A 30th anniversary is no joke: whether it's a happy marriage
or simply surviving the often cruel business world for three decades, a
celebration is obviously in order. But rather then a round of embarrassing
speeches and a slice of ice-cream cake, Westbeach opted for a classier option
when it hit the three-decade mark: commission Canadian photographer Dano
Pendygrasse to assemble a commemorative book.
Out West: Snowboarding,
Westbeach and a New Canadian Dream is the result. The 120-page soft-cover
documents not just Westbeach's chapter in Canadian snowboard history, but
documents Canadian snowboard history period.
As Dano himself explains, "the goal was to talk about Westbeach's role in the
growth of snowboarding, and they were smart enough not to put any limits on
what I could cover in the process of doing so." The result is an often
exhaustive look into snowboarding's Canadian roots and pivotal moments, and
sometimes (but not always) connecting Westbeach to those moments.
Sean Coggins (designer) and Dano working at the Westbeach office a year ago.
Consider this: Westbeach founder Chip Wilson (who went on to launch the
massively successful Lululemon brand and shops) sold his first piece of
clothing, a pair of shorts, in Calgary in 1979. By the time his fledgling
business morphed in Westbeach in 1987, it was not only Canada's first real
snowboard outerwear company, but arguably the first in the world. The list of
influential Canadians who rode for Westbeach at one time is massive. And where
would the entire snowboard contest scene be today without the multi-faceted
mayhem that was the Westbeach Classic?
As a long-time rider and snowboard writer/editor, I felt honoured to
contribute some text to Out West,
specifically about the Eastern Canada scene back in the early days. But the
entire project fell onto Dano's shoulders, and there's no doubt it'll take a
few massage sessions to work out the deep knots he earned putting this project
together. With Out West now available
to the public, and some well-deserved distance between himself and the creation
of the book, I queried Dano about his overall experience and what he thinks of
the finished product.
What was your first
thought when you held a printed copy of Out
West for the very first time?
Well, it was the culmination of a lot of research and a lot of work
between a lot of people, so I found it really gratifying. It turned out very
much the way I had hoped, so I was relieved. It gave me the same sort of
feeling I used to get when we got an early copy of the magazine back, knowing
that it was finished and that the world was about to see it. I think people are
surprised when they see it because they're expecting some big hardcover coffee
table book, but that's not at all what we wanted. The working title for me was
"A guidebook to Canadian Snowboarding," and I always wanted it to be
densely packed with info and photos, but portable enough that you can throw it
in a laptop bag when you're going to work or heading away for the weekend. In
that respect, it's perfect.
The finished product.
What about now that you've
some time to absorb it and look at with better perspective?
There are little flaws here and there that bug me; mostly things that I
could have or should have caught, but they are typical in publishing. That's
why books have several additions, to fix the mistakes! I'm really proud of what
we made, and I think it has a very distinct look and feel to it due in large
part to Sean [Coggins'] design.
Let's go back to the
origins of this project: Most people think of you as a photographer, obviously.
How confident were you about being able to write a book when it was first
proposed to you?
Very confident. Too confident, probably; it was harder than I thought.
I was interested in writing before I was ever a photographer, and I've
been published a lot over the years, so I knew I could write compelling words,
the question in my mind of course was, can I write that many compelling words?
What did you learn from
the process and how has it changed you as a writer now?
I learned to really define the goals of the project before you start to
write. I over-researched this thing so badly... I have enough material to write
a 500-page book, and there are so many people who were left out who deserve to
be there. Take P.D. for instance, his stories should be in there and aren't. My
interviews with Chip [Wilson] and Scott [Sibley] run somewhere around 25,000
words! I think I know more about Canadian snowboarding than just about anyone
at this point.
Having said that, the project is very "Dano-centric" and there
are people from outside my circle of contact that just don't show up at all.
I also learned that my voice as a writer changes a lot depending on my
mood; how distracted I am, and what is going on in my life. Keeping a
consistent tone throughout is difficult when you write it over several months.
You have to let certain things go and not obsess or you will be doing revisions
forever. The thing you learn is that you can't really fake this shit. You can
do it or you can't, and doing it means a lot of concentration, a lot of hours,
and you can't really skimp on that. It's impossible to phone it in.
Berger's 1991 team shot.
Who did you look to for
advice or guidance during those moments when another cup of coffee wouldn't
solve a problem or dilemma you faced?
Well, you always ask your wife first right? My wife T. put up with a lot
of headaches, because I'm maybe not the most pleasant guy to be around when I'm
focused and trying to accomplish something. Like, I'll forget to eat until four
in the afternoon because I'm just determined to finish a chapter or whatever.
