The Art of Powder

Photographer Christoph Johann and pro skier Josh Absenger team up to go on one hell of a storm chase across Europe.

Dropping in three, two, one. Go! Silence over the radio set. My fingers are freezing cold, but my excitement overtakes the pain. It is cloudy. No wind at all. I am trying to take deep breaths, not moving an inch. Just a few seconds later, I see my friend Josh flying through the viewfinder of my camera.

That’s how I remember the moment I took our first magazine cover shot—a moment I will never forget. But how did this whole story start?

Teen (Pow) Addiction

My good friend, Josh Absenger, is a very experienced backcountry skier from Schladming, Austria. He is a freelancer who skis mainly for film productions and creates drone footage for brands and ski resorts. He started skiing at a young age and did a lot of park skiing. These days, he still enjoys freestyle, but his main passion is powder skiing. A few years ago, he decided to dedicate his life to chasing snowstorms and skiing untouched lines. That’s why he quit his job as a chef and started freelancing.

My name is Christoph Johann, and I am a professional action and ski photographer. I grew up in a small town in Bavaria. The mountains were quite far away, and as a small kid, I wasn’t interested in skiing at all. My passion for skiing really started in my teens. It took over my life; I would try to head to the Alps every weekend. My friends and I were addicted to skiing powder, and somehow, I found the experience was way too beautiful not to take photos of it. I wasn’t a photographer, just a kid who wanted to ski powder and capture moments with my camera. That’s how I became a photographer.

Friends on Powder Days

In 2020, I moved from Innsbruck to Salzburg and was looking for talented skiers who were willing to create some special photography on the mountain. A friend of mine told me about Josh. We had a phone call and talked through the idea. I wasn’t sure if Josh was really committed to spending most of his best powder days with a photographer. Not only would it mean he would ski fewer runs than if he was just free skiing, but there would also be a lot of time spent waiting for me while I set up my camera. Regardless, Josh seemed keen, but I still wasn’t sure.

When I finally met him for the first time, we met up at a parking lot at five in the morning. Josh jumped in my car, and we set off on our first powder mission to Nassfeld, Carinthia, four hours’ drive east. The resort had just received a mega four metres of snow within two weeks. Its easy-access north-facing freeride areas and forests beckoned.

We drove through remote valleys and silent villages. The amount of snow increased with every mile. So did the excitement. There is nothing like the anticipation of an epic powder day to break down barriers between new friends, and we instantly clicked on that drive.

Once we arrived at Nassfeld, we couldn’t believe our eyes. It was still snowing. Cars were buried. Most of the lifts were deep under the snow. It was cold. The snow was perfect: deep, dry, and untouched. A skier’s dream. So we skied powder and photographed action photos until it got dark. The results were more than amazing, and we decided to drive to Carinthia another two times during the same week.

On the last day of our Nassfeld pow-chasing trip, we were hoping for bluebird conditions, but unfortunately, it was overcast all day. The snow was still fantastic—there had been a 30cm reset overnight. Our legs were tired from the last two days, but the motivation was still high. After a few warm-up runs, we found an interesting zone. There was a clearing in the forest with big pillows—Canada-like terrain.

At first, I took some images of Josh skiing deep turns in between the trees. The images were good, but we were not totally satisfied. We wanted something big and special. And we found it. There was a dead tree loaded with snow in the middle of the clearing; the background was clean, and in the foreground were two pillows.

Josh and I started to build a jump so he could air over the pillows and land close to the picturesque tree. On his first try, he did a straight air. It was clean and stylish, but Josh had bigger tricks in his bag. A flat spin—one of his favourite tricks. At this point, I started to get excited and nervous. I knew there was a great potential for an incredible photo.

While Josh was hiking up again, I tried to position myself. We discussed the timing and positioning over the radio set, and then he dropped. A few seconds later, I saw him flying through the viewfinder of my camera. I was cheering! In this moment, I knew that we were about to score our first cover shot. Later that day, I sent the image to one of my favourite ski magazines and instantly got the pole position for the upcoming issue. A dream come true. A friendship was born.

Soul Turns

From that day on, we decided to spend as many days as possible on the mountain together. We called each other almost every day to talk about the snow report, potential backcountry lines, and creative ideas. We were on the hunt. On the hunt for those dreamy powder days. Late one January, we saw a little snowstorm heading to the northern Alps in the forecast. We wanted to give it a shot. The expectations were not too high because the weather forecast changed overnight, and we didn’t expect much new snow. But when we arrived at Josh’s local resort, Flachauwinkl, in the Salzburger Sportwelt, we found over 40cm of super-dry powder. The sky was clear. I couldn’t believe it. Not only because the conditions were incredible but because there were no people around.

Josh’s face spoke for itself. He was hyped. We were about to score a dreamy powder day. We didn’t have to search for any special freeride zones and just went for the first option: a steep and wide-open run. Untouched, just a few trees around, and golden light.

I told Josh to enjoy the run and to ride it like he was alone. Then I saw him flying down the line, setting big turns and even bigger sprays. Sometimes he completely disappeared under the snow. Pure soul turns! It was almost too easy for me as a photographer. Every single photo was a stunner. It felt like we were on drugs. We couldn’t stop smiling and skiing. What a day, what a time!

First Light, Fading Sun

On our last day of that season, in April, we were heading to a secret spot in the northern Alps. Josh was familiar with the mountain and guided me.

We started very early because we wanted to avoid the sun destroying the fresh powder, so we started skinning up the mountain in the darkness. By the time we reached the tree line, the blue hour started, and the sky faded from dark blue tones into light purple tones. It was beautiful.

When we reached our line on top of the mountain, the sun was almost about to rise. We didn’t waste any time and set up our equipment. The sun was rising, and the long shadows created beautiful structures in the snow. Just a few seconds later, Josh dropped into the steep gully and did a majestic skier’s left turn. That’s what ski photography is about: raw moments that you share with your best friends.

Later that day, we skied down to our car that we had parked in a clearing of the snowy forest. We drank cold beer in the fading sunlight and talked about a fantastic season with so many amazing photos. It was the last run of the winter, and it was a good one. Maybe not a perfect one, but it was about an experience. It was about a beautiful photo and even more about a special friendship.

Today, we are still on the hunt. We still check the snow report every day. We still set our alarms way too early to catch the first light. We still drive hours to get pitted, and we still drink beer in the afternoon sun.