Clean Cut | The Mateo Massitti Interview

Frontside 7. Haines, Alaska. [o] Alex Pashley

Clean Cut | The Mateo Massitti Interview

By Finn Westbury 

I’m not gonna hold punches; growing up in Alberta, a couple years older than Mateo, I had initially written him off as a contest kid. He’s one of those snowboarders with so much talent that seeing ‘em confined to three runs a day felt like a waste. I think we can all agree that it would have been a damn shame if we hadn’t gotten Mateo footage over the past few years. With a solid moral compass and some incredible mentors, he’s found a powerfully genuine approach. He’s earned his stripes, slowly and steadily, culminating in a couple of Rookie of the Year awards. 

As Mateo steps out from under the wings of his predecessors and begins to refine his own approach, I realized that a lot of us don’t actually know what’s good with the kid beyond his tasteful snowboarding... let’s get into it.

Spike. [o] Dylan Ross

Finn Westbury: Despite growing up in the same zone, I don't actually know that much about you. You’re from Canmore?

Mateo Massitti: There's so much confusion about that. I was born in Calgary and lived there until I was nine. My parents had some property in Canmore that they bought in the early 2000s. My dad lost his job, a bunch of shit happened, so we ended up in Canmore.

You learned to snowboard at COP (Calgary Olympic Park), then?

I didn't start snowboarding until I moved to Canmore. I was skiing since I was three, and I
definitely wanted to snowboard, but no one in my family rode, so they didn’t really understand it. 

What’s funny is that shortly after moving into the mountains, I started doing the majority of my riding at COP. I was living in the mountains, driving back to the city to snowboard.

A bit of an unnatural switch. Did you play any other sports growing up? Maybe hockey, like a good Albertan boy?

My parents were so down with trying everything. I played hockey until I started snowboarding—it just got too intense. I was 10, and I remember my coach reaming my parents and me out for trying to leave a game early to go to a birthday party. I was like, “Yeah, that's enough.” I played lacrosse a bit, and I played violin for a long time.

Woah. I played violin, too.

It was fire, in hindsight, but during it, I thought it was insane. Playing a bunch of classical
stuff. I wanted to play the fiddle—that's what got me fired up. I just did hella shit.

Frontside 720. Hakuba, Japan. [o] Alex Pashley

If no one in your family snowboarded, how did you get introduced to it?

My mom's a physiotherapist, and she went to the 2006 Torino Olympics. I think she was working with the Canadian halfpipe team. My mom has crazy red hair, similar to Shaun White, and she came back with a photo of them together. That’s what initially got me stoked. My older brother wanted to get snowboarding lessons, and my parents were down for that—classic older brother. They let me join him, and he didn’t like it, but I did. The following year, they got me some random rusted-up board, and it progressed from there. I was hooked. I sucked, for sure... just catching my toe edge a bunch.

You buffed out the toe edge catches pretty quickly. Do you have any other siblings?

No, just my older brother, Andreas. He doesn't give himself enough respect, but he's done some crazy stuff in the mountains. His knowledge is deep. He introduced me to sledding. He had sponsors—he's at school now. I wish he had kept with it, but he felt like he needed to get on some real shit. His perspective on life is much different than mine. He definitely humbles me.

Are you motivated to keep pursuing snowboarding because he didn't see that through?

A hundred percent. Honestly, it can be tough. I feel like I don't get to express much, if any, of what I'm dealing with to him because I know he would have done anything to be in the position I'm in. That was his dream, as well as mine, when we were younger. I feel like I'm doing it for him, and also a lot of other people who can't. It's a weird dynamic—it sometimes feels like the snowboard side of my life is not present at home. I almost hide this side of my life from them. My parents get the sport vibe, but they don’t understand filming. They still ask me when I’m going to get a real job [laughs]. They want me to get on with real life, but they also respect that I'm focused on this right now.

It makes sense that you started cutting your teeth on the competitive circuit. How did you end up getting into it? Did you actually like competing?

My mom signed me up for Nationals in 2015. I remember thinking, ‘Wait. Like, the whole
country?’ I put together a little run, landed, and the reward I felt from that got me fired up. Following that, there was an opportunity to work with the Winsport team. Those early COP days with the team, just hiking rails at night, stoned, whatever—I fucked with that heavy. I wanted to make it in the contest scene until I was 18. I was dealing with some injuries, and started reminiscing on those early days, and the joy I got from purely riding. Over time, I got more educated on the filming side of things and started to see opportunity there.

