"The guy was flight and fancy incarnate. He was very aware of the art of surfing."
It cheers me up every time I find out a well-known surfer was born hundreds of miles away from the ocean, or that they came to the sport relatively late in life.
I guess it allows me to imagine that the sport is open to all, or at least not fully closed off to anyone but us lottery winners who were born on the coast and dragging a board into the shorebreak as preschoolers. While Kemp Aaberg, who has died from complications related to Parkinson’s, was an attractive surfer any way you looked at him—and yes, let us absolutely include that aquiline XXL nose—I love the fact that he was born in Peoria, Illinois, and didn’t pick up a board until he was 16.
Kemp was a textbook obsessive, but at every turn, with every new interest (surfing, guitar, triathlons) he never allowed the new thing to divide him from his best qualities.
Kemp was always bright and generous, funny and warm.
In a 1964 Surf Guide article on Malibu, Kemp complains a bit about the crowds, but also has a broader—Midwestern, you might say—view of things.
“What happened,” he says of the surf craze that in a small part he’d help launch, as a favorite surfer in the early Bruce Brown films, “was that a new game had been discovered—a new entertainment, a new recreational device, a new economic device. Once surfing was discovered you certainly couldn’t expect [it] to be saved from the [crowd] explosion, just because it’s so much fun to do. And it makes you feel so good. Nothing makes you feel better. I always wonder how people inland really exist. What can they do? Do they really feel refreshed after a game of football?”
Aaberg was a surf stylist for the ages.
Herky-jerky at times, upright like a flag pole, then deeply crouched, back up, elbows and hands flying away at unexpected moments, the general effect very marionette, except it was like God himself pulling the strings.
The videos I’ve posted on EOS do not do Kemp justice. This one and this one were both filmed when he was 18, a few weeks out of high school, and had been surfing less than three years. This gets a little closer to his weird proud-chested free-jazz approach, but I have better footage on the hard drive and will try to make another clip soon.
Like Art Brewer, who died earlier in the week, Kemp gave us the best version of surfing.