{"id":63180,"date":"2025-08-12T18:35:09","date_gmt":"2025-08-12T18:35:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/63180\/"},"modified":"2025-08-12T18:35:09","modified_gmt":"2025-08-12T18:35:09","slug":"how-photographer-j-d-stroud-captures-surfings-grit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/63180\/","title":{"rendered":"How Photographer J.D. Stroud Captures Surfing\u2019s Grit"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"This<\/p>\n

This shot of Stroud\u2019s shaper friend roaming L.A.\u2019s arts district ultimately became the cover of his book, Candid Observations in Transcendentalism. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

It\u2019d been pissing rain the whole week. Howling November winds whipped through the air, as 10-foot waves swelled under the dark grey skies of Saint-Jean-de-Luz. While most people had vacated the stormy French coastline, indie photographer and filmmaker J.D. Stroud was tucked into the breakwall rocks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou couldn\u2019t even look to see him,\u201d surfer and Lighthouse Skate Shop<\/a> co-owner Spencer Navarro recalled. \u201cHe had his umbrella up, and the tide would just shift so much, he was just sitting in the rocks.\u201d Navarro, Stroud, and a shaper friend were on a 10-day surf trip in the French Basque Country. Navarro, 33, was in the thick of it, surfing through the storm on a custom longboard.<\/p>\n

By the time he and the shaper got out of the water, Stroud was walking to their rental car, with an inside-out umbrella in one hand and a camera in the other. \u201cWe get to the car\u2026 and he\u2019s shaking, and he, like, can\u2019t talk\u201d Navarro recalled. \u201cHis umbrella is just completely upside down, like he\u2019s about to fly away.\u201d When asked what happened, Stroud shivered, completely soaked, and told Navarro: \u201cI wanted to film you guys.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Traversing<\/p>\n

Traversing the beach in Saint-Jean-de-Luz. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

The moment exemplified everything Navarro\u2019s come to admire about Stroud and his work since the pair met at Malibu First Point<\/a> some years ago. Navarro described Stroud as an old-school skate filmer turned surf photographer, and credits him for his unique eye. \u201cJ.D. would always be tucked into these corners, and so far away,\u201d Navarro said, \u201cI just always really liked his approach and his style\u2026 and how it made the wave look.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Photo:<\/p>\n

Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

When I met up with Stroud in Venice Beach, he was calm and unassuming. We discussed everything from his earliest surf memories, to his personal photography journey, and his inevitable immersion into eccentric, non-professional surf scenes around the world.<\/p>\n

He described how, that same stormy week of his 2022 trip with Navarro, he captured a moment that he called one of his most cherished surf memories. \u201cSpencer paddled out on a 10-foot longboard, on a single fin,\u201d Stroud said, stressing how ill-advised longboarding is in that kind of weather, \u201cand God, he pulled into one wave switch-stance, and got one of the most beautiful barrels on a longboard I\u2019ve ever seen.\u201d The clip\u2019s since been immortalized in Stroud\u2019s 2022 surf film, Magenta.<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

As Stroud detailed the events of that trip, his passion and gratitude for all the people he\u2019s met through surfing became increasingly evident. He was adamant about crediting French photographer and filmmaker Vincent Lauzel<\/a> (who he met abroad) for serving as his unofficial Basque Country surf guide. Stroud cares deeply for people, and with work featured in Leica\u2019s LFI magazine, a handful of surf films, and a self-published book under his belt, the California-born photographer is quietly cementing his place in the alternative surf scene.<\/p>\n

Stroud, 34, was shaped by California. He spent his youth roaming Orange County beaches unsupervised, where strangers would hand him boards and urge him to paddle out. At 19, he lived in a cave for a summer, working odd jobs between sessions at Sunset Cliffs. His life quickly anchored around the worlds of surfing and skateboarding. \u201cFrom a young age, I had a serious obsession with documenting things,\u201d he explained. Art Brewer and Taylor Steele were his earliest influences.<\/p>\n

\"Stroud's<\/p>\n

Stroud\u2019s oeuvre is full of wide landscapes. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

Now based in Topanga, Stroud described his subject matter as \u201calternative subsects, cliques, and niches within the surfing diaspora of Los Angeles county.\u201d It\u2019s a wide-ranging group, he explained, encompassing people of all walks of life. \u201cThere\u2019s so many people who congregate together to surf a specific location, who come from so many different backgrounds,\u201d Stroud explained, \u201cIt\u2019s a melting pot of strange characters who all come together to do one thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Photo:<\/p>\n

Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

Stroud\u2019s work amplifies the spirit of the alternative surf scene, taking a warts-and-all approach to capture the ethos and lifestyle of diehards who live to surf. Some might assume that includes WSL athletes, or surfers seeking sponsorships. But Stroud stressed that\u2019s not the world he\u2019s drawn to. \u201cWhen I look at professional surfing, I think, okay, those guys are the absolute best of the best, [they] worked extremely hard to get what they have and to do what they do, and it\u2019s inspiring,\u201d Stroud explained. But as subject matter for his art, Stroud admitted pro surfing doesn\u2019t hold much appeal. \u201cI think I would find it a little boring,\u201d he explained. \u201cThere\u2019s a lot of beaches in California now where you do show up\u2026 and there\u2019s 15 to 20 guys with telephoto lenses, sitting in the exact same spot, taking the same photo of the same surfer. And, to me, it seems jaded.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

