L’implantation territoriale du surf et sa CULTURE HOULEUSE, un film documentaire indépendant de Florian Meca.
Culture Houleuse est un film documentaire sur l’implantation du surf et sa culture en Bretagne. Un voyage de 2200 km à la rencontre d’actrices et d’acteurs de la scène régionale, durant lequel Florian Meca a fait l’expérience de la fabrication et de la glisse de l’ancêtre du surf contemporain : véritable fil rouge du projet, c’est l’incarnation de ses interrogations et le point de départ de chaque interview.
Une exploration socio-géographique ponctuée d’analyses sur l’histoire du surf, les spécificités du littoral breton, l’appropriation culturelle, l’égalité des genres, et l’évolution de la pratique.
//ENG : The territorial implantation of surfing and its CULTURE HOULEUSE, an independent documentary film by Florian Meca.
Culture Houleuse is a documentary film about the establishment of surfing and its culture in Brittany. A 2200 km journey to meet the actors of the regional scene, during which I experienced the making and sliding of the ancestor of contemporary surfing: a true red thread of the project, it is the embodiment of my interrogations and the starting point of each interview.
A socio-geographical exploration punctuated by analyses of the history of surfing, the specificities of the Brittany coastline, cultural appropriation, gender equality, and the evolution of the practice.
–
Starring : Jean Desrois, Bénédicte Emery,
Edgar Flauw, Aïcha Dupoy de Guitard, Kévin LeGoff,
Paul-Alexis Leveugle, Mégane Murgia, Camille Prigent
and Fanny Thauvin.
Direction & production : Florian Meca
Theme song : Louis Huguenin
Special Thanks : Around The Waves, Surf Skate Culture Festival, International Surf Film Festival Anglet, Ensci-Les Ateliers, Mathilde Lopez, Corentin Rivière, Salomé Rigal, Valentin Kergueris, Paul-Alexis Leveugle, Romane Martin, Félix Lesouef, Aurélien Bacquet, Stephen Eko, Maxime Bellaunay, Clapot Surf Club, Gigantor.
Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/florian.meca/?hl=fr
©FlorianMeca2022
Territory. Its the main component of outdoor activities such as surfing. Its coastline, seabed, climate and tides all have a direct influence on surfing. But it doesn’t stop there, because a territory is inextricably linked to its inhabitants and their traditions. On the scale of surfing,
This has an impact on the way surfers interact with each other. This is precisely the case of Brittany (France). A region with a strong maritime culture, in which surfing plays an increasingly important role. But before we go any further, let me introduce myself.
My name is Florian Meca, I am 25 years old and I am a designer. 8 years ago, I discovered surfing and Brittany by scrupulously exploring its territory. Lulled by tales of adventure to the far reaches of Antarctica, I identified with these explorers devoured by an obsession.
Aboard their ship, they wouldn’t stop for anything, especially not freezing temperatures. That’s more or less the impression I had, being from Marseille (south of France) and not having the right equipment to surf in the warmth. So I’m not an extreme adventurer who braves oceans and glaciers, but
Let’s just say that I like to get out of my comfort zone and escape from my urban lifestyle. I take my old van to go surfing and camping whenever I can, or my motorbike to escape to the great outdoors.
Today, looking back, I wonder about this “shot” of territory that I experienced at the time. Curiosity opened my eyes to a reality I didn’t know anything about, but I didn’t really understand what I was discovering. How did surfing culture take root in Brittany?
I decided to embark on an expedition to conquer the Brittany territory, to gain a better understanding of the specific characteristics of the region and how it articulates its practices. And to take the fieldwork even further, I have a very specific goal. To make my own Alaïa, the ancestor of contemporary surfing.
But not in a tidy workshop, with a ton of tools at hand, no, no. On the road, near surf spots, and without power tools. The old-fashioned way. And because I love a challenge, I’m going to do it all in my old vanagon, “Gigantor”. All in 25 days and in the middle of autumn,
So I’d be sure it wouldn’t be too wet or too cold. Well, I wasn’t at the end of my surprises, let me tell you. Basically, I’m taking you on a documentary exploration of the territorial identity of surfing and its Culture Houleuse (swelling culture). Slowly but surely, I’m leaving Paris by road.
Heading for the “Jamet sawmill in Tremorel in the Côtes-d’Armor. To make my Alaïa, I had to start with the basics: finding a plank of wood. And to have a working base similar to that of Hawaiian traditions, my wood has to come from a tree felled in the area.
The know-how of the sawmill means I don’t have to find the tree in question, cut it down illegally and then try to get a board out of it. It’s a good thing, because I’ve never felled a tree in my life, and it saves me a lot of trouble.
The manager of the sawmill, Mr. Feroliard, showed me their stock and a beautiful plank of red cedar catched my eye. It’s a softwood that’s impervious to rot, with a low density so it floats on water, but strong enough to surf on. The tree comes from a neighbouring village and was
Felled because it was threatening to collapse on a house. Perfect. He cuts the board to the right length, we load it into the van and off I go, carving my Alaïa. But before we get started, let’s take a step back But before we get started, let’s take a step back
The first descriptions of the practice of stand-up surfing date from the discovery of the Hawaiian archipelago by James Cook in 1778. I quote “The Hawaiians have another way of getting about on the water, on very light and small boards, which we call shark boards due to
The similar anatomy of the front of the board to that of the shark. On these boards, they venture into the biggest waves and row with their hands and feet at high speed. In fact, we’ve never seen such active individuals in the water before.”
Can you imagine? You’re a Western Catholic explorer who doesn’t even know how to swim, and you land on an island with a surfing population? As a reminder, in 18th century Europe, slavery was in full swing, and in France, the revolution had not yet taken place at the time.
They must have been hallucinating. Taking pleasure in gliding across the water, in the natural barrier represented by the waves, at the risk of your life? What a joke. Well it was called He’enalu, a Hawaiian custom a little more complex than a simple pastime. It integrated the native political and religious system with surfing
And fulfilled several social functions. In the water, the Polynesians shared the waves, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. Only the social hierarchy gave priority to the waves and structured the community. The chiefs surfed Olo boards, heavy and nearly 4 meters long, made out of redwood, the colour of high dignitaries,
And the common people surfed lighter, shorter boards made of ordinary wood, the alaïas. The Polynesians were one of the greatest meridian civilizations in history, whose mythology attributed a divinity to each activity. Their perception of the universe made them act without any distinction between themselves and the ocean.
They were able to move around in their canoes by consulting the sky, the wind and the surface of the water. The missionaries, on the other hand, needed huge navigational instruments, a map and huge boats. And things hasn’t really changed today. They lived in symbiosis with their environment,
And this enabled them to establish a completely new maritime knowledge and technology. The Polynesians used up to 16 different woods to build their boats, according to technical and symbolic criteria, combined with judicious use of natural resources and religious rituals throughout the manufacturing process. To make a surfboard for royalty, for example,
A priest, Kahuna, in charge of its manufacture, selected a tree after observing it for several days to ensure that it was not inhabited by any living creature. A red fish, Kumu, was then buried at the root of the tree after several prayers before the tree was felled.
