AS SEEN IN THE NOVEMBER 2011 ISSUE OF FREESKIER.
WORDS: LEAH FIELDING | PHOTO ILLUSTRATION: JEFF NASS
A line of bros on wave skates wiz by sloshing their beers on the smooth cement floor. Seconds later, a human-sized game of Jenga crashes to the floor, followed by a loud, “Shit!” Several paintings by Travis Parr hang before me, eerie and electric representations of animals. Unless you came here in search of grassroots ski company Icelantic, and knew of Parr’s artist-in-residence status with the brand, one would think this is just another hip gallery in full hipster bloom.
Outside, the streets of Denver are swarming with people and littered with bright sidewalk art and crafts. The aromas of fresh pizza and spicy Mexican food waft from colorful food trucks. The buzzing crowds have a sort of methodology as visitors hop from one art gallery or food truck to the next. This is First Friday, an open-house art tour, held every month by the Art District on Santa Fe, running on a 10-block stretch of Santa Fe drive and Kalamath street outside of downtown. Icelantic Skis’ office, aka “the gallery,” happens to be the last stop on the tour.
The indie ski company moved into Battery 621—the building on Kalamath Street that Icelantic shares with Spyder, Wink Inc. and the Public Works to name a few—in late 2010 and found themselves at home as a part of the district. The decision to open their doors to anyone and everyone was an easy one for Icelantic’s Ben Anderson, Sam Warren and Parr.
“It’s really just a representation of who we are,” says Promotions Manager Warren of their involvement in First Friday. “It’s about the passion we all share as a company, especially snowsports, art and music.”
A gaggle of 20-somethings, outfitted in the tightest of gender-bending jeans, wander into Battery 621. A minority of them are skiers. They’ve come for the art. A haggled toothless wonder floats through the crowds, wearing a German beer maid costume. She’s there for the free keg of Tommyknocker beer. A little boy and his mother stand besides the artist, Parr, waiting to interview him for a school art project.
“[First Friday] brings in everyone, skiers, art lovers, randos,” says Anderson, the company’s founder. Anderson recalls one particular visitor last year, when Icelantic had just started holding First Friday.
“There was this one girl from Missouri, who just moved to Denver,” he says. “She kept coming up to us—like six times—and asking who lived here. [Laughs] We were like ah, no one lives here. We work here.”
The girl continued to come back all summer-long. “Everyone who comes to First Friday comes back,” he said.
He attributes Icelantic’s growing success to two things: the company’s initial decision to differentiate itself by making its brand a personal experience (Anderson still answers the phone) and the fact that there are two non-skiers on staff; Parr and Warren are snowboarders.
“They have no outside connection to the ski industry,” said Anderson.
This objectivity has allowed them freedom—in their respective roles—to mold Icelantic into what they’ve envisioned. Consequentially, Parr’s art work has become the heart of the company, and Warren’s efforts in music events have become its soul, thanks to sponsorships like the 2011 and 2012 Snowball festivals in Avon, CO, and a partnership with Red Rocks for the venue’s first ever winter concert, set to be held in late January 2012.
This open-minded branding approach, focused on face time with the public, may be unconventional, but it works for them. The growing company is even opening up another “gallery” in Germany, thanks to the efforts of the company’s international sales workhorse, Annelise Loevlie.
The conversations during First Fridays—often started in the keg line—swing from art to beer to sustainability and sourcing product locally. Eventually they may even land on skiing. Strangers are overheard exchanging their favorite zones, how often they get up to the mountains and how they wish they could ski more. These discussions about skiing and other passions are exactly why Icelantic became involved in First Friday.
“We don’t want people to know us through our ads,” says Anderson. “We also don’t want to tell people what’s cool. We want to participate [in cool things] together.”
Looking around the gallery, as people begin to bob to the live music that’s just started, Icelantic’s staff dissolves into the crowd, making themselves indistinguishable from their guests.







