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In 2017, Thomas Lodin saw Los Angeles play itself. It was his first trip to the United States, and he was immediately captivated by the city that has long stood as the visual centerpiece of so many Hollywood films, not to mention so much surf photography. “I felt every corner could be part of a movie I’d seen as a kid—a traffic light, a palm tree, a sunset, or an actor I recognized from somewhere,” he says.
If you’ve lived or spent enough time in the area, you understand how the sights that Lodin describes have a way of turning so mundane as to become invisible. Only time away from them, or the opportunity to somehow see them through the lens of a tourist, can restore their beauty into view. This may be why Lodin, a 32-year-old French photographer living in Biarritz, has become such a stark chronicler of the contemporary California longboard scene. Where resident photographers may lose eyes for the essence of the place or render it cliché by way of overexposure, Lodin’s images depict it at its most elemental, often to incisive effect.
Backdoor, North Shore, Oahu.
Clovis Donizetti, a close friend of Lodin’s from Biarritz and one of the preeminent ambassadors between the southern France and California longboard scenes, notes the artistic advantages of documenting the Golden State as an outsider. “When we go to California, the place is quite intense,” he says. “It turns out it’s not this romantic idea of staying at the beach all day. Everyone is in their car drinking coffee, on their phones, hurrying places. Being French, we are attracted to beauty. We see things from a different perspective, from afar, imagining an ultimate vision of what California could be. We see things from outside the bubble. As a Californian, when you’re part of the place, it can be harder to see these possibilities in a wider way. For me, California is the surfing of David Nuuhiwa and the jazz of Stan Getz. If you live there, you have to scratch through many layers to see that, but to us it’s all in the same place. It’s like how going to Malibu is so much different than the movies, music, and art associated with it.”
To establish some artistic precedent for the advantages of observing America as a newly acquainted French documentarian, one need only compare the lesser-known travelogue of Parisian writer Simone de Beauvoir, America Day by Day, with its canonical US opponent, On the Road by Jack Kerouac. On the Road is a character actor’s speed-addled, overly romantic snapshot of the United States, which seems more passé as time goes on, speaking less and less to the state of the country at present. By contrast, Beauvoir’s account of America, written over the course of four months during her first trip in 1947—a decade before On the Road was published—is filled with the piercing insight that comes with seeing the country as a newcomer.
California is a photography playground. It takes me forever to get anywhere because I always pull over to shoot parking-lot scenes and classic cars.
Beauvoir may as well have been describing surf photography (but was actually describing American consumerism) when in a January 29 entry she wrote, “There are a thousand possibilities, but they’re all the same. A thousand choices, but all equivalent. In this way, the American citizen can squander his obligatory domestic freedom without perceiving that this life itself is not free.”
Lodin’s images have a way of escaping the trap of becoming interchangeable commodities. “Thomas understands that the best noseride of the day is still just the best noseride of that day, in that place,” Donizetti says. “The best tube of the day in Hawaii is still just the best tube of that day. Who cares? There have been a million people who can hang ten and more who can post a photo on Instagram to be a ‘photographer.’ But what are they expressing? What are they saying in their work? Thomas isn’t necessarily looking for the most committed maneuver, whether that’s conscious or not. Even photographing great surfers like Robin Kegel, JJ Wessels, or Devon Howard, his work can be more riveting in how it captures their individual personalities and approaches to the wave. There’s a clarity to his view of surfing.”
During his first trip to California, Lodin met LA native and fellow surfer-photographer Dane Peterson. The two became close friends. When the time came for Peterson to hire a staff photographer for his wetsuit brand, July, he could have opted for the convenience of any number of Southern California–based shooters, but he saw something distinct in Lodin’s photography that spoke to a pure experience of surfing that was rarely found among his contemporaries.
As a regularfooted longboarder from France, coming to Malibu is my pilgrimage.The lines, craftsmanship, and attention to detail in this early ’70s Oldsmobile Cutlass are impeccable compared to today’s cars.
“When I came up as a photographer, most stuff was shot super tight and front lit—very much a studio vibe capturing peak action,” Peterson says. “Thomas comes at things completely differently. He lets his images breathe. Even though he came up shooting digital, he approaches things from a softer era of film photography. He’s not just blasting away, frame after frame. He shoots with intention because he wants to create something artistic. His images are not always about the moment or the person. They’re often about creating a feeling and a sensory response. It leaves you to imagine the story surrounding the image. He’s been so influenced by the history of California surf culture, and it’s cool that now he’s contributing to it. Whenever I need photos, he’s the first person I call.”