A way of materializing the reciprocity between the ocean and the land. You pull a tree out of the ground and put it in the water, so you take a fish out of the water to feed the land. Most of the boards had their own name and could be very coveted.
They were completely connected to the territory, since as well as being shaped for their type of wave, they came directly from the land they inhabited. Let’s get back to the field. For this expedition to Brittany, I went to meet 10 surfers whose daily lives are influenced by the waves and their territory.
The region offers a wide variety of coastlines, and I began by immersing myself in Camille’s, in North Finistère. I was able to follow him for a morning in the trapped waves of a hostile, rocky cove. But for him, it goes much further than that.
Can you tell us a bit more about the type of spot where you live and what makes you feel so attached to it? I feel attached to it because of the promiscuity because there’s a certain intimacy in a place
That’s open to the ocean because it’s shaped like a horseshoe, so you can feel like you’re in an open alcove where the sea can bring you waves. We’re really in that part of the shore that’s completely mixed, where the surf finally enters the coast, through this crack that’s been made on this spot.
We’ve got this side with trees, forest, we’ve got a beach right next to the spot which for me is one of the most beautiful coves we’ve got in the area, with sand that’s just magnificent. There’s a balance of rock, vegetation and sea, and the seabed is extraordinary when the sea is ultra-calm.
It’s crystal-clear water that opens out onto the open sea, with areas of magnificent seaweed. And then there’s the name of the rock at the bottom, the “Roc’h An Holen”, which means salt rock, with the idea of salt drying on the rock.
So there are lots of little things, a jigsaw puzzle that helps you to build and at the same time to feel around this image, this perception of things, to know from the elders that this is a place
That has been inhabited for a very long time, that there are little things that most people and that mean that the spot is built, that it’s been there for
a really long time and to think that in the end you’re very small in front of a wave and you’re also very small compared to the time and space-time where people lived in that place,
In relation to the time and space-time in which people have lived in that place, and in a different way that surfing is anecdotal in the time of that place. The territory shapes our vision, and as surfers we have a rather unique relationship with it.
In Brittany, there are two types of surfer, the native and the adopted. They both have the same challenge, but they don’t have the same cards to play. To maintain a special relationship with their coastline, by studying how it works. To surf a wave, you need to understand how it works,
In the territory where it is generated. Add to that the choice of the board that best suits its characteristics, and you’ve got lots of little local scenes. I’ve been here for a good twenty years, in the Saint-Malo region more generally.
I arrived here by chance, because I’m not originally from here at all. I spent my childhood between Lyon and the Ardèche, and then I moved around quite a bit in the south of France, going back up to the Nantes region before landing in Brittany.
At the time, I was still in Lyon, I was at high school, my dad used to take me to the seaside, and for my studies, I went to the Mediterranean sea, and I started surfing a lot there.
Surfing, you could say that it had a lot to do with the sea, but surfing above all, had a lot to do with my choices, from the moment I started in fact, from the moment I was a child. In fact, the choices were already made, initiated by my parents,
I think, by taking me to the seaside, systematically. And then, when I was old enough to make my own choices, from my teens onwards, I always made them to get closer to the sea, to be able to surf, to be by the water.
For me, it’s Penfoul, the spot I frequent the most, it’s like one of Andune Vez, north-west Finistère. It’s a long wave that goes into the ground, narrow and deep. When the swell conditions are right, you get a right that can be quite hollow,
Coming off the rocks, so it’s going to be more a group of young people with short boards, quite radical maneuvers, quite explosive. Then, overall, it’s small waves, 1m, 1m20, soft. So there’s more relaxed surfing for beginners and experienced surfers but with bigger boards.
At high tide, there can always be 2-3 bits of wave breaking, and here it’s going to be more longboard, small 50-80cm waves, which barely break, but which are enough to glide along on a longboard. A little further north, there’s a slab where more temperate bodyboarders go,
Really with a slab wave that can be quite strong, and bodyboarding that will roll right up to the edge of the rocks before returning and paddling quite quickly out to sea. But if I have to go to the beach,
I don’t go to Penfoul, but if I have to go surfing, I go to Penfoul. If there was a map with characteristics of the north, like that, I don’t know, I associate a lot of places with what I do there, so behind Penfoul,
There’s another corner where it’s where I’m going to do underwater hunting, on the map it’s specified “underwater hunting”, at another corner, there’s a fallback spot, it’s specified “fallback spot”, at another corner, it’s rockier, “lots of rocks”, “kayak paddle”. At this point, I admit, I’m a little jealous of them.
I too want to have my own surf spot that matches my personality and my history. How lucky they are to feel at home, even in such a wild and uncontrollable environment.. But the smell of the wooden plank that permeates my van reminds me that I’ve got a job to start.
While preparing for my expedition, I studied Alaïas to make the one that would be best suited to my size and the style of waves I like to surf. This enabled me to make a template to trace the contours of the Alaïa on the wooden board before cutting it out.
For storage reasons, it’s made out of paper, not medium like the shapers who make surfboards. They keep these relics for the rest of their lives. So I know I’m not going to get very far in time with my crumpled piece of paper,
But my 3D file on which this print is based will live a little longer. I grab the Japanese saw that my friend Maxime lent me, and off I go to cut. You’re probably wondering how this wooden board is going to allow me to surf, right?
Don’t worry, I was just like you at the beginning. Before making it, I’d never seen an Alaïa in real life, only in videos and books. It’s a thin wooden board, as flat as it gets, with no fin, the part that allows you to control your trajectory in the waves.
This is in stark contrast to modern surfboards, which are more or less curved and can have up to 5 fins to grip the surface of the water. Then the board has some buoyancy, but not when you’re on it. It’s not a floater like other boards, which are often made of polyurethane foam.
This makes it harder to move around in the water, and you have to swim with a sinking board rather than row lying down on one that floats. Besides, you don’t have a leach, the synthetic cord that connects you to the board. So if you let it slip in the waves,
It’s”bye bye” wooden board, and you’d better swim fast. But apart from these few practical aspects, the Alaïa features a fascinating manufacturing technology from the nautical world: the concave. On the lower part of the board, the part that is submerged, there is this hollow shape, like that of a spoon.
Well, this concave optimizes water circulation and and stabilizes the board when you’re on the wave. In practice, this means that the back of the board and its edges are in the wave, allowing you to maneuver while gliding. But I’ll be able to confirm that once I’ve tested my board.
