Recordar é viver...

Praia Brava de Arraial do Cabo (RJ) - 1993 - da esquerda pra direita: eu, fred e caruru. Foto feita pela Cris e enviada pelo Fred.

Nas discussões sobre futebol, a máxima do "recordar é viver" não vale, pois dizem que "quem vive de passado é museu". Adoro quando escuto isso. Mas na vida (futebol pra mim não é vida), recordar pode ser bem gratificante, ainda mais se existe a consciência de que o que passou, passou.

Falta gente nessa foto aí de cima: Raldrei (que aplicou a Brava pra galera), Tim e Bazin. Eu e Raldrei continuamos na ativa (modéstia à parte). Fred, que, ao contrário do que a foto aparenta, não surfava, hoje surfa, lá em Portugal (não deixa o mar nem no inverno). Caruru, que era surfista e skatista, acresentou uma pochete no contorno, e parou de ir atrás das ondas (um dia ele volta, se depender da galera, com pochete e tudo).

Poque, uma das únicas certezas que tenho na vida é a seguinte: o surfe é a verdadeira fonte da juventude. Não sei se alguém já disse isso antes, provavelmente já, mas o digo agora tirando conclusões pessoais, diria empíricas... Alguns usam; outros, espertos, abusam; e muitos, simplesmente esquecem ou não percebem esse segredo, e param. Cada um com seu cada um.

Hoje, estarei lá, no fim de tarde. Não dá para estar em todos, mas nesse eu vou!

Albert Falzon

"We are the measure

of all things.

And the beauty

of our creation,

of our art

is proportional

to the beauty

of ourselves,

of our souls"

Jonas Mekas

(quem é Jonas Mekas? acho que é esse aqui. clica!)

Engraçados os caminhos que nos levam a internet. Apesar de toda baboseira, exposição desnecessária, orkuts, papos íntimos que rolam através das teclas, mas que não se concretizam na vida real (há controvérsias), existem lados positivos.

Hoje, conheço mais profundamente o surfe, pela net; mais em relação a muito do que aprendi durante a época em que era um viciado em revistas. Sinto não perder nada, em conteúdo, pelo fato de não gastar mais um tostão com revistas.

Mal ou bem, as revistas estão na grande rede. E além das revistas existe uma infinidade de sites, que só existem nessas teias, e que trazem muita informação de qualidade.

Julio Adler, que tem uma disposição descomunal para surfar virtualmente, já virou uma espécie de guru (dizem que ele ainda bate na cara das ondas ali na Zona Sul carioca, e eu acredito). E é ele um dos responsáveis pelo meu engrandecimento no conhecimento do surfe, pelo aprofundamento de determinadas questões ou simplesmente pela oportunidade de ver um fato corriqueiro do mundo do surfe ser criticado até que venham à tona suas entrelinhas, seus verdadeiros significados. Ainda que, graças a Netuno, existam as saudáveis controvérsias.

Escrevo isso tudo só para chegar ao ponto de comentar que a primeira vez que ouvi (na verdade, li) falar do filme (FILME, e não vídeo!) “Morning of The Earth” foi no Goiabada; e aproveito para dividir com vocês, meus dois visitantes, que não devem estar lendo até aqui, a minha satisfação de ter feito contato direto com o autor da película em questão, Mr. Albert Falzon, que por generosidade e/ou interesse me enviou a recente edição em DVD da obra, com encarte autografado e tudo. Delírio!

Versão atual da película em DVD.

Tudo bem, isso já aconteceu há algum tempo. Mas, recentemente, recebi a resposta do já camarada (brasileiro é folgado pacas) Albe Falzon ,de um e-mail onde eu pedia uma entrevista, uma espécie de “quem és tu my friend?” “por onde adastes?” “para onde pretendes ir?” “o que tinhas na mente quando fez esse filme desbundante, essa obra cinematográfica dedicada ao alto astral de pegar ondas, antes da era das marcas, das logos...?”. E, não, ainda não tenho todas as respostas (quem as tem?!), mas, já recebemos com exclusividade algumas fotos e um relato dele sobre o início de tudo. Vamos nessa...

Albe Falzon - um pouco do início de tudo...

Albert Falzon - por ele mesmo

O texto segue sem tradução, praticamente como o recebi do próprio Albert Falzon.

Se alguém quiser que o texto seja traduzido, é só mandar uma mensagem através do blog ou direto para claudiodamatta@gmail.com

Me checking out the waves.

Foto dele quando criança, dando uma olhada nas ondas.

Grandfather (seu avô), father (pai) and grandmother (avó)...


...and the first house we lived in.

I lived for the first ten years in the top apartment on the centre house. My grandfather lived on the ground floor. His small garden is behindthe brick fence.

I lived here until i was 8 years old. Sometimes my grandfather would take me to the beachside pool. We travelled in a tram. The air was warm and friendly - it was summer. He loved to swim and would swim for hours from one end of the pool to the other. Gracefully he glided through the water.

Falzon is a maltese name however its source is phonencian. Five thousand years ago they were seafarers. My grandfather emigrated from Malta. He couldn't speak english. He loved music and growing flowers - dahlia's. He could play the piano, violin, harmonica and mandolin. His garden was ten feet by ten feet - everything else was concrete. He would grow dahlia's from bulbs then after the flowers died he would dig up the bulbs and plant them again next year. For the rest of the year nothing grew. The bulbs rested in a dark cupboard. He was kind, soft spoken and gentle.

