Vladimir Film Festival

Aymer­ic inter­view for MIMPI 2017

11 / 2017 / Interview

Aymer­ic Nocus / Photo Henry Kingsford

Here is the inter­view from MIMPI fest­iv­al where they talked with Aymer­ic about skate­board­ing fest­ivals and films, cul­tur­al exchange and about the two films he will exhib­it at Mimpi.

Q: This will be your first time in Brazil, what do you expect from Mimpi and Rio de Janeiro?

A: I will be stay­ing in Rio for a pretty short time so obvi­ously I won’t get to check out the whole immens­ity of the city and everything its cul­tur­al her­it­age has to offer, but I’m really look­ing for­ward to catch­ing my first glimpse of it and hope­fully soak in as much inform­a­tion as pos­sible, and exper­i­ence just as many of the won­der­ful sights, places and people the place has to offer. About Mimpi, as a fan of skater-cur­ated events I am really look­ing for­ward to see­ing how you guys run yours, and most espe­cially how you tackle (and cel­eb­rate!) the more inde­pend­ent aspects of the cul­ture; I’ve heard many appeal­ing stor­ies about you guys’ take on it!

I feel like this is going to mark an import­ant and uplift­ing moment of cul­tur­al exchange, and make a lot of skate lifers aware of even more dimen­sions to the art of skate­board­ing than they thought it comprised.

Really can­’t wait to get to meet, dis­cuss and skate with every­body I’ll see there. Thank you for hav­ing me!

Q: Do you have any links or know­ledge with the Brazili­an skate­board? Skaters, pho­to­graph­ers, dir­ect­ors, storytellers, etc.

A: In Europe, a lot of people hear ‘stor­ies’ about Brazili­an skate­board­ing but in real­ity, geo­graph­ic­ally the lands are so far apart that a lot of the fun­da­ment­al essence gets lost in trans­la­tion and it’s hard for Europeans to fully grasp the little details mak­ing the scene in Brazil — you get the idea of how gigant­ic and heav­ily loaded with his­tory it is, but — espe­cially when there’s a lan­guage bar­ri­er — it’s hard to track down names! Of course I always knew about the most fam­ous pros who even­tu­ally claimed inter­na­tion­al fame ie. Bob Burnquist, Rodrigo TX or more recently Tiago Lemos but I’ve been talk­ing with Dalmo Roger a fair amount last year when he was inter­view­ing me for Vista and he hooked me up the names of many inter­est­ing under­ground legends to check out such as Alex­an­dre Ribeiro, I ended up watch­ing a bunch of Grito Da Rua epis­odes too.

As far as the new­er gen­er­a­tions, I’ve also recently inter­viewed Cot­inz for Live Skate­board Media upon the release of his video ‘Dop­pel­gänger’, and more gen­er­ally, while I can­’t help but be sorry for being a tour­ist I always tend to try and find out about loc­al skat­ing world­wide as much as pos­sible. For some reas­on Brazil is a bit harder to get to, but I’m fas­cin­ated by the his­tory of the loc­al scenes, the people who make them and their respect­ive takes on the love of skate­board­ing — I’m always down for new styles. Also, I’m really hop­ing for at least one flat­ground skate with Fernando Denti…

Q: Tell us more about Stick­ers, the movie that you dir­ec­ted and that will be dis­played at the fest­ival’s com­pet­it­ive show.

A: Quite frankly, fun­da­ment­ally Stick­ers is just an edit of foot­age of me skat­ing but the clips were all filmed by so many good friends of mine who hap­pen to be amaz­ing artists: Zach Cham­ber­lin from SF, Colin Read from NYC, Nikola Racan from Croa­tia, Josh Roberts from Aus­tralia, the great Rios crew from Hun­gary and even this french under­ground skater Tetouf, who is an abso­lute rip­per on a skate­board and could pur­sue a great career but instead chooses to live in the middle of nowhere, so he nev­er gets any cov­er­age — he’s a secluded geni­us. Any­way, I had all those unused clips of me lay­ing around and real­ist­ic­ally they were col­lect­ing dust and nev­er going any­where — they were leftovers or b‑roll — so at some point, last year, I threw them togeth­er as some kind of web part thing, as to try and show­case my friends’ tal­ents behind the lens but also cel­eb­rate my past trips from the last couple of years to places such as Tokyo or Budapest.

