93 Til

Introduction | 10

1990–93 | 10

There were virtually no skateparks to speak of. Nobody was there to remind us that smacking your head on the pavement might mean you had a concussion, or that a broken ankle might need more attention than a cup of ice from McDonalds.

S

eems like another lifetime, but skateboarding back then felt like the sort of thing that only the weird, hyperactive kids were into.

When you’re young, following your dreams comes naturally. If you’re lucky, you end up being surrounded by other kids who share those same dreams. I remember how comforting it was to be around other kids who loved skateboarding... a feeling that was mutual even if you were the worst skater in your crew.

I think that’s part of what makes skateboarding so unique…those fragile dreams you have as a kid are preserved and remain intact even if they weren’t based in reality. Many of us who grew up skateboarding end up “dreaming” well into adulthood, long after the kid in most us is gone.

In the early ’90s, during a time in my life when most of the kids that I knew in high school had just gone away to college, my friends and I were squeezing into cars on moment’s notice, headed for California with less than 200 bucks in our pocket…and no real plan to speak of.

While our peers were carefully plotting out their future, we were busy trying to figure out where we were going to crash on any given night thousands of miles from home.

We stole gas to get to skate contests four states away, slept on stranger’s floors in sweaty clothes using a skateboard as a pillow, ran from cops and security guards kicking us out of every decent place to skate.

But for us, nothing else mattered. Nothing mattered except being able to skate, find a new skate spot, hang with your friends, maybe get a decent meal or get a few free boards if you were good enough and knew the right people.

We all felt so alive and we were truly having the time of our lives.

The sports the other kids played when I was a kid seemed as though they were designed with the goal of conformity in mind. There was a clear structure, a team, a referee, a court, a field, a point system, or something compulsory that allowed each kid’s skill to be evaluated. They put you into leagues, skill levels, labeling some kids “winners” and other kids “losers.”

Success could be measured, breaking the rules was rarely tolerated and setting and achieving goals seemed like the primary guiding principle.

So for me when skateboarding came along it tapped into my internal sense of rebellion.

Meanwhile, it was something that ignited utter confusion for most non-skaters, leading to ridicule and demoralization. People couldn’t understand it, they couldn’t put it in a box or measure it, and during that particular time in skateboarding, to most people it looked pretty pointless. Our clothes certainly did.

But skateboarding’s strength has always been in those kids who reject convention, learn to problem-solve, and challenge conformity and authority.

Skaters were left alone to evolve without a limitation, to flourish, to adapt to any and all unforeseen challenges. The result is a culture built on a foundation of what matters

most to kids. What an 18-year-old skater thinks is cool is essentially the only thing that matters, and since there are no rules and no definition of what it means to be “the best,” skateboarding is immune to the influence of what non-skaters think it should be.

Its easy to see why skateboarding has become so influential to culture on a global scale. In fashion, art, and music...because whether it’s what we wear, how we talk, what music we listen to, the art we create, or just the way we push down the street. Skateboarding is that rare language borne from a kid seeing something inspiring in a staircase, a marble plaza, or a raised slab of concrete that you walk past every day without a second thought. Skaters see what nobody else sees: an un-shackled world of endless possibilities that emerges with each new generation.

As a photographer for the last three decades, I see my time in skateboarding as the body from

which my confidence and creativity to become an artist was sparked, and it’s been an incredible journey to say the least.

Over the years photography has taken on a deeper meaning and function for me. It’s a way to communicate, a way to express something that doesn’t come from conscious thought or spoken words. What started as a way for me to express my passion for skateboarding evolved into an outlet for something deeper and more personal, a way to tackle my emotional needs, a visual language, an outlet for feelings and thoughts that I struggle to put into words.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from skateboarding it’s that no matter what you do, do it with passion.

1990–93 | 14

Skateboarding arding has influenced every decision Skatebo

and every perception I've ever had. ThIings I've

dode_done 20 years later come from that same attitude of.....

XXXX “HeyY

“Hey

I’m the guy who tries stuff, falls on

his face and gets back up.”

---Andy Howell

1990–93 | 38

Pe p,

It’s been more than 15 years since you left us, forcing all who knew and loved you to replay all the shared times together over and over searching for some additional detail or nuance in the memory, helping to make it more permanent in our minds.

—Andy Stone

I was one of the lucky ones who got to call you friend, business partner, inspiration and idol. The day you taught me how to ollie up on the knee high box, I knew there was something exceptional about your talent. Those days exploring DC, then exploring the world as teammates; then laying it all on the line leaving Element to do Capital with me. Those are some of the fondest memories I have of that era. Watching you push the envelope of innovative tricks, all done with impeccable style, made it difficult to consider myself as a professional skateboarder, like you.

There’s no telling where you’d be

these days had your time not come so soon.

I can say one thing for certain, you’d be making someone laugh, someone jealous, someone encouraged, but generally making the world around you a little bit brighter.

D e a t h is really only hard for the living. I’m incredibly thankful for the limited time we got to spend together and even though for me, skateboarding and sharing all those amazing experiences seems like a lifetime ago, your influence on me lives on and I will continue to relive those memories looking for new details to help them maintain the tests of life and time.

Miss you my friend

Pep Martinez | Washington, DC | 1993

!

1994–97 | 64

left Geoff Rowley | Copenhagen, Denmark | 1995 right Jason Dill | San Diego, CA | 1994 next Charlie Wilkins | Cambridge, MA | 1993

1994–97 | 78

Pepe Martinez only ever talked about us hooking up one skater on Underworld Element, and that was Stevie.

Stevie was from a really rough neighborhood where the people he lived around were into some super sketchy stuff and really didn’t have a clue what skateboarding was about.

