“Dance with Time” is one of the chapters of Éphémère, a long and complex lyrical journey into the relationship between the multidimensional skier and creative mind Edgar Cheylus and the dimension of the ephemeral. A hybrid dimension where time, mourning, nature, sport, and beauty come together, shaping a single zenith: that of the human quest. The search for questions that become increasingly clear in their obscurity, as well as in their complexity. The search for answers that are not meant to be universal axioms, but suggestions aimed at the acceptance of what surrounds us—of a present that appears only to disappear, second by second, leaving memories that are never fully positive, never fully negative.

The Arc’teryx Winter Film Tour gave us the opportunity to immerse ourselves in this visual production that combines aesthetics with philosophical depth, and allowed us to speak with Edgar Cheylus, who introduced us to his own vision: a journey composed of sensations, poetry, wonder, and intimate awareness.

‘Éphémère’. A lyrical title for an intimate exploration of your personal journey and the connection between nature, experience, emotions, and skiing. What does this word mean to you as an athlete, a creative, and above all, as a human being? Why did you choose it as the title for this evocative film?

“I chose this word first and foremost as a human being, because growing up, I always felt a little sad—though ‘sad’ might not be the right word. I guess I felt a sense of pride mixed with this sadness, seeing how moments in my life were so fleeting. I had these incredible moments with my friends, unforgettable times with my family—like Christmas, or those small, precious times you get to spend with the people closest to you. But those moments were always so short-lived. The day after, they were gone.

I used to have this image in my mind: the room where we had a party, playing music, watching movies, all the people around… and then coming back to that same room the next day, and it was completely empty. The scene was gone, maybe just a few balloons left floating. Since then, the word éphémère has meant a lot to me. I was always kind of afraid of it, but at the same time, it was the most beautiful concept I could experience. I love the paradox in that word. For me, it’s about finding the balance between something beautiful and something I fear—the passing of time, the loss of something, or even losing someone.

So that’s why I feel so connected to the word éphémère. I chose it for a bigger project, not just for the movie. I started working on the project two years ago with my friends. The first part was about how humans live their lives, and the second part was a reflection on human existence. That’s when this movie came to life. We actually called this Éphémère chapter “Dance with Time.” To me, life is like a fleeting dance. Whatever you’re doing—whether it’s sports, going to school, or just hanging out with friends—it all feels temporary. The third part of the project will focus more on how humans act. We want to spend time with younger kids and give them the chance to experience nature in a different way—taking them to the mountains or the ocean, showing them how they can connect with the world around them.”

Skiing and visual production. How do these two parallel worlds intersect in your life? What similarities and differences do you perceive between the athletic act and the process of filmmaking or photography?

“It all came very naturally to me. Growing up, my dad always encouraged my sister and me to play sports. We grew up near Annecy, in the French Alps, and he had us on skis from a very young age. Not in a club, though—just following him around and having fun throughout our childhood. The same thing happened with surfing and kitesurfing, since our grandparents live in Hossegor, on the west coast of France. We mixed both worlds—skiing in the winter and surfing in the summer.

At the same time, we weren’t living up in the mountains; we were in the countryside near Annecy. So, I also played a lot of soccer and tennis. I was especially inspired by the “big three” in tennis, particularly Nadal and his mindset. Tennis taught me a philosophy of giving 100%, or even more, to whatever I do. I competed a lot in skiing between the ages of 15 and 18, and I always gave my best in competitions. I was always at the front, pushing myself to be the best I could be.

But at the same time, that wasn’t really my true personality. To compete at the highest level like Nadal, you need a special drive to beat your opponent, almost an anger or intensity that I didn’t have. That’s why competition was a bit tough for me. I’d get good results and was happy with what I was achieving at the time, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t the person I truly was. I also knew that I wanted to give something more to people than just competition.

I have to thank my parents as well. They always encouraged us to focus on school too, not just on sports. My sister and I are both still studying—I’m in a design school in Lyon. We always tried to balance both—sports and intellectual pursuits—50/50. When you turn 18, sponsors start to show up, and you get opportunities in the sports world, and you start thinking, “Maybe I should go 100% into this.” But my parents always told us to have a plan for life after sports, or at least alongside it.

The shift into visual production happened by chance, and I just went with it. I started to develop my artistic side, learning a lot along the way. I also signed a contract with Arc’teryx, and that turned out to be a perfect match. They saw that I was good at competing, but they also helped me develop other aspects of my personality.”

Before the film screening, we were told that this lyrical, biographical and visual tale is inspired by a loss you experienced a few years ago. Which lines of the written poem that guided us through the film hold particular significance for you? And since these words were also inspired by skiing, could you tell us how your relationship with the sport has evolved over time?

“The whole poem was written because of this friend and everything I’ve gone through over the past four years. So many questions popped into my mind during that time—so many dark moments. The poem became a way for me to reconnect with myself, to understand what I was feeling inside. I had a lot of questions about life, about why I skied, about why I made certain choices, like why I did that line or took that face that day with him. A lot of questions, but in the end, there were answers, too. It was a key moment in my life, and I was, and still am, deeply sad about it. But now I can talk about it, and it’s part of me. It drives me toward a better future.

We didn’t want to just give answers or tell the story in a heavy, sad way. So, we hoped the poem would offer something more. It was really more for us, in a way, and it made it easier for people to connect with—it felt lighter, more accessible. We wanted to share our story in a way that felt simple and open for others to understand.

As for skiing, it’s interesting. Just last night, I was thinking about it. With social media and all the information we get every day, it’s easy to get lost in it all. You see athletes competing, and you wonder if you should go back into competition, try to be the best at what you do. At the same time, you see other skiers doing more artistic, emotional things, and that’s inspiring too. Honestly, it started to feel overwhelming—so many sources of inspiration, so many videos, so many images. It felt like too much at times.

And now, I just want to strip everything back to the simplest version of skiing for me. If I had to sum up my view of skiing today, it would be: It’s a dance with the elements and with people. It’s about the people you meet and interact with every day. Skiing, for me now, is like a dance with the mountains—trying to understand them as best I can, and finding harmony with what the mountains offer on any given day.”

You are also connected to design, and this connection is highlighted in the stunning beauty of your visual compositions. Given your artistic/design culture, taste, and knowledge, what does the connection to Arc’teryx’s aesthetics mean to you? How does it feel to represent this brand both on the mountains and on screen?

“As I mentioned earlier, my connection with Arc’teryx… I’m not sure if I can call it just a ‘chance’ or a ‘path’ in life. Sometimes, you just cross paths with people or adventures, and things unfold that way. Maybe I needed to go deeper into my aesthetic side, and this connection really helped push me to explore and develop that part of myself. For me, it’s always been important to try to find the beauty in every moment, in every small aspect of life.

I was lucky enough to learn photography at a very young age, thanks to my dad, so I’ve always had this way of seeing things differently. It’s fascinating for me—sometimes, even in an ordinary or banal scene, if you change your perspective, if you place yourself in a different position, it’s like you’re no longer there. People can’t see you, but you can experience the moment in a whole new way.

Since I lost my friend, I’ve really focused on reattaching myself to the world around me. Every morning, I try to find the beauty in each moment, in everything around me, and even in the most basic things. I think that’s what drives me to pursue this aesthetic approach—to capture and share the beauty I see. I want to show people something beautiful, the best I can offer them. I’m working hard to do that, and I hope it’s something people enjoy and appreciate when they see it.”