And inspiration strikes at different times, so I could be up all night if the
words are flowing. Most people don't really roll that way or understand. I'm
fairly obsessive. Also, Colin Whyte, who contributed a chapter to the book, has
long been my mentor when it comes to anything about writing. He's the strongest
writer in action sports by far and I'm lucky to have access to his brain. Kim Stravers was a great editor, too.
She pulled things together, made the hard cuts that I couldn't, and made the whole
book a lot more readable.
The project, while
ostensibly about Westbeach, covers off a large amount of Canadian snowboard
history. Was this the original goal, or did it become inevitable as the process
went along?
When the guys from Westbeach first came to me, they talked about a brand
book celebrating the 30-year anniversary. I think they were pretty open to
ideas of how that would look and feel. At first I didn't really think there
would be as much writing, and that we'd tell the story in pictures and captions.
But as I started, I recognized that to tell the story at all, it was going to
require a lot of background information. You can't talk about Canadian snowboard
videos without talking about Whiskey
and The Burning for instance, and you
can't talk about influential Canadians without talking about Lofo, so the scope
of the story started to grow very early on. We cut down a lot of what was
originally on the table to keep it manageable. But to answer your question, the
goal was to talk about Westbeach's role in the growth of snowboarding, and they
were smart enough not to put any limits on what I could cover in the process of
doing so. It all happened very organically and I wrote where the story took me.
Some of the things I thought would be a big deal ended up not really being that
interesting, so they were cut.
The hand painted westbeach sign on the old west 4th store.
Even though you lived
through a lot of these moments, what are some of the most interesting stories
you uncovered that were new to you?
Mostly the business aspects, which aren't really the crux of the story,
so they aren't really the focus of the book. The book is a celebration of the
brand, but make no mistake: we talk about the shit times, too. There are
stories that aren't included because I don't think they appeal to most people
who will read the book, but let's just say that the snowboard industry in the
mid-to-late ‘90s was a gnarly place to make a living, and there are some
ruthless, nasty people out there. As a young company without a lot of
experience, Westbeach got taken advantage of by people without a vested
interest in snowboarding, and it's taken them a long time to recover. As a
young team rider, and then photographer, I wasn't really exposed to the
business, and now that is far more interesting to me.
I lived a lot of the on snow stories, so they weren't new to me or
particularly shocking, but I was still pretty young and I was partying a lot in
those days, so it was very cool to see things through the lens of maturity.
How about the photos?
There are some priceless old shots in there; what made you really and truly
gasp when you first saw it?
Probably John Kami's picture of our old front porch from 1988 or '89; it
transported me instantly back to a different world. A really good world. Also,
Eric Berger's team shot from the Westbeach Classic in 1991 or so. The people in
that photo are just amazing. There were shots in the Westbeach archive of Chip
trying on the very first snowboard prototype outerwear, which was funny, and
some personal snapshots that were funny or interesting. Chip gave me his old
day-timers from back then and that was pretty insightful; seeing how his brain
works a little.
Kami's porch shot.
There are some pretty
questionable pieces of clothing from way back when in the book... Since you
rode for Westbeach back in the day, what was the ugliest piece of clothing you
wore? And what, if you could get it back, would you still wear today?
Oh, by far the worst thing I ever wore is the outfit I'm wearing in the author
photo, in the inside back cover: Red, gold and green form head-to-toe. Who knew
the Rasta colours could look so terrible? What would I wear today? Hmmm... I'm
not sure. The fabrics today are just so much better than anything back then.
Actually, you know what? That red sweatshirt with white lettering that [Todd] Bowman
is wearing? I'd rock that today for sure. It was, and is, super sweet. There
are things in the mix that actually are bang on for today's super colourful,
full spectrum snowboard gear, though. These days I only wear black, though,
so...
Lastly, if you tackled another
project like this again, what would you do differently?
I would probably separate my research phase from my writing phase more.
So that once everything is in place, then
I can sequester myself off to some hole without internet distraction and write.
It's hard to try to write while you're still selling photos, planning trips,
doing interviews and planning a wedding! You have to put your foot down and say
"research done" at some point and start writing. If you're amending
the plan after you've started the writing, you can really throw a wrench into
things and it can get very confusing.
Also, I would probably have to work with a partner. Between all the
research, the photo editing, the mechanics of getting it to print, overseeing
design and promoting, it's a lot to bite off. You know what I'd do the same?
Work with Sean Coggins as a designer. Such a patient guy. Amazing. You'd never
know that in his brain, black metal is melting the sky 24 hours a day.
My favourite shot from my Westbeach years, Berta in the "marlboro" ad. From the catalog.
Out West: Snowboarding, Westbeach and a New Canadian Dream is available now, directly from Westbeach. You can also preview the first chapter from the book here.
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Related:
The Dano Portfolio
Jon Cartwright and the Westbeach Revival