The Ski Journal • Volume 17, Issue 3 • JEFF LEGER’S ART OF LIVING

Words: BRIGID MANDER. Photos: CHRIS FIGENSHAU. Art: JEFF LEGER. 2023-12-04 11:03:44

A Jackson Hole legend with a creative flair, Jeff Leger (aka “Lege”) has started making a name for himself in mountain art circles.

It has been a busy art season for Jeff Leger. Every summer “Lege,” as he’s affectionately known around his adopted home of Jackson, WY, takes a forced annual hiatus from the delights of subnivean days and teeing off cliffs to reflect on gifts of winters past, look forward to future turns, and immerse himself in the creative arts. For the last few years, an eclectic and growing collection of acrylic paintings on canvas have been his manifestations of the utter joy that skiing—and just about every other aspect of life—imbues in him. On snow, Leger may be the modern equivalent of the classic, old school soul skier, but his skiing’s a little too good, and a little too sendy to fly entirely below the radar. It’s not a ski style most can aspire to, but Leger’s recent foray into painting offers something else entirely. Leger’s brushstrokes offer something skiers intrinsically understand: the feeling they chase, whether every day or five times a year, is an ephemeral bliss, and then they chase it again.

It’s hard to tell that Leger is a die-hard skier when I walk into his small home just a few miles from Jackson Hole Mountain Resort [JHMR]. The walls aren’t covered with his likeness in ski magazines, posters or other memorabilia. Instead, canvases lean against the walls in every corner of the house he shares with his wife, Seana, and son, Lucas. Displaying eclectic subject matter and artistic styles, his art peppers the walls, shelves and an easel in the middle of the kitchen. The latter holds an in-progress depiction of iconic Cody Peak in the JHMR backcountry. The home also seems to be about cats: a blanket with cartoon cats is folded on the couch; Siamese cat figurines crowd together under a lamp; and a little mirror with cats hugging each other is positioned next to a four-foot-high cat toy. Soda, a 4-year-old Tonkinese, and Willow, a 6-year-old Siamese, coolly assess my presence. “What can I say,” says Leger with a shrug and an impish smile. “I’m kind of like the crazy cat guy.”

Amidst feline introductions, John Verdon, a JHMR ski patroller and next-door neighbor pops in to say hello and look at Leger’s new painting. “It’s coming along nicely,” says Verdon approvingly. Conversation skews to a jovial session ridiculing those who mystifyingly ski the top half of the Cody face only to traverse out high under the cliffs. Leger explains the vision for the piece, which will eventually entail a favorite subject matter: a skier blasting through deep powder in the foreground. And then, despite the easel in the center of the kitchen and paintings in every corner of the house, Leger brushes off his art. “I’m not really a painter,” he says. I look around, unconvinced. “Well, yes, I mean, I am painting some stuff,” he relents.

Raised in Massachusetts, Leger didn’t grow up an artist or a diehard skier. A couple high school trips out to Jackson Hole changed his course, however. “I knew I never wanted to play the game of milestones and obligations,“ he says. “People of our ilk put a precedent on experience over bank accounts. You can’t buy into this life.”

While his friends headed to college, Leger packed his bags, flew to Wyoming and started working and living at Hostel X (known today as The Hostel) at the base of the iconic tram in 1992. There, he found himself in the company of, among others, Benny Wilson, co-founder of the Jackson Hole Air Force, Dave “the Wave” Muccino and Wade McKoy, a professional photographer and current documentarian of skiers and ski culture at Jackson Hole.

“When I showed up here, it was so rad. I happened to land the gold mine of ski bum jobs,” says Leger. “And I was so green, I didn’t even know how to ski pow yet. But my enthusiasm really enhanced my skill set.”

Since then, he’s sent every famous run and air at JHMR with or without ski buddies and cameras. He’s shown up in magazines and in TGR films and sent it in the Kings and Queens of Corbet’s competition with a massive front flip off the West Wall. He writes and records the snow report for the snow phone—a delightfully old-school offering that people still call just to hear his uniquely entrancing and totally motivating take on the day ahead. “I turn raw weather data into something that gets people stoked,” he says. “Then, I go skiing all day.”