You spoke earlier of a “fuck this” moment when you were playing hockey. Did you have a similar experience with competitive snowboarding?

Not really until the summer that I was off the team [laughs]. The last two years competing were some of my best years. When they told me I wasn’t being selected to the team again, that’s when I was like, “Fuck this.” I thought my snowboarding was done. I was tapped out, unsure of what the future would look like. I was back at home riding Norquay, and it was the first time in a while that I got to ride for myself, without obligation or expectation. That got me stoked, and I moved out to Whistler. The pandemic was going on, and my brother was living there. I wanted to start filming, but it felt too soon. That was my first year sledding. My brother was on my ass, but I've always watched and learned from him. It felt like I was back at Lake Louise when I was 12, just snowboarding.

Night laps in Hakuba, Japan. [o] Alex Pashley

Have you ever doubted your decision to dip out of competitive snowboarding?

Nah. Regardless of where I was in the past, all this shit has lined up. It’s a privilege to do things my younger self would see and think, This is everything you ever dreamt of. My only doubt is that maybe I stepped away from the steel too soon [laughs]. I can still get back into it.

You got Sam Taxwood chirping in your ear. Your first part was in Craig McMorris’ Fixin’. How did you get plugged into that?

[Laughs] for real. That started the spring I was in Whistler, right after dippin’ the slope team, Dylan [Ross] invited me to come to Chatter Creek, and I met the crew. Dustin [Craven] was filming for Oh Man, and I managed to get a couple clips in there. The following year, Craig wanted to hire two filmers and split crew, have some homies doing backcountry and some filming street. I didn't know I was filming for Fixin’ until the end of the season. It was never outspoken that I was going to have a part. I'd always wanted to film, and yeah [laughs], it just happened.

Watch Mateo in his first full part in Fixin by Craig McMorris. 

I think a lot of what you learn is dictated by our physical surroundings. You locked into Revelstoke when others in your position maybe wouldn't have done that. Why was that the right choice?

I was told otherwise when I was going out there [laughs]. I’ve come to realize it was the right move. Essentially, I wanted to go there after spending a bit of time in Whistler. I felt that I could express my riding in an honest way in Revelstoke. It was nothing but the terrain that drew me that way. I took a bit of a risk, and it seems to have kinda hit. Minimal egos on the boys out in Revy, too. They're positive, they're excited, they’re real because they fucking love it.

A couple of years after you started filming with Dustin, you were awarded Rookie of the Year by two American publications, Torment and Slush. How did it feel to get that recognition?

I hadn't been wanting that, but obviously it felt good to get some recognition beyond the small crew I was around. The Slush one meant the most because that was peer recognition, not public voting. It was pretty much everyone who had some sort of a higher level within snowboarding.

Did that recognition help you gain more confidence?

Yes and no. Those were awarded after Swamp Donkey. We filmed that whole video out of Revelstoke, hitting a bunch of low-hanging fruit. It was rewarding to know that our approach to creating that project was valid. We knew we got some stuff, but we didn't know how people would receive it. I was appreciative of the recognition, but I wouldn't say it made me more confident on my snowboard. That will always just come from me. I've never been one to get praise from someone and start thinking I'm the shit.

What’s the difference between being confident and having an ego?

I think ego comes from a position where people are blowing you up, and then you take that into account more than your personal values. It's hard to sustain who you truly are as an individual and not let snowboarding shift how you act in the day-to-day. Confidence is straight-up validation through yourself, knowing you're capable, or knowing your strengths and weaknesses. It comes from time on board, not people gassing you up.

What are your thoughts on “too cool” energy?

It can be hard to tell when someone is acting too cool or if they're just quiet. I've always said, not in a negative way, that snowboarders are weird that's why we do it. It's hard to tell until you actually know someone. Sometimes, the people who are too cool for you become your best homies down the road. It takes time to break the ice. You've got to appreciate everyone for who they are, and you can ultimately decide to associate yourself with them or not.

True shit. It’s pretty obvious from your approach that you're not afraid of a little bit of hard work. I see that Alberta blue collar in you. Before you were making any money from snowboarding, how were you supporting yourself?