For now, I’m off to La Torche, the iconic surf spot in Finistère, to join Mégane at the end of the day. We stayed in the water until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. We felt so good on this big sandy beach that we couldn’t wait to see anything more before heading home.
La Torche is a place where you can surf all year round, with waves that suit all levels and are also great for beginners. We are lucky that it works all year round, meaning that it catches all the swells.
Afterwards, in the surrounding area, as there is a coast which is very jagged, we can choose according to conditions, fallback spots. If there are too many swells, for example at La Torche, which is very big, you can go to other spots that will be smaller or more sheltered,
Better oriented for the wind direction. In fact, in this area, it’s not bad because there are waves just about everywhere. Brittany offers a whole range of beach types, and everyone has a favorite type of coastline. When a surfer regularly frequents a spot near his home, he generally calls it his “home spot”.
You surf there, you meet up with friends and family there, you sunbathe there when the weather’s fine – in short, you domesticate the natural space, with your own little habits. After all, you feel at home because the place looks like you, don’t you?
Yet this anglicism betrays the localism that can be found in certain places. Jumbled together, everyone ends up appropriating the same territory in the end, and you’re kind of obliged to live with everyone else. It’s a bit like being on the road. And that’s partly wh
Brittany surfers are used to swallowing up the kilometers from one beach to the next. A term that could replace it. It’s a great question because there are some real topics around the ‘home spot’. You see, this is where we’re doing the interview,
Where we’re actually in my place, it’s something that belongs to you, you know, your home. A place that welcomes you, or the place that has welcomed you best in your surfing, would be more appropriate than a notion of “home spot”, actually. And the bay, for that matter, is all about welcome.
You feel good there, not because you surf well or because you’re at home. You feel good because you feel welcomed, because when you go in the water, you get smiles or hellos, you get this notion of sharing. And for me, the bay is synonymous with that, it’s not synonymous with belonging, or because
I go out there a lot, it’s something that belongs to me, when someone appreciates a place. So it’s the same, I reckon, you’ve got those who share the surf, you’ve got those who are more into individualism, it’s an approach. But in any case, when it comes to the notion of sharing,
I think we’re talking more about a ‘land of hospitality’ rather than a ‘home spot’. When I leave Brest to go back to South Finistère, and I say to friends that we’re going to meet up to surf, I often say “we’re going to surf at home”,
And that’s a bit like the translation of “home spot”, but that’s how I feel, it’s a place that’s really anchored as a family place. “Home spot’ is a bit more localistic than ‘I don’t go there because it’s my home, I go there because it’s where I feel comfortable’.
If you think of La Torche as your home, then for me it’s the place to go to discover surfing when you come to Brittany, to South Finistère. It’s a magnificent place, it’s emblematic, so we want to show “that’s it, that’s where I learned, these are places we know well,
So we can help them too, it you have to take the flow, you have to do that.” Because we feel comfortable there, we can also put others at ease when we invite them to come surf with us or people who don’t know surfing at all and who are scared.
As we’re reassured to be at home, we can guide others properly. I’m ready to drive to get good conditions, I’m ready to drive but within the confines of the house. I’m not a “Fangio” saying to myself, there are conditions that will be met in Quiberon,
You see, even 150 km is too much for me. But for a lot of reasons too, I think that these days our timeslots are a bit tighter because of work, family, life and so on. So you can’t just take off 600 km away as easily as you used to.
So no, today it really comes down to 30-40km. So I drive a lot, or at least I used to drive a lot. When I got my licence, it all went bonkers. I did a lot of kilometers and yes, I think there’s always the quest for the best wave at the best time.
And as the coast is very steep in Brittany, that already means several hours in the car. I’ve spent afternoons driving along the coast, looking out, passing a spot, thinking “Ah, maybe it’ll be better later, the grass is always greener next door”.
Sometimes it wouldn’t end and you’d go back to the first spot and the tide had gone out. So yeah, I rode a lot, a lot to find waves. In hindsight, I now try to go to a spot and just surf. I’m here, I’m surfing now.
It might be better in another place, but it might not be better. So I might as well make the most of it. If it’s good there, I’ll go straight away. So I’m trying to keep the kilometers down. We have so many kilometers of coastline, so much to offer and, finally, Brittany being
A peninsula, allows us to take advantage of this, i.e. the spots are all a bit far from each other, but in the end, we’re always under the 1.5 to 2 hour limit. So even in winter, on short days, the road is manageable, so we’ll take shelter.
Those from the south will come when the wind is south-west and we’ll move when the wind is north-east. So there’s always a back and forth movement, a bit of “We’ll go to your place this time, you come next time”.
Because we have this peninsular aspect and we have a good highway system that allows us to be extremely efficient when it comes to getting around a spot. If we take the south-west, for instance, let’s say the Landes and the Basque Country,
It’s an area of 40 to 60 kilometers, so it’s nothing at all compared to each piece that each of us will have, but in the end they only have one exposure. So when it’s bad, it’s really bad, whereas we always have a fallback solution.
That’s what we call it in winter, when the wind is bad, we fall back. The playground is huge, and every weekend everyone has the chance to explore their region in quest of a new wave. By cataloguing the coastlines and immersing yourself in new
Natural environments, you end up doing a lot of mental mapping of the area. Well, especially when Brittany is calm and there isn’t a storm on every beach. In my four-wheeled workshop, I’m a bit limited in terms of tools,
And given the thickness of the board, I’m going to have to seriously refine its silhouette. I can’t even imagine how much time I’ll spend on it with my little plane. I set off straight away to find a planer that could swallow the extra centimeters, and I ended up at the “Cornillet Jacky” carpentry.
In just a handful of runs through the machine, my alaïa loses twice its volume. That’s progress. And that’s no luxury if I’m to meet my deadlines, especially as I’m in the middle of the Aurora storm that’s hitting all of Brittany. It’s raining, blowing and freezing!
To think that some people will probably go surfing in these conditions, all I have to do is stick my head out the window to take a bath. But I prefer to take shelter in the van, and take the time to learn about surfing in Brittany.
In France, it wasn’t until 1860 that the benefits of swimming were widely discovered, before sliding into a recreational practice with the arrival of paid holidays in 1936. The therapeutic and bourgeois practice of sea bathing had been exported to France by English aristocrats
To France at the beginning of the 19th century, after creating seaside resorts on their coastline. The custom took root in Dieppe under “”Madame de Boigne, then later in Biarritz with Napoleon III. At the time, France had colonies in Polynesia, including Hawaii,
And a variation of sea bathing was popular with its doctors : “Surf bathing”. Surfing in other words, wich was strictly forbidden by the Euro-American missionaries. Well done guys, you are geniuses. And while people were learning to bathe in France, surfing was evolving,
Intriguing the settlers of the Hawaiian Islands, then seducing writers like Jack London. But it was mostly thanks to prominent figures that surfing came to take on an international dimension. Georges Freeth, Duke Kahanamoku, Isabel Letham, Tom Blake, Pete Peterson, Bob Simmons, Bruce Brown, the Calhoun clan, Joyce Hoffman, Georges Greenough, Linda Benson, until
It timidly arrived in Biarritz in 1956, before the creation of the first surf club a few years later. The press and television introduced this curiosity to the rest of France, including our beautiful Brittany, and it wasn’t until 1970 that the first Brittany surfing pioneers appeared, although surfing remained very marginal until the 1990s.
