CPTMAFIA – ITS ITS ITS FINE
Photography by Rafal Wojnowski (unless stated).
Words by Arthur Derrien
The sandwiches that were just borrowed from the Tesco around the corner instantly get divided up and placed into the hands of the nearest members of the group. One of the recipients notices that his looks slightly bulkier than the others so casually opens it up and transfers some of its contents onto another homie’s wedge before taking the first bite. No words are really spoken during this automatic redistribution of goods – it’s all just standard procedure.
I smile and take stock of the 15-deep posse sprawled out across the London pavement, thinking of their formative years spent jumping the trains to São Paulo together to skate (the trains from the outskirts are called CPTM – hence CPTMAFIA) and how mental it is that five years after we released their first vid (CADE O PÃO) they’re all here sat on a curb 15 minutes from my house, laughing about the previous night’s antics.
Felipe Munhoz, backside 180 nosegrind, London.
Skateboarding and the extended family that usually comes with it have a way of making the world feel a lot smaller than it is, that’s a given, but here most days when we’d meet up at least a couple of the boys would be AWOL from the night before, most of them can’t use their phones unless they’re on Wi-Fi, we’ve stopped and diverted so many times on the way to the “spot” today that I don’t even remember what the destination was meant to be in the first place, everyone’s skint… How are they pulling this off? Like how does anything even get decided?
“Oh it’s hard to make a decision.” Leo Bodelazzi later told me.“I don’t even know how to explain it… We just feel and go with the flow, haha.” So yeah basically they have no fucking clue – but I’ve seen it in action, and it works.
Now it’s not to say they were uninterested in leaving their mark on famous spots, because the photos in this article clearly demonstrate otherwise, but I’ve shown my fair share of skateboarders around this city and the way they’d go about looking for new shit was unlike anything I’d seen before: it was visceral. And in a way it did align with Leo’s explanation of how they function… They’d constantly be interacting with everything around them, eyes darting all over the place. You couldn’t make it five minutes without someone sneaking down a dark alley to climb onto a roof, open a door, or prop up a drain cover. It was hilarious. And of course, within seconds of something getting noticed the rest of the clique would assemble, telepathically understanding the potential of the “spot” when I’d just be standing there extremely confused as to what I’m meant to be looking at. The most comfortable zone to chill and watch the show would then be sussed out by the supporting cast, who would post up at the first hint of a popped tail. Beers, snacks and sometimes even chairs would magically appear. Wax starts getting passed around, decisions are made as to who will do the filming and how, and for that brief moment when someone is trying a trick, time feels elastic, like we’re all just at backyard BBQ at a friend’s house… Then POOF, suddenly it’s high fives and hugs all around, everything is put back where it was, every can and bit of rubbish picked up, spot constructions dismantled and it’s like we were never there. Or at least until it’s done all over again a few blocks down the road.
Wellington De Oliveira, nosegrind, London.
“It’s because London is so big,” Leo added, “It’s easier to just freestyle it like we do in São Paulo, especially when there’s so many of us. With 15 different points of view, we’re always going to find something to skate.”
15. Every time I hear that number I’d picture the size of the squad as we’d be pushing around and think of what that represents in terms of travel and accommodation… I knew New Balance and Class (a clothing brand from Brazil that a bunch of them skate for) sorted the Airbnbs they’d all piled into, but what about all the plane tickets?
Well, that’s when the ultimate example of the whole extended family business I was getting at earlier comes into play. One of the many people out there who want to see this crew succeed is an OG skater from Brazil who owns both a skateshop… And a travel agency!
“None of us really make any money, we just get free stuff from brands.” Leo explained.“If it wasn’t for this guy hooking us up with cheap plane tickets in exchange for shoes, clothes and boards, none of this would be possible. Because that’s pretty much all we had: the tickets and the Airbnbs…
I’m not proud to say it out loud but we had to steal a lot of food.”
Henrique Crobelatti, frontside nosegrind, London.
Now feels like a good time for a little bit of context regarding what it’s still currently like to be a skateboarder in Brazil: minimum wage is theoretically R$1,412.00 a month, but when these guys were talking about how much they’d earn working random jobs out there it was more in the R$1000 range (so €157.60). A pair of Tiagos cost R$899.99. A pair of new Indys R$799. Normal shit we all take for granted like decent wheels are still not easy to come by, and although it has one of the most popping scenes in the world in terms of talent and video output, being paid any kind of meaningful amount of money to skateboard is still virtually impossible if you stay based out there. And it’s not like moving to Europe or America is something that can be done easily either: for those in the crew attempting that right now it’s a case of staying three months at a time on tourist visas, then having to dip for a bit before they can come back, which makes it impossible to get any kind of proper job or stability. Don’t get the wrong idea though, if I hadn’t pressed them on this stuff I’d know nothing about it. No energy is wasted complaining when there are all these good times to be had. When there’s so much to learn about the local culture, especially when it comes to skateboarding. Because that’s another thing: I’ve been around a lot of well-paid professional skateboarders who make you feel like a prick for tentatively pointing out that a certain trick has been done at a spot you show them. This bunch would check ABDs religiously and genuinely care, and not just so they don’t step on any toes, but because they want to absorb that history. They care about the legacy of those that came before them and made them want to explore a city for themselves. That’s why their superpowers get put to good use, and we get to see them straight nollie between the ledges at Uni rather than nollie flip crook nollie triple flip out, or in the case of this London trip, cab out of the side of that full pipe in the Barbican car park rather than just another random flatbank trick.
Akira Utida, caballerial, London.
I should probably try to wrap this up because I miss them all dearly and worry that all this praise might not be too compatible with their humble demeanours – I don’t want to overdo it and put them off coming back! I will leave you with this though: amongst the aforementioned shenanigans from the previous night one scene I was getting recounted particularly stood out: an altercation that involved Leo Favaro’s whole face getting spray painted (which sounds both absurd and terrifying but that’s not the point here). The point is that they took it in their stride, all just cracking up as they were recounting the tale of ‘silver Leo’ (who by this point didn’t seem phased by what happened in the slightest). It was nothing to them, just a tiny random fragment of memory amongst all the magical memories accumulated in the process of shooting this article, which in turn will be an even tinier blip of memory in the story of their ascension to skateboarding greatness by the time you read this. Because if there’s one thing you must take away from all this it’s that nothing is going to get in the way of these guys blowing up (and having the most fun imaginable in the process). It’s in the DNA makeup of their crew: every time one sees, they must all see. Every time one learns, they must all learn. They’ll be endlessly feeding off each others’ energies until they’re all winning, there’s no other possible outcome.
Click through the rest of images of the rest of the photos printed in issue 58 below:
