Working as a photographer you get to walk the fine line between chaos and order. Taking time to plan in advance to eliminate risks and unknowns, while embracing the chaos that creative work thrives in, and the not so predictable worlds of Skiing and Mountain Biking. The Banff Photographer Shootout epitomized the conflicting worlds of (dis)organization in the life of a ski photographer.

A little background on the event: this was the first year of the Banff Photographer Shootout, a competition where you have 7 days to shoot, edit, and create a slideshow, which is then pitted against 5 other photographers. (Same idea as Deep Summer/Deep Winter in Whistler)

24 Hours before the competition started: Every rider, assistant, location, carefully planned out to work efficiently with people I wanted to, in the places I wanted to. Itinerary set. Then:
-35 wind chill in Calgary
The worst avalanche conditions in 30 years.
Highway closures adding hundreds of kilometers and many hours to traveling times.
Equipment acting unpredictably from extremely variable temperatures and humidity levels.
Riders getting injured.
Melting Levels near the peaks of lots of mountains.

Its events like the Banff Shootout that remind you, no matter how well you have a shoot organized, a team’s ability to act spontaneously, and create innovative solutions on short notice proves to be more valuable. Through all the madness my team of athletes managed to pull off some great work, and our slideshow won the event. Although I’m the one behind the lens pushing the button, the creativity, positive attitude, and skill of each of the athletes determined our success.

More pictures from the slideshow night, and some of the competing photographer’s slideshows Click here

Returning to skiing after a 23 month injury-waiting-surgery-recovery has been a really joyful experience. To keep myself from going stir crazy over the past two years I’ve been delicately managing my relationship with the winter season; doing everything I can to be around the sport and culture by shooting urban, going to Freshtival, and religiously watching great winter content online. However, at the same time I’ve consciously made an effort to avoid imagining and visualizing myself skiing: it was just too painful to see it in my mind’s eye, while being unable to actually ski.

The last week has i’ve been doing the gypsy transient skier thing; living in a van, hopping resorts, bagging turns, and making images. If you aren’t following me on twitter you might not have known, other than the absence of blogging. Over the last week I’ve found myself on couches and in parking lots in Revelstoke, Abbotsford (to ski at Mt. Baker), Victoria, and finally Whistler before a night drive back to home, warmth, and a real mattress in Calgary.

Other than a single day skiing some impressively deep snow in Fernie, this trip was my triumphant return to the winter wonderland we have the privilege to engage in and play with. Suiting I found myself living a bit of a ski bum dream; chasing snow around the province, embracing mother nature’s chilly side, and most of all sharing the experience with great passionate people.

For any culture to develop vibrantly there are some key ingredients; the activity and ideas people identify with, the environment within which they interact, and the people themselves. We’ve all heard and talked to much about the sport we call ours, and the mountains we get to play among, but for me on this trip it was the people who made the impression. Passionate people.
All the Writers, Photographers, Skiers, and Snowboarders, and that guy who sent the burly line. -Of course there was the one snowboarder taking his perceived superiority too seriously as he hurled obscenities at me, but he’ll always be there so stop worrying about him.- Thank you to everyone in our sport, for your dedication to the people, environment, progression and movement. This trip, every trip, and every day I have the opportunity to share with you is a privilege.

Several months ago I was contacted by Ian (below) from the Aidrie based band To Die For. They were looking for some new promo images, but didn’t really know what type. The key point was that the group really had to be different; something you don’t see every day. On some projects you can look around for inspiration; finding some feature in other people’s work to generate images with a slightly different approach. But for TDF the main instruction I was given ruled out that type of creative process.
Instead I took a look at the types of images I look forward, think about, and work on the most. They are often quite technical in nature, and take different photographic techniques from different genres of photography. The end result is above: star trail/long exposure shots which are usually done with landscapes married with portraiture.

I also got called in by Fall City Fall, a great Calgary band who I’ve had the pleasure to work with many times before. This time the band gave me almost 100% creative control which was great, however intimidating. You have no idea if they have hidden expectations of any sort, and if you are aligning with what they’re secretly hoping to get. We shot just outside their jam space which backs onto an industrial area of town, the industrial card has been played many times before in band photography. But with a couple tweaks of perspective and lighting the product is a new take on a classic theme.

Gallery
“Autumn is the most fleeting of the seasons but also one of the most rewarding to photograph. Reuben Krabbe shares his 1/400th of a second views of autumn.”

Singletrack magazine’s November issue features six of my Images from shoots I did with Kurt De Freitas this autumn.

Funny little anectode from shooting: Half of the shots were done out on some multipurpose trails out near the town of Waiparous. I previously scouted the trails and knew I had to come back to shoot them when the colours started to turn. When Kurt and I got out on the trails we found them in less than stellar condition; the previously buff singletrack now was rougher than bad cobblestone. September rains had softened the trails, and horse riders rode the trails in less than optimal conditions. The hoof prints dried into rock hard rough patches making the riding incredibly difficult.

Thanks to Kurt for the riding in all the shots, and for making riding rough trails look beautiful.