And this recent practice of swimming in France clearly shows the gap that exists between Hawaiian surfers and us. Personally, I know people who surf but who don’t necessarily know how to swim well, or who are even afraid of the water. It may sound crazy, but I’m sure I’m not the only one.
And if there’s one type of person who’s well suited to tell us about the importance of swimming in the waves, it’s bodysurfers. It’s a simple experience on paper, but one that Aïcha opened my eyes to by sharing a session with me when I was visiting the Crozon peninsula.
When you bodysurf, you use only your body and flippers to propel yourself through the waves on your stomach. You need to be a good swimmer, and be prepared to take on a few less waves than when surfing. But there, you’re really becoming one with the water, and it’s a much purer glide.
So for me, bodysurfing is a return to basics. In the Landes, bodysurfing is quite well developed, it’s a culture that’s linked to lifeguards, but it’s just flippers, waves and that’s it. And that’s what I like, going back to basics, being one with the wave.
And here, I’ve brought that with me, there aren’t many people doing it, but that doesn’t matter because I like solitude, so I go out into the ocean. And I feel in harmony with the elements. The aim is, I have to have a wetsuit unfortunately, if I couldn’t have one
It would be even better, but it’s to be in osmosis with the landscape around me and the ocean. So to feel the wave lift me up, to be inside it, to feel the water on my face, to caress it with my fingertips, to be carried, that’s all there is to it.
And I feel like, we all belong to nature, unfortunately in our daily lives we forget that a bit, and here I’m at one again with the elements, it’s where I belong. In the water, I like to be where I belong.
I used to say to myself, we’re going to immerse ourselves in nature, whether we go on foot or by bike, it’s not the same, on foot you’re anchored in the earth, you feel the energies, it’s the same, there’s no “I’m not separated from the water”, I’m in the water.
Surfing, in fact, for me, with the board, I think it’s great to glide, to go far, to do tricks and all that, but I’m too separated from the water. I need to be in it, it’s in it that I feel the best. In fact, when I dream at night
That I’m in the water, I’m not on top of it, I’m in it. Sometimes I even dream that I’m breathing in the water, but I can’t do that yet, maybe later. While the territory will have a particular effect on the style of surfboard chosen to optimise your glide,
Bodysurfing seems to be able to nestle in any type of wave. The surfer paddles on an object optimised for surfing, and the bodysurfer swims to give himself the ability to glide over the water. The combination of these constraints reminds me of my Alaïa. I’ll have to swim
With it as it won’t float when I’m on it, but it will allow me to glide longer than if I didn’t have a board. It’s quite a puzzle, but the experience of building it will allow me to go further in my thought process.
In the history of Hawaii, there’s Pipeline, which gave birth to a model of board called “Pipeliners”, which are hyper-refined single fins, and as a result these boards were made specifically for that spot, and I think that today it’s perhaps a little less obvious,
Because there are so many boards that can work in different conditions, that there’s a bit of everything on each spot, but at the time it was a lot like that I think. Today it’s more like, well, this is a small wave spot, so we’re going to take longboards,
It’s a spot in the Landes, it’s more small board spots, but yeah, there are a lot of models that work in a lot of different waves now, so you don’t see this one board equals one spot side as much. But already, when you go from the “Côte Sauvage” spot to the beaches,
You still see a difference, you can’t do everything with a board from the Côte Sauvage, and vice versa. For example, I pretty much only do single fin boards, so in itself it’s a big model, but then in terms of length, width and outline,
It’s complicated to have one model for everything, it’s almost impossible. Since I’ve been shaping, I’ve improved a lot in surfing, because I understand the board better, I understand how it works, how the shape influences the surf, and yeah yeah,
I think understanding the shape of a surfboard makes me grow as a surfer too. In fact for me it’s really two different cultures. Alaïa is a word that doesn’t really have a translation, that could not really have
A translation, it’s the Polynesian word used to describe a board made of such wood, thick like that, long like that, because that depending on the length there are other words like Paipo and Olo. The Alaïa is really an object in its own right that’s different from the surfboard,
Which is more of a western and modern object, whereas the Alaïa is more traditional and part of ancestral Polynesian culture. It’s hard to surf when you’re conditioned to the surfboard and it’s a buoy, a surfboard.
This is what allows as many people as possible to do it. After all, I’ve never managed to surf an Alaïa properly, but from reading about the object, the videos I’ve seen and the conversations I’ve had, it seems to be the perfect gliding object.
A surfboard is used for paddling, for getting around, for positioning on the spot, it’s really a vehicle. It is in the sense that it is an object that allows a human to move around, to move. The Alaïa doesn’t have that thing, it’s not a vehicle, it’s more the object that you
Take to glide, but which is not made to move in the water, it’s really designed to glide along the waves when they come in, so you have to learn to move with it, to let it move with you. It’s a swimming object, and the best way to move through water is to swim.
The idea behind the alaïa is to be able to swim with it properly so that you can move around with it. I think it also corresponds to a type of wave, where the Alaïa is an object whose design emerged in a region of the world where the waves are reef waves,
So hollow waves of fairly substantial size, and in fact you’re less dependent on swimming for the take-off because the slope generates the take-off more than in soft waves where you compensate for the low slope by paddling speed, so surfboarding does have its advantage.
In Brittany, going surfing can be like entering an arena. You gear up backstage with a thick neoprene wetsuit, then you walk all the way to the beach, and if there’s a crowd in the water, then you have to make room for yourself behind the waves in the line-up,
Compete with the easy-to-paddle boards, jealously watch those who are always better placed at the start of the waves, and manage to surf a little. In any case, I’m already imagining myself with my Alaïa not floating in the middle of it all. Sounds promising.
I’ve never really introduced it to you, but this is my workshop. And working outside is all nice and dandy, but you always have to deal with the weather and the amount of sunshine, especially in autumn. So I’m constantly renewing the set-up,
And I might as well tell you that it’s a long way from its stabilised, well-lit formula. But now I’m in the thick of it. I grate and plane the alaïa relentlessly, to reveal the curves of the object, and give volume to this wooden board.
Then, you have to sand by reducing the intensity of the grains of the sandpaper, little by little. Then finish with steel wool. It’s hard work, it warms you up, and the only thing I’m waiting for is to be able to finally finish this board and oil it.
