We are back with our first Maker’s Insight of 2025!

Who doesn’t love solid, realistic concrete parks? If you’re a fan of smooth transitions and well-crafted obstacles, you’re on the right page.

For this episode of Maker’s Insight, we had the pleasure to sit down with Jason Maki, Founder of @cretedoctor to dive (or drop) into the world of concrete obstacles. We talked about their meaning, their purpose, and what they represent to him as a skater.

Here is the story and insight of Jason behind Crete Doctor.

(NY) What drew you to building concrete fingerboard parks? Is there a specific moment or inspiration that led you down this path?

(JM) I've always been infatuated with building things. Construction and creativity have consistently captivated me. I vividly remember, as young as four years old, creating miniature replicas of Disneyland rides—such as Pirates of the Caribbean, Swiss Family Robinson, and The Jungle Cruise—in my front yard using toys and a garden hose. And yes, I did flood the yard a time or two.

My passion for building and innovating never faded. Whether it was constructing a miniature MLB stadium for a marketing class or sculpting quarter pipes and miniatures in ceramics, my desire to build and create persisted.

My journey into concrete parks specifically began when I discovered fingerboarding in March 2007. Almost immediately, I saw the connection between building and performance, and I dove right in. From that moment until I began pouring concrete slabs, I crafted hundreds of obstacles and parks using nearly every material imaginable.

In my junior year of high school, I took a job at a local concrete yard, where I started learning the trade. Initially, I hadn't thought much about concrete work, but I soon began noticing its nuances everywhere, especially at the skateparks I visited. This sparked my curiosity and deepened my fascination.

(NY) Concrete has a unique relationship with light, texture, and wear. How do you utilize these elements in your miniature parks to replicate the feel of full-scale skatepark?

(JM) Concrete is incredibly complex, and I want to be very clear that I'm far from being a pro—there is still so much I'm learning. However, spending over 20 years at skateparks has taught me a tremendous amount. You begin to develop a deep understanding of their structure and design, which makes decision-making easier when working on a park. Additionally, it's essential to have enough knowledge of concrete to properly form and support structures; this is an area where many people often go wrong.

Jason and Scott (@dynamicfb) / Photo by: @eggz.fb

(NY) Concrete structures require careful formwork and curing. What challenges do you face in creating durable and detailed miniature parks, and how do you refine your construction techniques?

(JM) Once you understand concrete to a certain degree, you begin to make decisions based on its limitations. For instance, concrete has incredible compressive strength but lacks tensile strength. Knowing this, you have to ask yourself: how does that affect the way you'll build your next park?

As I mentioned before, each build teaches you so much. I've learned far more by actually doing it myself than I ever could from DMs or YouTube videos. Hands-on experience is truly the best foundation for refining your techniques.

(NY) Can you walk us through how you create a concrete fingerboard bowl from start to finish? Are there any unexpected techniques involved?

(JM) The techniques closely mirror real-life construction: dig, frame, rebar, pour, form, finish, and clean up! Yet, at the end of the day—especially at this scale—you're essentially sculpting. There are countless subtle movements, strokes, pressure points, and swipes my hands instinctively perform without conscious thought. These intuitive actions only develop through repetition and time.

(NY) The fingerboard scene is growing, and DIY parks are a big part of it. How do you see your work contributing to the culture, and where do you think it’s headed?

(JM) I genuinely can’t say—I never approached this with a 'checklist' of accomplishments in mind. I simply pursued it because I deeply enjoy the process, and everything else naturally followed. However, I can say that I've experienced literal childhood dreams coming true this past year. From building a bowl with Scott and discussing fingerboarding for hours, to having Mike Schneider admire and purchase my work while standing in the very place whose videos I once memorized, or being part of the Blackriver store opening—a company that undoubtedly reshaped my thinking as a kid because of how incredibly rad it was—these moments created feelings I'll never fully be able to describe. They are deeply soul-filling.

Honestly, I don't know what's next. My plan isn't about ticking off more boxes, but rather continuing to build and innovate, because that's all I've ever known, and it's an essential part of who I am.

(NY) Do you see your parks as purely functional, or do you consider them as a furniture (as a part of the space it’s located) as well? What does working on this miniature scale teach you about creativity and fingerboarding itself?

(JM) Before anything else, my parks need to be functional. It's essential that lines are clear, attainable, and never awkward. The builds I feel most self-conscious about typically violate this principle in some way. Working at a miniature scale truly highlights the differences between skating and fingerboarding, providing me with a completely new set of parameters to consider.

(NY) How did your personal experiences with fingerboarding influence the way you approach designing miniature parks?

(JM) I grew up during the classic, Blackriver-influenced “golden era” of fingerboarding, which differs significantly from today's approach. Experiencing such a rich, rare, and unified culture during my formative years gave me a profound appreciation for the hobby. Everything had depth, a meaningful story behind it, and I strive to embed that same level of ethos and wonder into everything I create. However, a significant part of my work today is also influenced by the skaters I've met over the past five years and my relationship with Grindline Skateparks.

(NY) Every designer and a craftsman has a personal approach to their projects. What is your personal approach towards building concrete parks?

(JM) One thing that often surprises people is that all my designing and planning happens entirely in my head—I don’t use any modeling at all. At most, I’ll sketch a feature or two on a piece of paper, but that’s about it. For me, it’s all about instinct and feel, through and through!

(NY) Are there specific real-world skateparks, plazas, or architectural spaces that you try to capture in your designs?

(JM) Yes, I can still vividly remember the first skatepark that truly inspired me enough to try and recreate it—Whistler, BC Skatepark, when I was in kindergarten. It wasn’t just about the ramps; it was the way the park was nestled in the Canadian Rockies, as if a glacier had carved it herself.

Beyond that, I draw a lot of inspiration from what Dreamland Skateparks does—if there’s an empty space, they’ll find something creative to fill it with. I’m also heavily influenced by how Grindline has pushed creativity in their designs. Essentially, if there’s a way to merge a park with its natural surroundings—incorporating elements like rocks—I’ll be there, fully committed, until the end of time.

(NY) Lastly, how do you want the users to approach and/or interact with your work?

(JM) More than anything, I want people's initial reaction to be one of pure surprise and awe. I don’t want them to convince themselves the build is sick—I want that instinctive head nod the moment they lay eyes on it. Beyond that, I want those who invest time in the build to be rewarded with all the nuances and hidden lines that aren’t immediately obvious at first glance.

Jason Maki
Instagram: @cretedoctor

From Imagination to Concrete - Jason Maki, Crete Doctor

How Fingerboarding Reflects Architectural Principles - Gil Dias