It’s a pure skater-styled visu­al col­lage (hence the name “Stick­ers”) and even the soundtrack is skater-made, by my friend Sean Cul­len (who lives in SF, skates for Snack Skate­boards and makes beats under the names MRSEEN / Blu Jeen). Appar­ently you guys liked it so much that you encour­aged me to sub­mit it so I did, but now I do feel awk­ward hav­ing per­son­al skate foot­age of me on the line-up!

Mimpi fest­iv­al visu­al identity

Q: And the unpub­lished doc­u­ment­ary of the Vladi­mir Skate Fest­iv­al that you will present firsthand at Mimpi. Tell us about the record­ing pro­cess and the days at the festival.

A: “Vladi­mir” is the title of my doc­u­ment­ary movie and it’s indeed inher­ited straight from the name of the croa­tian Vladi­mir Skate Fest­iv­al which — as most every­body may have guessed by now — is the film’s sub­ject mat­ter. Vladi­mir Film Fest­iv­al was on its sev­enth edi­tion this last septem­ber and I’ve known its crew for most of the dec­ade, I was there for the fifth time in a row this year. The event is ran by a really tiny crew of people com­pris­ing Nikola Racan (main organ­izer), Oleg Morovic (design­er), Elvis Butkovic (tech­ni­cian), Mar­ina Jak­ulic (PR) and a hand­ful of friends who like to give a hand: Marko Zubak, Iris Mos­nja, Tibor Marko Jak­ulic, Marta Baradic.

It’s very much of a cul­tur­al oddity as it takes place in Fazana, a 3500-inhab­it­ants-small croa­tian vil­lage with heavy polit­ic­al and mil­it­ary his­tory which, in a nut­shell, was just a port to former Yugoslavia pres­id­ent Tito’s sum­mer res­id­ency now turned tour­ist­ic attrac­tion, the Bri­oni Islands, and home to a pair of factor­ies until a few years ago. But it has a skate scene, and it’s organ­ized itself well enough to set up a yearly fest­iv­al attract­ing 200+ people from all over Europe but also the U.S, Aus­tralia, Cent­ral Amer­ica, Asia.

The organ­izers have the firmest pas­sion and drive, and damn body and soul in exchange for their incred­ible (both quant­ity- and qual­ity-wise) inde­pend­ent work that leaves them in debt every year, all the while hav­ing to deal with no acknow­ledge­ment from their homet­own but spite and com­plete denial.

Their devo­tion is com­pletely insane, every year I’ve found myself com­ing I was wish­ing someone would be there to doc­u­ment it, only to even­tu­ally real­ize that every time, besides a few super­fi­cial stor­ies, a hand­ful of pho­tos and a couple of inter­views (thanks to Free and Grey Skate Mag), noth­ing true to the essence of the event would ever really sur­face. So this year I brought a cam­era with me, and asked George Toland from Lon­don, U.K. and Rémi Luciani from Mar­seille, France if they would like to help out with the film­ing, going on the daily skate ses­sions while I was doc­u­ment­ing chunks of the hard labor the organ­izers were put­ting in. Just so you can under­stand how much energy goes on there, the film was filmed in 4 days and I got 10 hours of usable foot­age, from people skat­ing pre-World War 1 fort­resses to all-night-table-ten­nis-tour­na­ment-meet-mini-ramp-ses­sions, and screen­ings of skate films at old gov­ern­ment-owned out­door cinemas in the middle of the nation­al park.

The film was nev­er meant to be ready by novem­ber what­so­ever, until you guys con­tac­ted me to invite me to Mimpi — then I star­ted work­ing on the edit­ing 15 to 20 hours a day, every day, just because I wanted it to show­case it in the con­text of your event; I feel like screen­ing this doc­u­ment­ary at anoth­er fest­iv­al in a dif­fer­ent part of the world is tail­or-fit to res­ult in an incred­ible human exper­i­ence and a sol­id instance of, again, cul­tur­al exchange. I actu­ally still have a few minutes of the film left to edit, and a couple of days left, so I should make it right on time provided that I keep post­pon­ing catch­ing up on my lack of sleep. I just took a break to answer your ques­tions and will go back to Final Cut the second I’m done.

Q: What is a good skate­board­ing film?

A: A film that makes you want to skate ; depend­ing on the sin­cer­ity in your approach, this may prove to be incred­ibly easy to achieve just as much as it may be impossibly hard.