No varnish, resin, or any other synthetic compound. The Hawaiians used to protect their boards with coconut oil, but I’ll be using linseed oil and a little walnut stain for the dye. Soon, I’ll be heading for the beaches of Brittany and their waves that roll in just as they should.
Brittany is the region that took my surfing to a whole new level. With its 2,470 km of coastline, Brittany accounts for a third of the coastline of mainland France. You understand why this was the ideal terrain for this expedition. The region is divided into 4 departments: Ille-et-Vilaine, Côtes-d’Armor, Finistère and Morbihan.
And each department has its own label in terms of the types of surf spots and surfers. Brittany offers a wide variety of beaches suitable for surfing. From wide stretches of sand contained within a jagged coastline in Côtes-d’Armor. Rocky coves sculpted by the harsh elements in Finistère.
Large beaches of fine sand held back by moorland in Morbihan. To peninsulas where the cliffs plunge into the water, only offering favorable conditions at certain times of the tide. And despite the emergence of real-time marine weather forecasts, there’s no substitute
For knowing a spot when the conditions are right to get in the water. This archive is 57 years old and still going strong, even in Brittany. In today’s digital age, when it’s never been easier to start surfing because an algorithm rates the quality of the waves in advance,
There are a few problems of cohabitation. From the highly polished and superficial aesthetics of social media to the spectacle offered by competition, everyone finds the entry point that speaks the most to them. And these differences in style, level or understanding of the marine environment can
Create tensions that are settled either on the water or in the parking lot. And believe me, no matter how well equipped you are to deal with the natural environment, you’re no less helpless when it comes to dealing with the behaviour of the people around you.
That’s what Fanny and I wanted to avoid, by going surfing at sunrise north of Lorient. She arranged to meet me at this spot very early, for several reasons. Her professional obligations, enjoying the sunrise, and above all being the only ones in the water.
I have never really been a victim of malicious people, or there might just be a couple of comments at the beginning when you’re a beginner and you’re clueless. And I’ve even felt some annoyance to the point of saying “I’m on it” !
With the democratisation that’s going on, even for us in the summer, it’s still Brittany, even if we don’t get into our swimsuits and act like divas, it’s still a spot that’s becoming more and more popular.
In concrete terms, we’re more confronted with it, so we’re learning to live together, we’re also learning to get up earlier or adapt our schedules so that we can live together as well as well as possible, or in any case so that we’re satisfied with the conditions we encounter and
The fact that there are a lot of people out there isn’t just another problem with the weather. I think that the Brittany people character can lead to outspokenness on the water, but I don’t find that very shocking now that I’m in it.
I think it’s something that allows you to get straight to the point and you don’t necessarily have the time to express yourself. You can also make things better in the parking lot, but we can also make them worse by waxing the windshields.
In fact, we hear this a lot on the Côte Sauvage, because there really a peak and there’s a bit of a merry-go-round system, when you come back, it’s your turn and if you miss your wave, you’re dead. Then again, beach breaks leave a lot of room
for missing a wave and that’s no problem. There’s a friendly atmosphere in the water where I go. Before the arrival of surfing in Brittany, the ocean and the sea were purely working areas frequented by generations of fishermen. Many lost their lives there, leaving their wives and children fatherless or brotherless.
In other words, it was unthinkable that this place of labour could be turned into a playground. And this may have contributed to the masculine image of surfing in Brittany. The sea was a really dangerous place and so it was
Frowned upon by fishermen to go and play in the water like that. Well, I think from what I’ve heard, the first surfers who got into the water, there were some fishermen who didn’t take it very well because it wasn’t a place to mess around. So maybe you had to be more daring,
Also because the water was cold and there weren’t necessarily any wetsuits. I think that already, there is a harshness, as we said earlier, in the weather. It’s not for everyone. It’s true that in any case, we’ve come to terms with the idea
of being able to surf in board-shorts or in a swimming-suit. We know it doesn’t happen, or maybe only once a year. You have to accept the discomfort that goes with it. There are also spots where sometimes there is a kilo of algae at the level of a coffee table
On the spot for one or two months and I think that it’s all these elements that can make the environment hostile, can make the context hostile, which make that in the end, there is a sort of sorting that is
Out that takes place and whether it’s for fishing or anything else, going out at 5am to brave a sea that can be rough to go fishing, I don’t think everyone is capable of it. And even the cold, being able to handle things with your hands.
I know that fishing nets and handling things can be very complicated. I had read a book about a woman sailor like that and she could see that she had her limits. Even when you read books by Anita Conti, you realise that in fact she was
A rare breed in that world, but that there were reasons for it. And I think that, in fact, it’s becoming more democratic in the true sense of the word, that more and more women are surfing and accepting it. It’s not about being a warrior,
it’s about loving to surf and accepting what goes with it in the area where I am, i.e. water that can be very cool very quickly throughout the year. There’s also the fact that it’s a sport with more male media coverage,
So I see the fact that there are fewer women in the water more as a result of the fact that it’s hard to identify with surfers. When you’re a girl and you see men surfing, with all the imagery
that goes with it and the whole universe, you don’t necessarily identify with that sport. When I say that, I picture the first editions of Surfsession magazines, and it’s a world I didn’t really identify with, so maybe that hasn’t encouraged girls to take up surfing, but it’s difficult to know why
There aren’t any girls in the water, because as we used to say, surfing is a male and female sport. I don’t think there’s any need for particular power or physical strength that women don’t have, I think women bring a
Different vision, even to the water. It’s always great in a group, whether it’s in the water or elsewhere, whether it’s mixed, whether there’s a girl in the group, the atmosphere is always different. Cold water and wind require good protection for surfing, and it’s
Neoprene wetsuits that make it possible to cope with the most unpleasant conditions. They are all industrially manufactured, and their cut was exclusively masculine until the 90s. Today, wetsuits play a part in the construction of gender identities. Women wear them like colourful bikinis, while men are dressed entirely in black.
Since its Americanization, surf culture has marginalized women’s surfing by building on a male culture. For example, athletes competing on the professional circuit have to be flawless in both their surfing ability and their looks. The standards are ridiculous, and some female surfers find themselves without a sponsor.
Silvana Lima, for example, who represented Brazil at the last Olympic Games, has not had a single sponsor in her 13-year professional career. She didn’t fit into the beauty criteria of the brands looking for model surfers, and has always preferred to surf in shorts rather than a bikini.
