This article was taken from the May 2013 issue of Wired magazine. Be the first to read Wired's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by <span class="s1">subscribing online. "How did you find me?" Gou Miyagi asks Wired. "I've been making my videos in the hope that one day they'd reach people outside the skateboarding world, but I wasn't sure that it was ever going to happen."
He shouldn't have doubted it.
Footage of the Japanese skateboarder gliding along railings in a hushed Osaka at night, mixing subtle angles and delicate balances with twirls around poles and handstands on benches, all performed with elegance and rhythm, have attracted more than a million online views. His style is the opposite of the brand of skateboarding seen at competitions and skate parks.
From Osaka, he's leading a quiet revolution -- as he's beginning to realise.
"It's an art, not a sport: a way of expressing something that I can't anywhere else," says the 35-year-old. "I like the creative, rebellious spirit of street skateboarding -- it's not about scoring points or showing off tricks. Other skateboarders of my generation say this, too." He pauses. "But I seem to be the only one going through with it."
Capturing creativity on camera is part of his art. "I love making videos, capturing something personal, the excitement," he says. "But it takes ages to perfect each move to a level where I can convey something to a non-skateboarding audience."
Miyagi is reluctant to have his style pigeonholed, but does concede to a stylistic tick: "If I have any signature trait, it's that when I finally nail that move, and my body does just what I want it to, it looks smooth and seamless - and I feel great."
His latest exploits feature in the Video Nasty DVD, released this June and made in collaboration with skateboard brand Heroin. He says his three-minute slot was "inspired" by his Okinawa birthplace. "The skateboarding scene is getting too commercialised," he says. "I have to fight this -- I'm losing my place of solace. And I want to be a part of skateboarding history."
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
