Wavelength Surf Magazine – since 1981

How Instagram Changed Surf Photography

Earlier this week veteran Euro surf snapper Timo Jarvinen shared a quandary with his followers on Instagram.

“For some reason,” he wrote, “I think that today’s surf photography doesn’t have anything to do with a top shelf, peak action. Just standing there and doing nothing seems to be the thing, even better if somewhat blurred.”

“I don’t wanna see any of the surfers just doing nothing when on a wave,” Timo continued. “I wanna see them blowing up because that’s what they want to see, and even more so, what they want to do when riding a wave. Trimming, do you really wanna waste your time watching the best ever trimming? I know I don’t.”

Timo is right. A shot of a stylish surfer in trim often elicits considerably more double-taps on the platform than the sort of lofty air or stand-tall fish-eye barrel shot that were once considered the pinnacle of the genre.

A few weeks prior to this post, Timo posted a photo of Filipe Toledo busting a huge full-rotor that perfectly illustrates the point. It’s the sort of shot that would have once landed a double-page spread or ad shot in a mag, but somehow only garnered a measly 158 likes.

Then there’s the below image of MFeb, which is surely the exact sort of in-trim speed blur Timo is railing against, conversely got a whopping 11.9k double taps.

So what on earth is driving this mystifying trend? We have some theories.

In the pre-Instagram surf media, high-octane thruster-based shredding reigned supreme. Editors of major mags (like the one Timo worked for) would compete to run shots of the biggest airs (usually fly-aways) or the nastiest looking slabs. There was no place for user-friendly lineup shots, fancy footwork on two-footers or cruisey twin-fin speed lines.

Then, Instagram came along and ushered in a shift in appreciation, away from lip flicks and air revs, towards photos that focussed on flow and individual style notes. Images featuring surf craft that encouraged a more creative and distinctive approach flourished on the platform, emboldening the nascent ‘ride everything’ movement and creating a renewed appreciation for logging, twin fins and finless surfing. Such images were also much more relatable to the masses.

It’s unlikely you enjoy watching snowboarding, or golf, if you’ve never actually tried them and surfing is much the same. One of the main reasons we enjoy images and film of sport is because we can match the aesthetic with the sensation of actually doing it. And in surfing, some sensations are more relatable than others.

While most surfers can appreciate shots of big airs and heavy kegs for the skill of those featured, few can actually conjure up the associated feelings.

Whereas almost anyone who’s progressed beyond the whitewash can relate to the weightless sensation of going fast in the pocket. We favour the in-trim images where the surfer looks most casual because we know the moments where flying across the face feels effortless, with our bodies still (as opposed to flailing arms or a hold-on-tight poo stance) is when it all feels best.

While we might be lending too much importance to a fleeting Instagram trend, there’s no doubt this narrow prism rings of a wider shift taking place in surfing. A gradual move away from the thruster-aggro-shred of the late 90’s/ early noughties, towards something altogether cruiser.

Of course, these schools aren’t mutually exclusive. As we’ve often said, surfing flourishes when there’s room for the widest range of approaches and the same is doubly true for surf photography. We can continue to revere the surf snappers pushing the limits, swimming up close or towing in behind at the heaviest waves on earth while also appreciating those well-shot speed blurs and perfectly placed high lines when they pop up on our infinite-scroll.

Cover photo: @bbsbea

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