Day: September 20, 2020

  • 2020 Executive Director Letter

    2020 Executive Director Letter

    A LETTER FROM OUR EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

    Dear Patrons,

    Thank you so much for attending this year’s festival and for supporting Utah’s mountain community. Over the past six years, we have screened hundreds of powerful films from around the globe. The films we screen and the stories we share expand perspectives and inspire change. Let’s face it; 2020 has been a challenging year. While many events have tested our resolve, there is much to be thankful for, and to give us hope for the future. So rather than echoing all of the challenges WMA has faced in 2020, I want to take this opportunity to share with you how we have harnessed the challenges to expand our own perspective and inspire change within Wasatch Mountain Arts.

    Due to social distancing, we have had to reevaluate how we build relationships with filmmakers, partners, and patrons. While there have had bumps along the way with going virtual, the switch has enabled us to connect with more filmmakers than ever on a personal level. Only a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting with Reed Rickert (Director of The Flip) and Rafael Duarte (Director of Beyond Dreams) in one day. Reed is based out of Mexico City, and Rafael is based out of Rio de Janeiro. In pre-COVID times we likely would not have set up virtual interviews, but I’m so thankful for the opportunity to have connected with them. Connecting with our global audience will become a high priority as we look to the future.

    Going virtual has also enabled us to expand our audience. In the past, only 10% of festival attendees have joined us from outside of Utah. This year people from all over the world are tuning in to be part of the festival.

    What excites me the most is the bright future and opportunities that we have ahead of us. We’re just getting started and WMFF 2020 is only the beginning. Thank you again for joining us as we celebrate adventure and our own mountain culture with films directed by people from a wide range of cultural backgrounds. Enjoy!

    Thank you,

    Stuart Derman

    Co-Founder & Executive Director

     

    Wasatch Mountain Arts

  • Welcome to The Clubhouse

    Welcome to The Clubhouse

    Revitalized Venue Provides Community Space for Artists, Events

    By: Austin Schempp

    Every artist needs a place to create, develop, and showcase their work. Since 2016, Salt Lake City creatives have found that welcoming place inside a historic venue on South Temple Avenue called “The Clubhouse.”

    This year, the century-old, prairie-school style building is home to the sixth annual Wasatch Mountain Film Festival. David Brewer says he’s excited to host WMFF, The Clubhouse’s first film festival since he became co-owner.

    I think [WMFF] is going to be a huge contribution to the creative flow of The Clubhouse,” Brewer says. “We’re super excited. We’re bringing out the biggest screen we’ve got.”

    But if it weren’t for Brewer’s entrepreneurial spirit and desire to grow Salt Lake’s creative community, WMFF would likely be held elsewhere.

    After graduating from the University of Utah in 2010 with a fine arts degree in photography, Brewer organized a group of photographers in need of production space. Together, they launched Photo Collective Studios or PCS. A year later, Brewer and his crew found themselves in an old bar and brothel in Salt Lake City’s Greek district, converting the open space into a rentable photo studio.

    The photographer-only space quickly expanded to host a diverse set of artists and trades—live music, dance performances, events and more. They even hosted a pop-up tattoo shop for SLUG magazine

    As PCS grew, they needed a bigger space. But searching for a new place wasn’t easy. Brewer toured several warehouses and all required considerable renovation. One promising option offered enough room to deserve an offer but other buyers stole it with a more competitive bid.

    Feeling defeated, Brewer contemplated closing PCS and taking his career in another direction until a real estate friend convinced him to check out one last place: The Clubhouse.

    When Brewer and his partner, Jessie Jude Gilmore, stepped inside The Clubhouse for the first time in February 2016, it was so cold they could see their breath. But they also saw potential. The Clubhouse offered space to expand as well as a rich history, proven by its National Register of Historic Places designation. It was perfect.

    The only problem? Twelve offers already stood on the table to purchase the building from Preservation Utah, which acquired the building from the Ladies Literary Club in 2013. Facing a tight deadline, Brewer extensively researched The Clubhouse’s history to produce a 3-minute video. He hoped to show Preservation Utah that PCS had a history of repurposing old buildings in a way that honors the past.

    He searched for any information he could find on the Ladies Literary Club, a women-only club which built and owned The Clubhouse for a century. He found that The Clubhouse was a space where women could self-educate and participate in the arts when university education wasn’t an option. Through his research, Brewer gained a deep respect for The Clubhouse’s status as a community space. PCS had a perfect match.

    “There was no better way to tell [The Clubhouse] story than through images and film,” says Brewer. “It’s always been part of Photo Collective Studio’s brand to honor, restore, and celebrate historic spaces.”

    During their decision meeting, Preservation Utah board members watched the film. At the end, they gave a standing ovation. One member trumpeted, “Can’t we just give it to them?” For three years, Preservation Utah held out looking for an owner who would celebrate its rich history and keep it open to the local community. They found that in David Brewer and PCS.

    Once the deal was finalized, Brewer and Gilmore renovated The Clubhouse. They tore up periwinkle carpets, replaced lace curtains, and refinished 5,000 feet of hardwood floor. 8 Today, The Clubhouse is truly a community space, accepting artists in many forms. It also doubles as a perfect space for events like Wasatch Mountain Film Festival.

    Stuart Derman, Co-Founder and Executive Director of WMFF, recognized how The Clubhouse fit the needs of the film festival from a technical aspect (acoustics, seating capacity). But the space and its history also matched the greater mission of WMFF: connecting communities to valuable places through dynamic storytelling.

    “I’m so excited to partner with Clubhouse,” says Derman, noting The Clubhouse partnership will allow WMFF to add outdoor industry panel discussions and workshops to the festival for the first time. “As a venue owned and founded by artists, not only does this venue meet our spec requirements, but its very existence aligns with our core values as an organization.”

