Creative: Trent Mitchell, How It’s Done

F %$# me. This is how it’s done, and you guys are pissing me off. For the love of all things crap, how can this film have fewer than 2,000 views after being online for 2 years? And how can some YouTube yahoo with no formal training and no decent images to their name have hundreds of thousands of subs and millions of views? You guys baffle me. Not ALL of you, but those I’m referring to…you know who you are. You don’t need a new Godox strobe because you don’t shoot. You don’t need to compare lenses because you don’t use the ones you have. And you don’t need to inquire about what kit Trent used to make these images because you don’t have the skills to even be in a position to make these kinds of images. (I can’t shoot from the water either, at least if I want to survive, so I’m in the same boat as you.)

I would kill to have any one of the prints that Trent shows, and by the way, I’d never heard of this guy until this morning. What’s not to like about this film? It’s about incredible locations, friends, adventure, surfing, the ocean, and PRINTS. This is how you do it. Those look like 17x22s, and I would be proud to have any of them in my quiver. Both the underwater and land-based images are stellar. The “bubble eye” image of Dave Rastovich is, as Trent mentions, a one-in-a-million snap. I met Dave once while working on my “North Shore Journal” project. He was nice. I mean uncommonly nice, especially to a nonsurfer he’d never met in a dirt parking area near Rocky Point. It felt like he had something to say, which was not always my experience with others in that “industry.”

So I looked up Mr. Mitchell.

Books and shows, books and shows. Real photographer alert. When I say “real,” it bugs the online fakers to no end, which is why I keep doing it. Find project, shoot project, edit project, sequence project, print project in book form, exhibit project. Get it? Rinse and repeat. This is the photography world that matters in the long run. I know it might seem like AI is the way to go, maybe streamlining your gear reviews for millions of prosumer men with no intention of shooting anything, but you might want to rethink that. If you watch this film, and see these images, and don’t come out with your undies in a twist, well, you might be dead already.

On a serious note. I do like this man’s work. When I see this film, see the experience they are having, and see those images in print form, my first response is, “I hate him, and why does my life suck in comparison,” but my SECOND response is “Good on ya, mate.” (Peacock gets the assist here, because this sounds like something he would say.) This is why we picked up a camera in the first place, as a translation and connection device to the outside world and the experiences that transcend it. I’ve been at this a long while now, but seeing this film makes me want more than ever before. Not stuff, mind you, just the experience, and if I’m good enough, the images too.

Go check out this man’s site. Books and shows. Earlier today, I was interviewed by another local artist. I told him my goal was to disappear, eventually. I’m not built for the modern world, so forget social and the frenetic noise of online popularity. All I need is a site. Slow and quiet. I also like the fact that it looks like he shoots where he lives. (Trente Parke) I love this. I find Australians do this more, but maybe I’m wrong about that. I say this because so many of my American documentary friends never shoot where they live.

Now, let me turn my attention to Patagonia, the team behind this film. Patagonia is a strange brand, mostly in good ways. They attempt to do things right, and consequently, they catch a torrent of shade for it. That’s the world we live in. This morning, suiting up for a ruck, I put on a pair of Patagonia shorts I’ve had since college, so maybe thirty-two years old. Approximately. I forgot they were Patagonia. They just work. Let all good things; they don’t get in the way, nor do I have to think about them. Like a good camera. Just the conduit between my brain and rectangular bliss. My question is how on Earth does a film like this not have more views? You know me, I know nothing of these things, but it is surprising to me. I also wonder how many people it required to make this film? If someone knows, let me know, because I am a one-man band when it comes to films, which means I’m compromised from the moment I begin. “Alright, people, look alive, I need to speak to the producer, camera operator, sound person, and editor.” Ya, that’s me.”

Stoked. That’s how I feel. In my landlocked, high-desert compound, waiting for monsoon season while dodging the sizeable male bear roaming the area. Stoked to find Trent’s work and see this film. There is something about Australia. Something that feels like home in a way. I’ve been three times but barely know it, but it does feel a bit like the American West of the 1970s. Maybe that’s it. With more waves.