As soon as I stopped competing, I was on my own. When I moved to Revelstoke, I started working on wildfires with a contracting company—it was a lot of chainsaw work. That would take me into September, and when Natural Selection moved out to Revelstoke, I was very lucky to have been a part of that. That was a dream job, just cutting down trees and building features. I was doing the wildfire to NST shift for three years, and this summer, I stashed some money away and wanted to spend time with my family. It was nice, but next year, I definitely want to have a summer gig again for the mental state of feeling productive.

How did you lock down the NST gig? What’s it like up there?

Travis [Rice] reached out to Dustin, who knew I was kinda nice with the saw. It was just a homie looking out for a homie. He knew I could use some extra money, and also the dynamic up there - it’s good to have snowboarders working on that course. I give (Dustin) so much respect for mapping it all out. I don't know if I should even be talking about this [laughs], but at NST, you’re breaking some rules. Last fall, I was straight rock climbing a face to take out a tree mid-cliff, and yeah—probably should have been roped in. We're not carpenters, we're not builders. It's a lot of learning as you go, doing whatever has to be done.

[o] Dylan Ross

There have been a few really good people in your corner over the years in mentorship-style roles. What does that style of relationship mean to you?

I don't know where I’d be if it weren't for those people. I think mentors are needed. They have a different perspective on you than we do of ourselves. I’ve noticed they also hide some shit from you until they think you're ready to know. I think that might've happened filming for Fixin’ with Dustin—he didn't say shit to me. He just wanted me to keep boarding and not trip out about filming for a project. Some of my talented homies that I thought would've made it big, who were super talented, didn’t. Maybe if they had that older figure spit some facts to them, it would've allowed them to trust themselves more, or trust the industry more.

Good on Dustin for pumping your brakes a little bit. I’d say that all the things that have happened to you happened at the right time. I don’t think it was too soon.

The dirty work sometimes ends up being the clean work.

Dustin has clearly played a huge role in your life. What does that friendship mean to you?

Before meeting him, I knew I liked to snowboard, but didn’t feel like I had a place in it. When someone like Dustin brings you under their wing, it instills a sort of confidence in yourself. I was honestly super skeptical if snowboarding was the right fit for me.

He helped me respect myself more. Our relationship has definitely changed, but right now, it feels very wholesome. I feel like I’m starting to try to look out for him because of what he’s provided to me.

You can start to give back.

I feel like I've changed as a human over the past four years, and he's been a big part of that. I just don't want it to end up that he's provided all these opportunities for me, and then I haven't done anything for him. I just want to even everything out.

I think we both understand that, and we're both very appreciative of those years we had together. That's one of my biggest goals— find a homie and try to give them the world. I feel like that's part of my responsibilities now, to carry that along.

I'm curious if you had any pinch-me moments when you started filming with professional snowboarders?

I went on a couple of trips with Craig [McMorris] for Fixin’, and that was pretty surreal to me. I'd been watching him and his brother since I started snowboarding, and now we're in the same space. Filming with Taxwood, too. There was this Nitro trip for Cake. People were still buzzing off Landline—people will always buzz off that—anyways, I pull up, Sam's there, and then I end up staying in a room with him. I was straight tripping.

I dreamt of the snowboard life when I was younger, but the people I've met that have turned into relationships are more than I could ever have imagined. I'm going to hold onto those moments the rest of my fucking life.

That's what it’s all about. Has it been difficult finding your own identity within snowboarding, in light of some of these mentorship roles?

A hundred percent. This past summer, I had a little bit of an identity crisis.

[o] Dylan Ross

Tell me about it.

Honestly, fuck... linking up with Pash, and having a crazy good year with him around, and then it ending so heavily. Both as an individual and a pillar in the snow industry, that type of person is rare. Everyone wants to find a way to have a relationship with someone like that. That's something I'd dreamt of, and it was so good.

Then spring came around, snowboarding wasn’t there, and I didn’t have that escape. After all the highs, and then ending it on such a fucking low, I was reeling in the fact that these individuals you really wish you could fucking talk to are gone. Life felt so different that it was a couple of months ago.

I had to constantly remind myself that the more we can tap into who we truly are at a human level, and consistently act in ways aligned with that, we’ll find our place—even if it’s hard.

A lesson most likely learned from the important people in your life, right?