This was a real hindrance to the development of her professional career, because without a sponsor it’s very complicated to manage to pay the costs of taking part in the championships. What’s more, since 2018, the WSL, the World Surf League, has formally prohibited its
Its operators from zooming in on the breasts or bottoms of surfers in bikinis. They must keep to wide shots, as they do when filming men. True gentlemen. It was very male-dominated in the early years,
Until not very long ago, until not very long ago, and I think it wasand I think that was mainly due to the harshness of the climate, and the equipment that wasn’t necessarily appropriate. Initially, when we wanted a suit that would stand up well to the cold water,
That would be well suited to here, it was all men’s suits. So they floated around our shoulders, which wasn’t great! So we didn’t have very suitable equipment, so it wasn’t very motivating. It was really only the hardest people who went there.
And as time went by, things evolved, there were brands that adapted to our morphology, and that offered equipment, I remember, I add layers, I do the onion method, and when I had things that I bought for men, it burned me,
maybe we have thinner skin, I don’t know, but I was all irritated, everywhere. Now I have things that are suitable for girls, I go there more often and I stay there longer. And I think that for other girls, it’s the same thing, so it’s becoming more and more feminine,
And now the climate doesn’t stop us, because we have what we need, according to our morphology, and that’s much better ! In fact, it’s more a question of communication that shapes surfing. There’s women’s surfing and men’s surfing, the brands are all divided in two,
There are certain brands which are starting to have women’s segments on the on the men’s side, Quicksilver, there’s Quicksilver women, whereas there’s Roxy next door. However there are also very gendered festivals for men and very gendered festivals for women, so what could make the girls compete against the boys? I don’t know,
There’s no good answer anyway, but competition leads to the creation of boxes, because because in the end the girls compete in this box, the boys in that one, so competition is harmful, whereas in the end surfing is a free, leisure activity, it’s diverse.
It’s an activity, but if some people consider it to be a sport, that’s another matter, and that’s what also creates conflict in the water, whether it’s boys or girls, i.e. “I’m better than you, I’ve got the wave, I do competitions, you don’t”,
That creates differences in level, and there will always be differences in level, but that’s fine, because it only progresses upwards, but there are certain competitors outside the competition who think they are competitors when there is no competition ,
And sometimes that creates a bit of a noxious atmosphere, but it could be girls or boys. even if I think that girls are much more open than boys in the water because they have to deal with gender issues. Once again, brands and the media
Are imposing a body standard and sexualising its representation. There’s no end to the caricature of the blonde surfer with a perfect body. Fortunately, neoprene equipment is gradually becoming unisex and the representation of bodies is diversifying. Brands are riding the wave of gender-neutrality
And eventually lining up prices for their different cuts of wetsuit. Little by little, we’re returning to the equality of practice that prevailed in the era of Alaias. That’s it, the Alaïa is ready to be surfed. Weighing in at 5 kilos and measuring 1.80 meters in length,
It will give me a taste of a unique surfing experience, a pure Brittany made He’enalu. Handling the board, I’m impressed by its elastic deformation capacity. And I really owe that to the glueless wood. The Alaïa is flat, but its flexibility will allow it to hug the curve of the waves under my weight.
Its profile will be in perpetual evolution once in the water. Some rigid surfboards can have flex like this, but usually more at the tail end. I’m thinking in particular of the Kneeboard, developed by Californian shaper George Greenough in the 70s. A pioneer
and an essential researcher in the history of surfing and boating. And seeing this today, I’m sure he’s tried to reproduce this quality by studying alaïas. Wood is not a stabilized material like fiberglass and resin, and it has its limits in an environment as mechanically demanding as waves.
That’s why Greenough had to adapt it to synthetic materials, to increase its durability and exploit its capabilities to the full. In the case of the wood of my Alaïa, it will live through each session differently and will continue to work until the next one, between drying and heavy water stress.
So, in fact, I’ll be surfing a living board. Right away, I see it less as an inert piece of wood, and I understand why the Hawaiians gave them names. It really forces you to take care of your board from A to Z.
No wonder they were custom-made by specialized priests in those days. And taking a few shortcuts, I draw an analogy with the way we surf today. One person is always in charge of making the boards, the shaper. Each type of board is adapted to a particular style of wave.
Surfboards are totemic objects that make their owners proud, and tell us a lot about their personalities. But with the massive evolution of the surf industry since the 60s, we tend to forget this. And from a historical point of view, not many surfers are familiar with this culture.
From the outset, I felt that the alaya would be a good way of embodying these questions between territory and object. Especially as it’s still used by a few rare surfers in a niche alternative practice. But does making and surfing an Alaïa in Brittany today make sense?
Especially when you’re foreign to your origins, white and atheist in the 21st century? After all, it was born centuries ago, almost 12,000 kilometers from Brittany. That was my introduction to shaping too, when I was I think 12. I’d just started surfing and I was already making wooden skateboards,
So I built an alaïa, which was a shabby thing, made out of melamine. So I remember, I think I still have half the board, because of course it broke very quickly. It’s the basis of the basis. That’s where surfing started and it’s cool that you can still find them today.
I’m very interested in the history of surfing and I realize that a lot of people surf without knowing much about its history. So I think it would be a good thing to try and make some people aware of it, to bring it all together.
The surfboard evolves with the concerns of its time, as if it were holding up a mirror in which we could see our desires as well as our fears. And it’s not immune to gender distinctions either, even though there’s no such thing as women’s surfing.
The shape of a board is more a function of the type of glide and wave. The only thing that will bring an element of distinction and gender will be the decoration. And as with neoprene wetsuits, it’s a trend created by brands responding to a marketing segment.
That’s why this type of board is more likely to be found in the big distributors. Color is generally a price factor that has an impact on the manufacturing and purchasing costs of a surfboard, which is why they’re generally all white, so unless there’s a
Special order, a shaper wouldn’t manufacture a board for women, unlike the brands. Especially since they have their own graphic identity, like artists and designers. By the way, quick sidenote. If you’re wondering why we still see so much resin, epoxy or polyester in surfing today,
When there are more or less ecological alternatives springing up left and right, it’s because it offers unrivalled renderings, especially when dyed. In this case, the resin allows a very complex search for color, to which we can add a unique depth effect thanks to the various finishing stages.
This contributes to the reputation of shapers, self-taught craftsmen who master hydrodynamics, sculpting and color. The most influential, sometimes unwillingly, set the trends for brands elsewhere. Wait a minute, now that I think about it, I realize that at the time of making this film,
There are only professional male shapers, and no women in Brittany. How did we get here? So a female Breton shaper, no, and in fact I’m realizing that it’s regrettable, but I think there are actually chicks I know who are self-taught, so they won’t necessarily become shapers, but
They like the idea of learning to make their own board. So there’s a real desire to be able to make your own object, your own sculpture. That’s perhaps linked to a more general social phenomenon in the craft trades, which have historically been more male-dominated, so things have been changing in recent years.