The grainy textures and blurred motion found throughout Stroud\u2019s work oppose the crisp, clean aesthetic of commercial surf photography. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

Professional or not, Stroud asserted surfing\u2019s core ideals are universal. \u201cYou go out there, you prove yourself\u2026 you progress, you respect the people that came before you, and you experiment,\u201d he said. But in the water, the pro and non-pro world deviate in terms of style and equipment, and Stroud finds the non-pro world more colorful. \u201cA lot of the more creative, alternative surf world rides things that a professional surfer on the circuit would never ride,\u201d he explained, \u201cif you go to Malibu, you\u2019ll see guys on mid-lengths, with single fins, twin fins, and weird, funky boards they made themselves.\u201d It also comes down to the way these surfers ride. Stroud\u2019s drawn to their style, and enthusiastically described \u201cthe way they lay into turns\u201d on a longboard, or how they \u201cstay in the pocket on the nose.\u201d Beyond that, Stroud claimed what most telephoto photographers fail to grasp is that the culture outside of the water holds equal weight in defining surfing\u2019s identity.<\/p>\n

\"Stroud<\/p>\n

Stroud is drawn to the unique style exhibited by alternative surfers. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

Stroud cherishes the rich tapestry of surf culture, and has become somewhat of a torchbearer for the alternative scene\u2019s raw soul. Stroud\u2019s world consists of surf-obsessed individuals who often have no interest in capitalizing on their passion. Most know the type: local mainstays living in vans perpetually parked by the shoreline. But when he described these surfers, Stroud was quick to point out that just because these people have built their lives around surfing, they\u2019re not necessarily all surf bums.<\/p>\n

Parking lot hecklers coexist among painters, creative executives, construction workers, and drifters who live lifestyles that allow them to stay at the beach for days. Anybody whose job or home life comes second to surfing fits the mold. What Stroud finds beautiful about surf culture is how it blurs socioeconomic lines. He put it like this: \u201cNo classism exists in that community. There\u2019s no polarization that exists in that community. And to me, from an outside perspective, the thing that becomes unfathomable is that that doesn\u2019t exist in a whole lot of other communities.\u201d Stroud\u2019s work captures the chaotic menagerie of the surf culture melting pot, and documents a raw, un-sanitized portrayal of surfing not as sport, but as a lifestyle, practice, and artform.<\/p>\n

\"Testing<\/p>\n

Testing the fences. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

When it comes to still photography, Stroud does his best to serve as a documentarian. He described his style as \u201ccandid and unabated.\u201d He doesn\u2019t do much in the way of post-processing and he picks his moments carefully. \u201cI kind of only choose to use a camera when people are unaware of me using it,\u201d he explained. \u201cI have never really had to edit a photo. I don\u2019t know if that\u2019s bragging, or if that\u2019s naive. It\u2019s just honest photography,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

But because California is painted as a surf Mecca by pop culture, alt surfers are often exploited for their aesthetic, and that exploitation pains Stroud. \u201cI\u2019ve seen a lot of photographers try and handpick surfers and do staged things,\u201d he explained, \u201c[The photo] ends up on a billboard for some huge brand, and that guy never saw a dime.\u201d Stroud clarified that this mostly happens with non-surf brands, but it still creates tension. Sponsored surfers are taken care of, they\u2019re outfitted, or paid to compete. There\u2019s a clear understanding of the exchange: wear the logo, get paid. But when non-pros are used to sell products and aren\u2019t compensated, it speaks to a larger imbalance in surf culture, where authenticity is mined from the fringes.<\/p>\n

\"Trace<\/p>\n

Trace Marshall surfing the south side of the Malibu Pier, winter 2018. Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

His understanding of that tension is perhaps why Stroud takes his role as a photographer so seriously. Though he credits people like photo essayist Trace Marshall<\/a> for creating meaningful work that accurately and ethically portrays the L.A. surf scene, Stroud asserts that it\u2019s difficult to find others who respect the alt scene and attribute that same level of value to their surroundings. \u201cIt\u2019s hard to find people who are actually viewing whatever beach they hang out at the most, or whatever scene they\u2019re in, as something worthy of documenting,\u201d he explained.<\/p>\n

\"Photo:<\/p>\n

Photo: J.D. Stroud<\/p>\n

That search for like-minded surfers and artists is what brought Stroud to Europe in 2022. \u201cEurope, I don\u2019t think it strikes people as the first place they want to go on a surf trip,\u201d which he explained, \u201cmakes a lot of the surf culture there really core and interesting.\u201d French visitors Stroud met at Malibu First Point ultimately pointed him to the Basque region. He\u2019s grateful to have discovered a parallel surf culture that\u2019s populated by photographers like Vincent Lauzel, who place equal weight on surfing as an art form.<\/p>\n

Suffice to say: Stroud, and artists like him, are on a perpetual search for authenticity. They use their art to protect and elevate their lived experience as surfers. For Stroud, photography is preservation. Most recently, Stroud was featured in the fifth volume of Estevan Oriol\u2019s Contagious Culture<\/a> book series. His career is one to watch, and his point of view is essential.<\/p>\n

J.D. Stroud\u2019s Book, Candid Observations in Transcendentalism, can be found here<\/a>.<\/p>\n