It's ongoing. When you're snowboarding, it's fine. You might mentally know you're all good, but an outside perspective is important. I feel like I had a pretty bad year filming, and I find myself wondering what Pash would think.

There's power in recognizing that some years are going to be yours, and then others are going to be the homies, and you can support each other.

Maybe one year you film a fucking crazy video part, and the next year you do a bunch of initiatives for a company. That's also valuable. There’s all these different ways of calculating success within your career, but it's tough. Every year is different.

With clips coming out half a year later, I’ve come to realize that when I was filming them, that's who I was at that moment. When you watch someone's clips, you don't really know what they’re going through. You expect some shit out of them.

We have to remember that we’re all fucking human, and have way more on our minds than just snowboarding, even when we're doing gnarly shit.

Bouncing back, you alluded to this earlier, when you were transitioning to filming, you did a proper sponsor switch-up. How did you get involved with Nitro?

Dustin reached out to Ryan Willisko, the Canadian Nitro guy, on my behalf. Jared Elston was massive through this process, providing a little insider take on the brand. I trusted Jared, and I could tell Willisko was genuine and a man of his word.

I wasn’t fully ready to leave Burton, but I realized as I was switching up my snowboarding program that it could be a nice change. I don't know, I had nothing to really lose. I was going to be getting gear from one or the other.

[o] Dylan Ross

You start riding Nitro flow, film some shit for Fixin’, they see your footage, and then throw you a little bone. That first year signed with them, they asked you to come on your first team trip?

Exactly. I was on my first small one-year contract, filming for Wet Fur. That was the first time that I was selected to go out and be part of the crew. I was going to stay at my house in Revelstoke because it was a short drive, but then I was like, “Fuck it, if it's a team trip, I'm going to go post up with the crew.” It was a whole squad. That would've been a heavy miss on my part if I didn't go stay at the Airbnb [laughs]. It was a fat storm, just a crazy amount of snow. We were chilling up at Eagle Pass, riding some pillows and building a few jumps.

The vibe check worked out—your tryout was a success. Nitro is in the middle of releasing its latest film, Spike, which you feature in. We talked earlier in the fall, and you hadn't seen a thing. Now that you’ve got some premieres under your belt, how are you feeling about the project?

Seeing it in Beijing for the first time, I was hyped. Previously, I'd been more involved with editing, so Spike was highly anticipated. It was emotional. I cared about it a lot, and it was cool to just see what Ted put together.

I know others were involved with it; there were a lot of hurdles that the crew had to overcome during editing. I think it's being received pretty well.

World premiere in Beijing is bonkers. That picture of you on a camel is so cool.

Trippy [laughs]. Never thought I'd go there. If we ride anything, we’d be coming out of the day without a shot. I wasn't going to say no to this opportunity just because of how it shook down. It was what it was due to unfortunate circumstances.

Do what you gotta do. You have a pretty tight-knit collection of sponsors. How important is it to maintain your values while working with these companies?

It's not like it's a less-is-more thing; I just have good relationships with the brands I ride for. I'd rather work more in-depth on those than have a bigger spread of sponsors and not be able to do what you're supposed to do.

Nitro, Autumn, The North Face, and Back Country Racks are all in their own niche. They don't really overlap.

Maintaining your personal values can be tough. There's definitely some sacrifice. Going to a product shoot or a brand activation doesn’t exactly feel like my place, but they end up being very inspiring. I always leave with a different perspective on life and what I want my future to be.

On the topic of sponsors, you just signed with an agent. How did that come to life?

That went down last spring when a bunch of homies were out in Revelstoke for NST. The timing of it, after all the stuff that went down with Slush and Torment, makes sense. I was introduced to Circe [Wallace], and we were chatting for a month or so—I wasn’t jumping on it right away, but I saw it as an opportunity.

Nowadays, it feels more needed than ever with the way snowboarding is unveiling itself to the world. It’s a unique partnership we have going on. I've already taken away a lot of life lessons regarding communicating, how to talk to people in certain ways, and the way you approach a partnership.

[o] Dylan Ross

Are there any particular brands or types of companies you're scheming to work with?

Sleds, trucks, and fuel are pretty expensive these days [laughs]. A sunscreen hookup would be nice, too. My face gets mad burnt all winter long. Neutrogena would be fire.

You’re trying to stay young. Let’s get you some facial cleanser.