I think it’s just linked to that, even in surfing in the strict sense, when you see that for the last 50 years, even for the last 10 years that you’ve been surfing in the water, it’s still 90% men, it’s not surprising that out of the remaining 10% of
Girls, there’s statistically less chance of there being a female shaper. In Brittany, I don’t think there are any, or at least I don’t know any. There are more and more girls in the water, but in Brittany that’s only recent,
If you go back one or two generations. So it’s going to take some time for more and more girls to get into this sport, which used to be fairly male-dominated. After that, shaping is a manual and technical job.
It often seems to me that women don’t choose these professions as much as men, but I wouldn’t go into the reasons why, because I don’t know why. But I think there are girls who will come, I hope there will soon be girls in Brittany
Making surfboards and I hope ecological surfboards, that would be great. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced it, but when you’re chatting to a surfer, everything can come to a halt if the swell joins in the discussion, as was the case with Paul-Alexis.
We put the discussion on hold to go surfing at exactly the time the waves told us to. We headed for a large sandy beach in Morbihan, not far from his workshop. And after photographing her from the beach, it was time to swap roles to film the first launch of the Alaïa.
I’ll just go and get the van and my things. I’ll be there in a minute! Now, I’m convinced, the alaïa floats, even if it glides over the water like wet soap on tiles.
Without a leash and on foot in the waves, I feel like I’m 6 years old and climbing a bodyboard. So I admit, it’s not easy at first and you need a very specific wave style to get the most out of the board. But it’s a blast!
The flexibility of the board provides both recovery and support in the trajectories. I can’t wait to continue my tests in other conditions. The next day, we’ll be swapping boards in the water with Paul-Alexis, to compare the way they feel.
And let me tell you that going from a longboard to an alaïa is like going from a Hummer to a Twingo. But this time, we’re surrounded by other riders, the waves are better and at the mere sight of my board,
Some of them express their disdain for my potential display of style. You’ve seen me though, do I look like I’m showing off with my culbuto look? Brittany is having to deal with the overcrowding of its best waves, especially since Covid. Surfing is all the rage and supermarkets are flooding
Coastal towns with cheap equipment to attract surfers. This makes surfing more accessible, and the once quiet waves are now packed with all kinds of surfers. Putting myself in the shoes of the locals, it must be very frustrating. So obviously, seeing a guy trying to surf
On a piece of wood and missing waves, that’s got to piss a lot of people off. And while the observation isn’t unique to Brittany, it does remind me of the one and only way to demonstrate surfing live. The competition. The Hawaiians, with the Ehenalu, used to challenge each other in the water.
It was up to whoever surfed the biggest wave for the longest time on the biggest board. It’s a show of strength that’s still going strong, almost two centuries after the discovery of stand-up paddleboarding. It seems that ever since, we’ve never found another way
To give credibility to this practice during sporting and cultural events. This very archetypal form helps to entrench the male-female divide, although there are initiatives such as the Queen Classic Surf Festival, an inclusive surfing festival in Biarritz. In the professional arena, the first women’s competition was organised in 1975,
And equal prize money has been official at the World Championship since 2019. If you take a closer look, these changes have taken place since a woman, Sophia Goldschmidt, took over as head of the organisation and the Committee for Equity in Women’s Surfing brought pressure to bear.
Besides, with the sport’s arrival at the Olympic Games, I can easily imagine the number of surf club members skyrocketing as soon as a French medal appears. Even if surfing has become more popular thanks to social networks,
I’m thinking of the future generation who will be the most active on tomorrow’s waves. You fight a match, you fight a race, you fight a battle, but does it really make sense to fight over a wave? By transforming it into an arena full of athletes where tricks,
Speed and power become the sole criteria for evaluation, we are neglecting the spirit of togetherness and contemplation of the natural element. It’s the judges, not the referees, who draw up the rankings according to their own assessments. This is the court of surfing,
And inevitably it can lead to mistrust and individualism. I competed when I was in a sort of sport-study programme with the La Torche centre, when I was at secondary school, and at the beginning I was into it so I liked it,
The competitive spirit and all that, and little by little as you get older you realise that the girls are always put through when the waves are a bit rotten, or it’s a bit of a sandwich break. You realise that the judges are less attentive to the girls’ heats,
Maybe that was back then, maybe it’s changed, but back then they were less attentive to the girls’ heats than to the men’s heats. In the end, there aren’t many tools that convey all the well-being you can feel, and the landscapes
You’re confronted with, and for me it’s not so much the landscape as the climatic events like rainbows, a sunset, clouds that position themselves in a certain way, a passage of seagull, plovers, and in fact all these events which are small and which can be everyday but magical at the same time,
Because what counts is the nose, everything that scores points in the competitions. So I’d tend to think that we’re showing it in a very divisive way and it’s not a bottom turn that’s going to have an impact on my life, ultimately it’s
more about being able to couple this sporting orgasm with the pleasure of the flora and fauna around me. And I think there are lots of ways of showing surfing, and at the moment we’re maybe at 25% of what we can show.
I don’t know if the Olympics will give the sport more credibility, but is it going to be another sport like sailing, for example, because it’s complicated, because certain conditions aren’t met, because we’re going to be in a natural environment,
So the question of wave pools is bound to come up. Or is it just another sport that will have appeared once, twice, three, four times at the Olympics and will disappear, that will have had its moments of glory and like
Some martial arts that have been there once they won’t be there a second time, so I don’t know, I think it’s too new for us to have any influence, especially as the people involved were those of the World Tour, so in the end there was no opening up.
We were still with the same people, so it was just another competition, which may have opened it up to more people socially speaking, but given the timetable for Europe, I don’t think it hit the mark.
We’ll see about the next Olympics, but if we go as planned for the next Olympics on a wave like Theahupoo, it’s out of reach for the average person, so at some point
It’s out of reach for the average person, so at some point it’s just the elite of world surfing who can afford to go on that wave. It’s just a monumental wave that scares a lot of people who realise what a mass of water it can be.
There are even fewer people who have surfed it than those who have seen it… It’s not like, without denigrating the tatami, it’s not a tatami, you can’t apprehend it, the next second it’s not the same. Let’s not forget that surf culture is still very young in Brittany.
It’s navigating between the boom in surfing, the appeal of brands and good publicity. However, the culture of independence of our Breton friends is infused into the culture of surfing, and this allows it to detach itself from all that.
Mediation, sharing and the richness of all these scenes are gaining ground over sporting excellence, which is less suited to this territory and requires constant adjustment. What’s more, it can learn from the mistakes of other regions that have let multinationals take over their local culture.
This construction and this curiosity, I think that’s what needs to be developed. Whether you come up with your alaïa project and we discuss it, whether we talk about the type of wood used and other choices we might make and whether
Other people are going to advise you and you’re going to discuss these points with them, I think that whether it’s alaïa or surfing or women’s surfing or surfing in general, I think that what needs to develop is benevolence and curiosity. Being curious about what’s out there, making plans,
Being daring, that’s also important, for example. If we talk about female shapes, we apologise for not being able to mention their names, . but ultimately we also want them to push us and dare to create projects. That’s all I ask. A girl who tells me “I shape”, it’s great, it’s really cool.
