“You never know how you’re going to end up with your dream job. After graduating from Colorado College, I only knew I wanted to go rock climbing. I was living out of my ’99 Honda Civic and after about a year (slow learner here) I figured out that being on the road wasn’t as glamorous or satisfying as I thought it would be—I found myself really stressed by a lack of purpose—so I got serious about applying to grad school. 

I took the LSAT [the law school entrance exam]. But I really didn’t want to be a lawyer. I told myself that if I didn’t get into any journalism programs, I’d go to law school. That made me work extra hard on my J-school applications, and I think that’s what got me in. It’s good to have a backup plan—especially if it’s one that you don’t actually want to do. 

I grew up on magazines and thought I wanted to write for them, but as I submitted my application to the Journalism School at Columbia University, which I did via pirated internet from a fast food parking lot in Lafayette, Georgia, below a bouldering area known as Rocktown, I checked a box that said “new media,” which turned out to be essentially video journalism. So that’s what I ended up studying.

You find mentors in unexpected places. Living in New York for grad school, I was climbing at the Gunks most weekends. Through that crowd I met Josh Lowell from Big Up and Reel Rock, a production company that mostly makes climbing movies. He was looking for somebody to help produce and edit in Westchester and I signed up. It was bootcamp in this weird dollhouse looking outbuilding in the woods. Josh is super talented and very demanding. He taught me how to put films together for this audience. I feel very lucky to have met him.”

“Taking unreasonable chances is often worth it. I was vastly under-qualified for the first job I applied for at Patagonia. I didn’t get it, but I made enough of an impression that they essentially created a job I was qualified for and asked if I would take it.

Authenticity and realism are impossible to fake. That’s the magic of Patagonia. The creative decisions are always made in the context of trying to do the right thing. The environmental side of Patagonia is real. The founders are radical environmentalists. Yvon Chouinard once said of the company’d voice, ‘it will offend, and it will inspire.’ It’s very human. And that’s what we strive to do with our storytelling. Patagonia is known as the brand that has stayed true to itself for a reason. It’s because there are standards that are honored. That’s the company’s power.

There are two things that make a great film of any length: If you have a great character to build a narrative around, that’s step one. In documentaries, there’s nothing like charisma to drive a story. But finding a story that has to be told now is also vital. It has to be the right place and the right time. At that point, the story is unfolding and revealing itself and as a filmmaker you are bearing witness. That’s how to capture emotion and change.

Story selection harkens back to journalism, too. We want stories that are relevant and useful. I send this dumb list of questions to filmmakers pitching projects pretty regularly: ‘What can we point a camera at? What’s going to change during the course of production?’

We have a mnemonic device called The Five Cs: Character (who?), Context (why now?), Conflict, Climax, Conclusion. We want every pitch to have those elements, but that doesn’t alway happen and that’s fine too. If three out of the five are strong, you can have a successful story. But if you have everything, it’s a win.

Bring the passion. If you’re passionate about the same things as the people around you, that’s when the best work gets created.

There’s no shortcut to properly capture the gritty realism that has always been Patagonia’s visual feel. Whether it’s a documentary narrative or a more commercial project, our preferred approach to filmmaking tends toward verité. We want to capture something that’s actually happening. Acting is verboten. And we don’t mess with makeup or other kinds of artifice in film. The set comes together on its own on the eighth day in the backcountry, the third day on the wall, somewhere in mile 30 of the ultrarun.

You have to put the field work in to get that type of footage.

The Patagonia audience is becoming harder to reach. Instagram feeds are crammed and the time to make a case to watch meaningful work is shorter. So, we have to work harder. But film is still the best way to make those connections. Emotionally it’s the most effective medium. There’s something that hacks the mind when you combine music, voices, and pictures.

In a way it’s easy to make work that’s right for Patagonia. The vision has been consistent for so long, it makes spotting things that are bogus pretty simple. The hard part comes in knowing when to challenge what we’re doing and the way we’re doing it.”