Larger than life in the air and on the hill, and a standout even in Jackson’s ultra-deep ski culture, most people would nonetheless easily miss him in the tram line. Slight in stature and a quiet, focused skier, Leger eschews flashy garb and posturing. Even when he is not physically smiling, he is the walking, skiing, sending embodiment of a genuine grin, utterly belying his skiing level. “When I first met Jeff, I was like, this guy sends it. And he just has this style in the air,” says Danny Filice, a longtime Jackson ski partner of Leger. “You don’t just follow a guy like Lege around—he’s a different kind of skier.” He adds that Leger’s positive attitude is infectious and that he’s always willing to take people to the edge, without pushing them off—a rarity in stokebird circles. Filice pauses, as if for effect, then says, “But then he’s got that cat thing – that just doesn’t make any sense. I’m always like, ‘Lege, does your cat really like that?’”

Most days Leger sees skiing as his artistic medium and his creative production has run the gamut. Leger and ski buddy Matt O’Donnell have made ski movies with apt titles such as Skid Luxury and Committed, filming, editing, and narrating themselves. He’s also scored countless magazine-quality shots with photographers like Chris Figenshau and McKoy. “Jeff is a raw natural with his skiing and his art,” said McKoy. “He’s always had the artistic eye, it’s a collaboration: he sees great angles and shots. And [his] ski style is super smooth fluid and beautiful, light on his feet, almost like a bird. And really creative in the air—big, old school moves.”

After Leger and Seana had Lucas in 2010, his art began to develop as well. As primary caregiver, Leger began making tie-dyes, first as a fun, engaging series of little kid projects, then as a dedicated art form on tapestries and shirts during the summer. “Once the snow flies, everything else shuts down,” admits Leger. Yet it wasn’t until after what Leger calls his biggest on-mountain miscalculation that art took on a new meaning in his life—and gave him a second chance.

In mid-January of 2020, Leger signed out with Jackson Hole ski patrol at the top of the tram, and headed to S&S, an in-bounds couloir with a narrow, consequential entry and mandatory twenty-plus foot drop. It’s not far from the famous Corbet’s Couloir, and is seldom skied even by locals, but those who commit usually have experience or are under experienced mentorship. Leger had skied it countless times. “I landed exactly where I planned to,” he says. “I expected it to be so deep, like a diaper of pow. Instead, it was this rock, covered by three inches of zero density snow. I misread what was going on.”

Solo and filled with adrenaline, Leger wasn’t immediately aware of the magnitude of his crash. “I thought I could ski down, but my leg didn’t work,” he says, adding that it was then that he called mountain patrol. “Jackson Hole Ski Patrol was so quick; Pete Linn dropped in via Corbet’s and booted up so fast; he got there first and he was so calm. But it was a tough place for them to get me out of.” The ambulance ride to the hospital quickly became a life-flight to Salt Lake City. There, doctors found a broken femur, pelvis, hip and sacrum along with one broken thoracic vertebra, seven broken ribs, a broken scapula and a punctured lung.

A few surgeries and a bit over a week later, Leger was sent back to Jackson to begin healing. Confined to bed, then a wheelchair for the first couple months, Leger grabbed his paintbrushes and “started slapping paint around.” Six months into rehab, it was obvious the hip and femur damage wouldn’t heal properly, and Leger underwent a full hip replacement. During a time of turmoil, the art kept coming. He made it back to snow for opening day that season, but says it was three years before he physically returned to normal.

During that time though, Leger’s art has blossomed and gained admirers around the world. It still covers the spectrum, from humorous takes on pop culture to the bliss and action of powder days. Leger himself admires everyone from Renoir and Seurat, to Warhol, Robert Townsend and Eizin Suzuki. He won’t have a show, though, he tells me: “I’m not a business guy. I want to do things because I like them.” And that he does, regardless of expectations. Consider one of his favorite ski buddies: Willow the Siamese cat. “She always likes to ride on my shoulders, so, I figured I’d just take her skiing,” he says. Willow makes her Jackson Hole appearances on Leger’s shoulders, sporting goggles and a jacket. And the one subject he hasn’t had the artistic courage to tackle? “I haven’t painted the cats yet,” Leger says. “I don’t want to fuck it up.“

It’s the utter delight in life’s possibilities which makes Leger tick, and he finds it without end with the blend of family, community and art. “It’s just the art of living, having fun with my time on the planet,” explains Leger. “In society, people create problems for themselves. I’m all too eager to avoid that. The conquest of the useless, now, I think we should focus more on that.”

The Ski Journal - Volume 17, Issue 3

JEFF LEGER’S ART OF LIVING

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