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If documenting California as an outsider can be considered one of Lodin’s advantages as a photographer, the same can be said of his upbringing on the periphery of French surf culture. Lodin grew up in Nantes, a city in northwestern France, about an hour’s drive to the beach. He got into the thriving local BMX scene as a kid. By 13, he had his first camera, which he used to publish his first photos in BMX magazines throughout his early teens. Red Bull took notice of his work and hired him to cover events in France before he graduated high school. “They started asking me to go shoot during my classes. I’d be in math, telling my professor I had to go shoot photos for Red Bull the next day,” Lodin says. “I knew at that point I wanted to take a path in photography and design.”
Around the same time, Lodin’s older brother started taking him surfing at the beachbreaks within driving distance of Nantes. Lodin’s first board was a broken shortboard that his brother put back together and gave to him for his 16th birthday. “We have really poor waves on that part of the coast,” Lodin says. “When I got my driver’s license, I would go an hour or an hour and a half to the closest spots, and the waves were usually awful, but I’d still get in the water because I had already done the drive.”
With money from his photography gigs, Lodin replaced the broken shortboard with his first longboard, a 9’6″ single-fin. “Getting that longboard was a revelatory moment: This is it. I never really went back,” he says. “I was slowly losing interest in BMX as I got into surfing. I loved the glide and the feeling of freedom and momentum—not needing to do anything to glide. It was the thing I was looking for all along.”
Arnaud Mestelan, paying post-surf respect to Bells Beach, Australia. He paddled out in heavy surf while jet-lagged after traveling 30 straight hours from the Basque Country and got a few good ones.
Lodin naturally turned toward documenting his newfound interest in surfing, and he quickly discovered his love of water photography. “I started shooting with disposable waterproof cameras at our local beachbreaks because I didn’t want to be stuck on the sand. Shooting photos from the water, it never felt like I was missing out on anything the way I did on land.”
After graduating from design school in Nantes, Lodin relocated to Biarritz when he was 21 and has lived there ever since. “I moved without any plan. I just knew I wanted to be near the beach to surf a lot and take photos,” he remembers. “I fell in love with the scenery, the mountains, and the waves, of course. The light is always amazing, and for photography that’s the one thing you need.”
The work Lodin does to support himself as a commercial photographer grew organically as brands took note of his ability to craft images with a distinct point of view. Work from Levi’s, Vans, and Patagonia has followed. Lodin became friends with Donizetti through his time as a staff photographer for Oxbow. When Donizetti was first asked to work with Lodin, he remembered being skeptical. “I said, ‘Really? He’s a bit green.’ Within the first session, Thomas had 50 good shots, and the waves weren’t that great. Oxbow used a lot of those photos. We got along really well and kept shooting together after that.”
Lodin cites the classic surf photography of earlier eras—by Ron Stoner, LeRoy Grannis, and Jeff Divine—as his primary influences. “Those photographers captured the essence of what surfing can be,” he says. “Most of their images are shot from land on a larger scale, but their work feels timeless.”
The composition of Lodin’s photos achieves a sense of timelessness through distinct approach. His images are often backlit, tightly framed, and shot from the water. “Taking photos from the water, you never just get the same moment over again,” he explains. “It allows me to show details that people who don’t surf would never get to see if they’re just standing on the beach—the movement of the water, a surfer’s hand, the placement of feet on a board, a cross-step or trim line.”
Tristan Mausse was already well known for his high-quality glassing and laminating skills before shaping under his Fantastic Acid label. Here, he’s blasting free jazz in his workshop while dialing in vee.
Mausse, on a self-shape during a solid day in the Basque Country. He designed this hull/gun hybrid specifically for surfing bigger waves. The board is 9’6″ × 21 ¾” × 3 ¾”, with a heavy wedge stringer. His handcrafted glass-on fin draws inspiration from Tom Blake’s skeg, Pat Curren’s gun fin, George Greenough’s fin theory, and a touch of Wayne Lynch’s keel template.
Sam Yoon, Parlementia, Basque coast of France. He injured his left hand before this session. He bandaged it, put on a glove, and went for it. He took off on this wave right in front of me with his iconic, fully committed stance.