For real. Things will happen when they're meant to happen. There's been some exciting chats—we'll see how it unfolds. It's definitely not the whole agent thing I thought it would be. It's very human. We’ve been talking about my future. I've always been pretty real with myself; I want to have a family. I want to have my life going outside of snowboarding. It straight up got to the point where it's like, is this feasible or not?

Did you bring home any parasites from The North Face Athlete Summit in Mexico?

Nah, I'm chilling [laughs]. I saw Spencer [Schubert] the other day, and he didn’t seem so good. He had to shit in a bag. I didn't even know everyone got parasites.

Glad to hear you dodged that. How did you get in the mix with TNF? You seem to be thick as thieves.

I'm in thick [laughs]. It’s great. That started after Fixin’. Uncle Dustin hit up [Jess] Kimura, and they got me connected with the right people. I was on flow the first year, we put out Wet Fur, and the following year they gave me a little two-year deal, and threw some support down for Swamp Donkey. Beyond snowboarding, I've been able to be more involved with product campaign stuff. It’s nice to feel like you can provide value off the snowboard. There are so many avenues beyond a career in snowboarding with a brand like that.

Cover boy. Haines, AK. [o] Alex Pashley

Alaska popped off for you last winter. You went twice, almost back-to-back. Let’s break it down: What was up with your first trip?

It was a North Face trip with Nik Baden, Austin Smith, Brock Nielsen, and Alex Pashley. Pashley spearheaded that whole thing. He saw a weather window and was like, ‘We're running it.’

I was scared, but we had a dope crew, and I was stoked to film with Brock again. We pulled up, did one warm-up lap, and then went to Japan Spines. Nik and I were up top, just buzzing. Both of our first times there.

It was blower snow—so deep, so soft. We’d ride lines in the morning and then try to get some airtime in the afternoon. We had the nicest weather all day, every day. Some mornings we'd be out at eight and not back until six.

I feel like a strength of yours is taking the stress out of snowboarding and tapping into the enjoyment of it. Were you able to accomplish that in Alaska?

I wouldn't say I don't get stressed out filming, but in Alaska, I had some of the calmest moments I've ever had, despite how scared I was.

Being strapped in on top of such a crazy place, bluebird weather, just looking around and taking a couple of deep breaths, and looking up. I was seeing the people I've lost: friends, family. I felt so fucking close to them at that moment.

What did it mean to go on that trip with Pashley?

At the end of the day, I just feel incredibly privileged to have been in his presence out there. I don't know if those moments up top were the universe telling me to just take it all in or something, but having Pash there made me feel so safe. You could trust him in every fucking manner. Everything was perfect in those moments.

Watch Mateo in Varmin, shot between March 12 and March 15th, 2025, on a trip organized by Alex Pashley.

Tell me about going back to Alaska the second time?

I would've gone back to Alaska the week following the incident. I was talking shit with Pashley, telling him that we were thinking about going back up there—I was texting with him the morning of the day that he passed. We had heli hours booked, and we came to the conclusion that we’d go out there and snowboard for those three.

Back up there, we were looking at the Japan Spines, the first face we rode the previous trip. It was cloudy and murky everywhere else, but just above that face, the sun was setting with these three clouds above. I was sitting there, goggles on, tearing up. That's got to mean something. It's got to be those motherfuckers up there.

Shoutout, Alex Pashley, Jeff Keenan, and Jason Remple. Pillars in this snow world. Fucking legends.

So, going back was healing for you?

In a sense. Going into it, I was thinking, ‘What are we doing?’ We had a bunch of talks in the field, and took a lot of time to respect them. It felt like the right thing to do, even though it was tough to go snowboard. Going back to a place so important to him, with individuals who understood him, was more needed than I knew.

Have you learned anything about yourself through your grief?

Since then, it’s not good, but whenever I'm around anyone, I’m thinking it might be the last time. I’m just trying to really appreciate people more.

How has your relationship with the mountains changed?

I'm going to be a lot more on it. I really want to be a lot more educated on the mountain. I'm going to be taking a course every year. I’m going to be looking out and speaking my mind while filming a lot more. Just being part of the crew and having to deal with whatever it might be. I want to be more open out there and verbal, not feeling like you gotta get on something sketchy. The mountains give you facts, and it’s important not to overlook them.