I remember the first package we sent him, a big box of boards and gear, and his mom must have flipped out when it showed up because I got a call from his mom saying…

So I said: “Mrs. Williams, your son is an amazing skateboarder, and we wanna give him skateboards to ride.

We wanna sponsor him.”

—Andy Howell on Stevie Williams

previous Andy Stone | Washington, DC | 1996 here Stevie Williams | Philadelphia | 1995

1997–99 | 140

August 1999

Cairo didn’t mention what exactly he wanted to do when we left the house. We were roommates at the time, Ewan Bowman lived there too.

So when Cairo, Ewan, and myself got in the car to drive across town to the Presidio, we didn’t have any idea what exactly Cairo had up his sleeve. We pull up and start walking towards the silver 7 stair rail that’s 10-15 feet to the left in this picture (the one that people usually

skated at the time), Ewan and I were both thinking he wanted to skate the rail, but then Cairo points to the wall that nobody ever looked twice at and says something like: “What do you think?

You think I can frontside nose slide it?” Ewan and I looked at each other with this confused, blank stare…

I think Cairo was the only one to ever skate that spot.

—PT

Cairo Foster | San Francisco, CA | 1998

1997–99 | 144

The first thing I think about when I look at this picture is the heartbreak, and then the next thought is that we should have shut down THINK the day he died.

Phil was the original all-terrain skater.

He didn’t look like a street skater when he skated vert, and he didn’t look like a vert skater when he skated street…

He was a skateboarder.

Phil’s style was ridiculous, it was like watching Hosoi and Gonz mixed together.

He had his trucks super loose, so when he landed tricks he had this little swerve that was so stylish. There was no separation between his board and his body. Style, grace, technical…Anything and everything you wanted in a skateboarder, he was it.

We had a little falling out shortly before he died. But then we reconciled, and the night before he left for that trip when he died he stayed at my house. He knocked on my door in the morning when he was leaving and I said I love you.

August 22nd 1998…My world shattered, I don’t think I’ve ever cried as hard since.

—Greg Carroll

left Phil Shao | Palo Alto, CA | 1997 right Phil Shao | London, U.K. | 1997

1997–99 | 148

Watching A r t o take that gnarly slam in the FLIP video where he’s throwing up and gets taken away to the hospital didn’t actually freak me out. It was almost more inspiring, just seeing someone go that big, take gnarly slams and be able to get up and still get out there and go big.

I a l ways t h o u g ht t h i s g u y is just such a beast.

— Nyjah Huston

Arto Saari | San Francisco, CA | 1998

1997–99 | 150

My friends who didn’t skate were a big influence on me. How I dressed, the music I listened to…those guys showed the inner city skater kids like me how to think outside the box of what skateboarding was at that time.

my position was very east-coast minded, so for me it

Coming from Philly,

was always about style, trick selection and originality. Looking back I think we knew we had something special, but we just didn’t know how special it was.

— Stevie Williams

Stevie Williams | San Francisco, CA | 1998

2000–04 | 224

’93 til A Photographic Journey Through Skateboarding in the 1990’s With this year’s 2020 Summer Olympics hosted in Tokyo, Japan, skateboarding will make its Olympic debut; augmenting both park and street competitions for men and women. As this book is a culmination and photographic collection of the past three decade’s growth of skateboarding throughout the US, the addition of this sport in the summer’s upcoming games is of considerable relevance to the skateboarding pioneers featured in this work.

To be a skateboarder today is a much different experience than it was for much of the 1990s. The photographs, quotes, and anecdotal text in ’93 til captures a time in skateboarding when making a livable income as a professional skater was a luxury and public understanding of skateboarding was at an all-time low. It was a time when skateboarding was searching for an identity, a time before Instagram and big corporate influences.

Street skating was coming of age, testing its limitations and aligning itself with a new and innovate style of hiphop culture that was emerging. Looking back, many skaters today feel as though the ’90s were the golden years of skateboarding. ’93 til is a captivating portal into a decade and a culture that is remembered with warmth and nostalgia. Much of the photography that Pete has unearthed for ’93 Til was buried in boxes for close to two decades and hasn’t never been seen or published before. The 250-page book also contains several timeless images from his years shooting for SLAP and Transworld Skateboarding Magazine that will be familiar to the initiated. In addition to his stunning action shots are plenty of portraits and unguarded, candid moments that span from the late ’80s up through 2004. The book reveals a raw, unapologetic perspective of a world that no longer exists.

ISBN: 978-1-951541-18-7 56000

9 781951 541187

Also included in the book alongside Pete’s imagery are quotes and anecdotes from legends like Tony Hawk, Arto Saari, Jamie Thomas, Guy Mariano, Nyjah Huston, Geoff Rowley, Stevie Williams and others. Pete moved on from his career in skate photography in 2004 and is currently living in Brooklyn.

AUTHOR In a photography career spanning nearly three decades, Pete worked as senior staff photographer for Transworld Skateboarding Magazine and contributing photographer for SLAP and Skateboarder Magazine. Pete has photographed many of the best skateboarders in the world, during a time in the ’90s that some call “the golden era” of skateboarding, before leaving the skate industry in 2004.

After re-locating to New York City in 2008, and assisting Danish fashion photographer Anders Overgaard, Pete’s work made a pivotal shift, exploring a more nuanced, spontaneous feeling. His current work focuses on capturing candid moments that communicate a spirit of honesty, and authenticity. Pete currently resides in Brooklyn NY. SPECS Trim: 9.25” x 12” Portrait Extent: 250 pages Binding: Hardbound ISBN: 978-1-951541-18-7 World Rights: Available Price: $60.00 MRSP Season: Early Fall 2020