solutions like the Wavegarden. Never thought of it like that. More to come later on the Wavegarden, a wildly unlikely invention from the Spanish countryside.
Jed Smith putting together some pirate radio! Me, one of the dudes from Waxhead, Chris Malloy, first row: Kyle Thiermann and Jed Smith. (L to R)
When a bunch of surfers get together, shit-talking ensues. This is obvious. And fun. The ever-wily Jed Smith invited me and Kyle Thiermann to guest host his most recent radio show Ain’t That Swell, and in the process, Chris Malloy dropped by and shared a few opinions of his own. Apparently, he’s pro-Spiccolli and anti-Surfing in the Olympics. Check out the full show when it drops. Hopefully it’s half as much fun to listen to as it was to make.
I like that you can buy ham everywhere. That’s a good quality. I also like that they hang the cured legs of pigs in their restaurants. I’ve eaten bacon all of my life. Never once had I seen where it really comes from – beyond a cartoon of a pig. In restaurants in Spain and Basque Country, they shave meat off the leg of the pig in front of you, and suddenly it makes total sense. It feels more natural. I appreciate it.
If you’ll be in Europe next summer, and you want to experience a unique slice of surf culture, put Surfilm Festibal on your list. It’s a gift to surfing.