* * *

Me with Nat Young and Bob Evans who taught me how to use a 16mm camera.

THE BEGINNING: I was always interested in how you could capture the light and beauty of the world. Living near the ocean when I was around fifteen years old gave me the opportunity to view the morning sunrise and the incredible light and colours that occurred during these moments of beauty.

Sometimes only lasting briefly they always left an incredible impression on me. I can understand now why Albert Einstein regularly - almost daily would go to his favourite park and sit and watch the light as it flickered and burst through the leaves of the trees.

I would do this after the sunrise when the early morning light would reflect off the ocean waves. I would spend hours dreaming and watching the beautiful light patterns and textures. It was also around this time that I started surfing. Perhaps to get closer to the light and watch the ocean change as the sun varied it position during the morning. I was always fascinated and sometimes transfixed when paddling through the lip of an incoming wave as jewels of water would just explode - often with the golden light of the early morning sunrise reflected in each droplet.

Even today I rise with the sun - often before to watch the first light rays of the day. It still fascinates me. Perhaps it makes me realise how truly wonderful and vibrant life in our universe is. As surfers we get glimpses of this immense beauty during those early mornings when most people are pre-occupied with mundane activities. If I was born two hundred years ago - and perhaps I was - I would have become a painter to try and capture those treasured moments.

In todays world the camera replaces the paintbrush and easel and in an instant captures the most extraordinary images. My first camera was a kodak box brownie and I very rarely left home without it. Sometimes with my friends we would travel along the coast and find new and exciting places to surf. I would take pictures and record our journey.

==================

Me on the left standing with first teacher - that's my dad in the centre with long trousers.

=========================Early crew - balsa boards. Me on second from left.

==========================

The NEXT chapter...

Bob Evans filming in Africa.

People enter your life often unexpectantly and open the doors of perception. Like hidden angels they appear - to guide and assist you in your journey of transformation. The first was a kind man who taught me how to surf. The second was a man who made surfing films and taught me how to use a camera. Both are dead now, however they live in my heart and I know them to be very much alive through every breath I take.

Images leave a lasting impression. The early films of Bud Browne spoke to me in a way that sealed my path and direction. Images of classic island surf with tropical water and strong trade winds and most of all... fun.

The shore-break waves of Makaha captured the pure joy of surfing. After seeing those images as a young surfer with a new found passion in photography I was left with no other choice - I started to make a surfing film.

Blue Bay - Sepia.

My FIRST film...

I made a 8mm home movie of my surfing friends - in the camera – no editing. Then tried to charge them money to come and see the film. I was small, all my friends were big, they just walked through the door. After that I decided that I would just show films for free.

One of my first (and favourite) surf fotos of phil pearce - classic arch.

===========================

My FIRST work experience...

Terry Gleeson was an artist. He owned a camera shop and smoked all the time. He was the nervous type. He taught me how to develop and print fotos and loaned me a 400mm telefoto lens to take better surfing photographs. After I learned how to work in the shop he stayed at home and painted. We built a darkroom in the back of the shop. When he was at home painting I was in the darkroom. The shop was empty most of the time. People would come in and go. He was painting and I was printing. Soon the shop closed - it didn't take enough money. He died of cancer when he was 44. I posted some of my surfing fotos to surfing world magazine.

===========================

Midget Farrelly at Noosa.

Another early shot of midget at Crescent Head.

Big close out wave at Makaha "69 - the board in the foto is 11'6" long.

SURFING WORLD - Hawaiian adventures...

Bob Evans was a good friend of Bud Brownes. He would go to small coastal towns and screen Bud's films. If the surf was good he would take some movie footage for his own films. He asked me to come up the coast with my cameras and take photographs of the surfers he was filming for his magazine Surfing World... Our first trip was to Crescent Head and Angourie. We also went to Noosa. Midget came along. His style was smooth and flowing. Sometimes he looked like Phil Edwards. I often travelled with him up the coast - my fondest memories are of those crisp winter days - off-shore winds and cloudless blue skies. A slight chill in the mornings and always great waves... long clean lines.

A galera, em Crescent (crescent head).

Abastecendo o carro, em Crescent.

Every winter he would go to Hawaii. Then one year he couldn't and I went instead. He showed me how to use a 16mm bolex movie camera in one hour. I went to Hawaii with David Treloar and 5000 feet of film. It was David's first trip overseas. We stayed on the point at Makaha with Ernie and Evelon Thompson - Sean Thompson's father. He had been eaten by a shark whilest body surfing in Durban in South Africa. His arm was all bent out of shape. Ernie was Seans trainer and helped him to realise his dream. He was a generous man. He smoked too much. Hawaiian waves were very powerful. It took some adjusting for David. One day a hugh surf warning was issued... next day it was fifty feet and wiped out the north shore. The biggest surf for ten years. You could sit on the point at Waimea Bay and feel the ground tremble underneath as the sets closed out the bay. Makaha was the only place rideable. The surf went from eight feet in the morning to twenty feet by lunch time and closed out by mid afternoon. It was a great sight. One night we went to Waikiki to a night club. David accidently opened the car door and almost hit a big hawaiian. He was really angry and chased David around the car trying to catch him. I sat in the car horrified. David was so scared there was no way he was going to get caught. The hawaiian gave up and went on his way... we were both trembling for an hour afterwards... after that David always looked before opening the car door. FIM. VAMOS AGUARDAR NOVAS MANIFESTAÇÕES DE MR. FALZON