But as I would say to the guy who walks through the door, he’ll tell me “I want to set up a shapes workshop, I’m doing projects”, Let’s talk, get closer to the craftsmen who are next door or
The guys who have tried to do projects, that they still have them, or the boards that are in in the car parks, “why do you have this, why do you have that, who did this, who did that”.
That’s what surfing is all about. Surfing isn’t about what happens in the water, it’s about everything else. Locally, I’d like the cultural aspect to be a bit more present. I’d like to see more exhibitions, events and meetings, not necessarily under the guise of festivals.
I’d like to see a group of young people on the coast doing a fanzine for 6 months and then seeing that 3 months later, at the other end, there’s a painter doing an exhibition in a restaurant. Amateur stuff, that it meets a little outside the water, that it generates
A little more events, friction outside the water. What I’m afraid of, and I don’t think it’s going to happen tomorrow, is that as the water rises, the maps will be reshuffled. So maybe some new spots will appear, but in the end, we can’t
Be sure that tomorrow it will be complicated to get to a spot, that we won’t have enough gas, that a whole bunch of notions linked to the collapse will prevent us from practising this sport. And in the end, why not listen to nature, which has reclaimed its rights.
But it’s true that when we talk about rising water levels, I can’t help thinking that the water level will have an impact on the wave that breaks in such and such place, on such and such rock, at high tide, at such and such coefficient.
Going back to the roots, to what’s essential, to the soul in fact. It’s not just the sport and the technique, but the soul, the soul of surfing. But we live in a society where you always have to perform,
Be competitive and all that, so it’s hard to get away from it all, forget about it and get back to the very essence of what we are, of what the ocean is. And the Alaïa, in my view, opens up this path.
It’s not just about gliding, it’s about understanding everything around you, especially the ocean. That’s what it’s all about. For me, the ocean is the basis of everything. After the ocean, there’s the wave, there’s the glide, but first it’s the ocean in its entirety.
I’m interested in adaptive sports, and not long ago I took part as a volunteer in an adaptive sports session to make sure everything went smoothly. I have the impression that there was no curiosity at all about people with disabilities going into the water with boards, you know,
Like when I saw the people around, I didn’t see any looks that were there. “Did you see that? Incredible.” So these sessions are quite punctual because of… for the safety, for the supervision anyway. But I know that the colleagues who did it there, it was the
First year they were doing it, so the second or third time. So it was quite new on the spot, it was at La Torche. And yeah, I watched a bit of it, you know, because
I always try to look at it with a bit of a critical eye when I see things related to surfing. And I was quite pleasantly surprised by how natural it all went. We can also highlight the creation of a wave reserve at the Côte Sauvage
In Saint-Pierre-Quibron, instigated by surfer Erwann Simon and the Hydrodiversité association. A first in France, the reserve protects this natural site from human construction and preserves the existence of these waves and their adjacent environment. In short, Brittany’s surfing culture is thriving on its day-to-day problems,
And this is enabling it to tighten the bonds between its contributors. Divide and conquer, as the old saying goes. Here, the tendency is to unite to enrich. The regional scene is writing the pages of its future by taking advantage of its diversity.
Surfing as a remedy for big words and culture as a weapon against a stifling industry. What a story. I warned you, didn’t I? I was clearly naïve at the start of this expedition, but it opened a lot of doors for me in terms of understanding surfing, its territory and its issues.
This film has allowed me to take a critical look at the French surfing scene, which I frequent the most, by meeting the people who live it and broadening my point of view. I also wanted to explore all the specific characteristics of this region, with its strong character,
Where information and stories are passed on orally from one beach car park to the next. Thanks to the specific nature of its territory and its maritime culture, Brittany embraces the world of surfing in an unprecedented way. The diversity of its coastline, its waves and its craftsmen point the way forward,
Making cohabitation possible by revealing the differences. And by revealing, I mean being aware of the collective strength of an apparently individual practice. To make this possible, we need to create interaction, in real life, in sporting and cultural events.
But as we’ve seen, if there’s one thing that’s struggling to evolve, it’s competition. The format could be diversified, with more diversity, less objective criteria for assessment, or even by encouraging a form of sport that is more in harmony with its local area.
For example, a fixed date is set for a competition on a specific beach, and the surfers are judged on their ability to adapt to the conditions in real time. The choice of board would be highlighted, as would the local shapers, and we could take advantage of each season.
Representation would be much broader and would put the spotlight on scenes that are overwhelmed by the legendary spots on the world tour. Why not also create gatherings around a specific territory, where mediation and culture would be the big names on the bill ?
Sponsors could support the emergence of craftsmen, artists and designers by giving them a high profile at sporting events. Exhibitions on the history of surfing could also be generalised, making it easier to access and understand. Exhibit pieces from private and public collections,
And I can tell you there are some great resources. In short, make these events a real movement in the surfing world, with a positive impact on those who live it. Get this culture out of the shaping rooms and targeted events,
To put an end to this “self-centeredness” of which surfers are ultimately the victims. Lastly, as we’ve seen, surf culture in general is in a perpetual state of renewal. We abandon old techniques for a while before coming back to them and making them our own.
And the Alaïa is a good example of this! I must admit, I’m hoping to inspire some people to build and surf their own. You don’t need any complicated equipment, and it’s a lot easier than making a synthetic surfboard.
I’ll be the first to come and see you if you’ve got one under your arm at the beach. OK, so I sound like a super confident guy, but I’ve got to tell you : I ended up breaking the Alaïa a few months after my trip.
And yes, all good things must come to an end. But I was somewhat expecting this breakage. Poor positioning at the end of a wave and a wooden board that lost all its suppleness as it dried out in my flat, it’s not a good combination. But don’t worry, I’ve since repaired it.
My Alaïa now sits proudly in the middle of my living room, and it makes a great story to tell. From a designer’s point of view, I can only encourage people to experiment with making things, and not to be afraid of going the extra mile.
The craftsmen and designers I’ve met have taught me a better understanding of wood, and they’ve opened my eyes to the different stresses that the material will undergo over the course of its life. From a surfer’s point of view, I can only encourage people to take an interest in these
Objects, which can be as complex as they are frugal, as well as being great fun to surf. In this case, it was the shapers who explained information about water circulation that I hadn’t understood. They consolidated my knowledge of the materials that can be found in a surfboard.
In the end, that’s what learning by doing is all about. Analyse, meet, make, test, fail, start again. It’s a learning process that’s already got me thinking about the next board. And like so many others before me, I intend to continue to scrutinise this Culture Houleuse (swelling culture),
Adapting it to my territory, always on the lookout for the unexpected and new waves.