If a skate trick is iconic, you can bet it wasn’t easy.
To document a trick is to present a new thing into a broader context. Every new ad or clip somehow acknowledges what has taken place before it, while having the potential to influence what will come after it. The context of an iconic trick, clip, photo, or skater for that matter, evolves with the passing of time. Whether it be that someone comes and tries a harder trick on the same thing, or that it merely affects the way that later generations will come to approach skating in general—to publish a document of skateboarding is to engage in a conversation with skateboarding’s past and future.
Anthony Pappalardo is one of the forefathers of modern day street skating; his knack for combining technical innovation with an ability to reimagine the ways in which familiar spots can be seen in countless present-day examples. Aaron Herrington is one of the heaviest dudes active today, and is in many ways a descendant of Anthony Pappalardo. The two share an unconventional approach to spots, are both drawn to backside grinds on round rails, and are neither deterred by skinny run-ups nor landings. One can even see traces of Pappalardo in Herrington’s decision, when approached to recreate an iconic photo, not to pick some Thrasher cover from ‘98, or some tired clip from Photosynthesis, but rather to dig up a trick from 2004, whose only footage exists in a pre-Cherry Bill Strobeck YouTube clip from five years ago.
See what Aaron has to say, then think of Pappalardo in some deep recess of Brooklyn, delicately planning away at the surface of some arty, high-end table. Imagine what he must think of all this silly “Back to the Feature” hoopla.