    Meanwhile, Brewer is excited because he knows the potential impact that artistic events, especially a local film festival like WMFF, can have on growing Salt Lake City’s creative community.

    A film festival like this is super valuable,” Brewer says, “especially in a space like The Clubhouse because it creates accessibility between young filmmakers and aspiring filmmakers and the actual cinematic experience.”

    Brewer is also excited for attendees to learn more about the history of The Clubhouse and discover its offerings. Maybe, he says, it will inspire people to create their own work through its programs or rentals, which includes dance classes and the only public darkroom in the state.

    “The Clubhouse is such a unique part of Salt Lake City’s history,” Brewer says. “To this day, many people are still unfamiliar with it. For one hundred years it has served as a mostly private space for the women’s club, so there hasn’t been a lot of opportunity for people to attend events there or to check out a film screening.”

    This week, however, the experience of film-goers is most important and Brewer hopes The Clubhouse will provide a special experience that only a historic building with an artistic background can.

    “It’s one of the best theater experiences in town as far as an intimate space with great acoustics, great visuals,” Brewer says. “My favorite part of hosting events at The Clubhouse is how unassuming the experience is for guests. You’re not showing up to a MegaPlex theater. You’re showing up to a historic home.”

     

    Due to COVID-19 Clubhouse will not be hosting Wasatch Mountain Film 2020. We look forward to having our Festival at Clubhouse in the spring of 2021.

  • An Interview With James Buehler

    An Interview With James Buehler

    By Justin Brendel

    James Buehler is a Park City local snowboarder turned backcountry specialist pushing the limits of splitboarding. His dream is to combine technical climbing with snowboarding, something he calls splitboard mountaineering. Last year, Buehler set out to make Wasatch history as we know it: splitboard the rocky Medusa’s Face line on Mt. Olympus without ropes. And he did. Solo.

    Here’s his story.

    Five years ago, I heard someone had skied the Medusa’s Face Line on Mount Olympus with ropes. I was living in Salt Lake City at the time and was shocked that anyone would go down that face on skis. It was so steep, so out there and honestly out of reach for me at the time. It wasn’t until last year that I started looking into it more seriously. Everything I read and everyone I talked to pinned it as less of a ski line and more of a roped descent that you do with spring-style conditions. No one had ridden Medusa’s Face without ropes on a splitboard as far as I knew. No one would be crazy enough to. But it had to be possible.

    So in 2019, I watched. And watched. Every storm I watched. At the beginning of February, I hiked up myself to check snow depths and see if the line was even possible. The snow was 4-5 feet deep on the face. Pretty ideal conditions. A week later I convinced my buddy to come with me and scope out Medusa’s Face on ropes. 10 rappels, roughly 1000 feet, with even more snow than before.

     

    We went up Mount Olympus’ Apollo Couloir, got onto Medusa’s Face, strapped in, made a few turns and quickly realized all the snow was sliding straight off. Our sluffs were creating mini-avalanches around us, reaching to the very bottom of the couloir. It was sketchy. On the fourth rappel, I slid forty feet on a rock slab and fell over a cliff. My rope stopped me. I would have died without my rope, there is just no way to stop on that face. But I was learning the line. I had to do it in one continuous flow. I wanted to go straight down.

    The Night Of:

    The perfect storm rolled in starting warm and ending cool —everything felt right. My sights were set to ride Medusa’s Face at 8 am on February 23. It wouldn’t be a film thing or even a friend thing – this was a personal project. I had to try. If I didn’t, it would taunt me. So I told my roommates I was going solo. I’d be done by noon. That was that.

    Going Up:

    Knowing the snow in the past, knowing exactly what was on Medusa’s Face, knowing my line to a T, falling once before, I went up knowing it would work out. I climbed Zeus’s chute in an hour and fifteen minutes, checking snow conditions every fifty feet along the way. Everything was perfect. Everything was lining up. The whole experience was meditative.

    At The Peak:

    I got to the top of Olympus very relaxed, but when you’re up there, nerves find their way in: “Are you sure you want to do this?” My racing mind calmed the second I strapped in. That’s the thing—I’ve been snowboarding for so long that it just feels right to be in those boots and bindings. I turned my GoPro on, grabbed my ice axe, and dropped in.

    The Ride Down:

    I took it in. The whole time. My line was steep as hell but I stuck to it—one spine the whole way down. I was flowing nicely and everything felt perfect until the last 250 feet. Snow for the last quarter was not good—only 6 inches deep. My intended line was not where I wanted to go anymore and instead of sticking to a sketchy line, I diverted. I had no idea where I was going anymore, but that’s the adventure I wanted. I had prepared for this—years of thought, research, snow fact-finding—now I was feeling the ride. There’s nothing like that feeling. That’s the pay-off. I was dialed in.

    At the base:

    Still taking it in. My goal ever since I got sponsored has been to inspire up-and-coming snowboarders to get outside of their comfort zones and go for something huge, while being smart. Medusa’s Face was way outside of my comfort zone five years ago. I never thought I would be the first known person to ride this line on a splitboard without ropes. At the bottom, I felt accomplished—I achieved my personal goal. Yes I celebrated, yes I breathed sighs of relief, but I also felt a weight of responsibility. Once the news got out, people would try it. I don’t want the story of my line to gloss over the preparation that went into it. Medusa’s Face is not for everyone. It’s not even for most. Somehow it was for me.

     

    James Buehler is creating a film about splitboard mountaineering using his GoPro footage on Medusa’s Face, material from his traverse of Chiochetti’s Ribbon on Devil’s Castle and shots of boarding iconic Cottonwood lines like Diving Board and Rampage. When he is not snowboarding or touring, James is likely researching the next big line.