Yoon, shaping a 7’11” fish. Notice how his shaping stance is the same as his surfing stance. I’m amazed at how people can dedicate their lives to this craft, create beautiful objects, and surf them.
This close view from the water, combined with Lodin’s preferred backlighting, draws subtle details into higher relief. “I would rather shoot backlit all the time, even though I can’t do that working for most of my clients. It comes back to wanting photos to be timeless,” he says. “With backlighting, you can’t recognize the face of the surfer, logos, colored wetsuits, or anything to distract your eye. I’m really into minimalism and stripping things down to be super simple in order to place your focus on the details of the foreground. I hope it helps people project themselves into the image—or even into the role of the surfer in the image.”
Lodin remains filled with ambition to continue refining his craft as a photographer. The next swell, trip, or assignment always holds promise of being the best one yet. “Sometimes it’s hard to choose what photos I love because I’m changing my mind all the time. I’m always thinking about what I could have done better,” he says. “At some point, I have to step back and say, ‘Okay, this work is done. It’s time to move on to the next thing.’”
Dane Peterson, Malibu, California. Sean Tully introduced me to Dane at First Point a few years back, and we stayed in touch. Dane hired me to create imagery for his brand, July Wetsuits. He’s a very talented surfer and photographer, so the pressure to impress was on. It’s been an incredible experience learning from him. You’ll notice I shoot a lot of speed blurs. I love how they abstractly show a surfer’s line on the wave in a way that adds depth, feels organic, and looks timeless.
Mathieu Marechal, San Onofre, California. Mathieu is a super-underrated surfer from Brittany, France. I try to channel LeRoy Grannis when shooting Sano. The white boardshorts, the backlit lip, and the white water give this photo a classic feel. Mathieu’s casual, nonchalant walk to the nose was followed by a solid hang ten. During this trip, we drove straight from LAX to Malibu, then surfed all of the iconic longboarding spots up and down the coast. It made Mathieu want to move to California, but he’s still living in France, enjoying Brittany’s cold and empty points for now.
Brian Bent, San Juan Capistrano, California. Brian was driving me around in his hot rod when he pulled over in this old orange orchard. He doesn’t just study and appreciate traditional surfing history and classic car culture, he actually lives it—definitely one of a kind.
Robin Kegel, in his Bidart, France, shaping bay, inspecting his latest board with an illegal ciggy in his mouth. You can’t see much of the shape, but the light through the window reveals it’s super refined and well finished. Robbie is always on the move, so catching him in the rare calm moment is nice. Kegel, Parlementia, Basque coast of France. You can feel the amount of power Robbie’s putting into this turn. He’s pushing so hard that most of his 10-foot board is out of the water and barely hanging on by the tip of its fin—quite impressive. He’s riding a self-shaped Gato Heroi Szaber model, which is an apt name because he’s using it to slice this wave. Everything Robbie does, whether he’s shaping or surfing, is in another dimension.
Like I said, I love classic cars. This is my 1971 Simca 1301 station wagon, parked at the top of Côte des Basques, Biarritz, France. Hanging out the back is a board with a fin I designed for Deflow. I chose to create a D-fin because I really enjoy riding pig-style surfboards. Also, it looks as lovely on a board as on your table—and it surfs well, too. I shot this photo with film. It could have been taken in the 1970s, but it was taken in the 2020s.
Detail of a fin shaped by Kegel. This fin is the same template as the one glassed on the board he’s surfing on the previous spread. It’s thin and super raked. The timelessness of simple lines—whether in the act of surfing itself, on cars, boards, or, in this case, a fin—means everything to me.
Lola Mignot, Los Angeles County. We’d just finished surfing a fun little pointbreak and were walking back to our car parked on PCH. The sunset created a beautiful pink sky and soft light. The humidity caused the water to stick to the bottom of her board, making a reflective surface. It’s a candid look at Lola.
Clovis Donizetti, Côte des Basques, Biarritz, France. I’ve been shooting Clovis for 10 years. He’s taught me so much about surfing, history, and music. His style is refined, even down to the details. Nothing ever seems out of place. This wave is basically his left. He walks down the stairs from his house and surfs here every day. This afternoon, he was casually hanging five through the crowd.
[Feature image: Tom Morat, Mexi Log Fest, La Saladita, Mexico. The crowd was hectic, and he raced by me in the haze. I was lucky to have snapped this photo with no one else in the frame.]