If snow sculpting sounds as about as exciting to you as the ice capades, allow us to set you straight. We’re not talking some local yokels out building snowmen. We’re talking about an international competition that’s been giving snowmen self-esteem issues for 20 years.
This year’s 13 participants from seven countries were chosen from 250 invitees, based on the designs they submitted. Their challenge? Carve 20-ton blocks of snow into their proposed design. The blocks, measuring 10-feet wide by 12-feet tall, are sculpted with hand tools such as carrot peelers, chicken wire, saws, and of course, the artists’ bare hands. Power tools, colorants and internal support structures are prohibited.
The snow blocks are created by Breckenridge Ski Resort, loaded into dump trucks, and chugged into town where a huge snow blower, 13 wooden snow block frames, and a half-dozen volunteers await. There, a few loads of snow get blown into the wooden frame, the volunteers hop in and stomp it down, hop back out, and then more snow is blasted in. The process repeats until the frame is full of perfectly packed snow. The Town of Breckenridge assures us that no volunteers have been inadvertently blasted. But an anonymous man reported that he volunteers every year in the hopes of becoming one with the snow block.
Teams of four then have 65 hours to work on their assigned snow block, including pulling an all-nighter the evening before the judging. Team China, was just putting the finishing touches on a piece called “Happy Herdsmen” around 6:00 p.m. But everyone else looked barely half done. Rumor had it that Team China sent only two sculptors, instead of the usual four, and that these two gentlemen worked non-stop. Considering neither spoke any English, EO could not confirm this. But they looked to be reveling in the fact that the other teams would scramble all night long to hit the 10:00 a.m. completion deadline, while they would enjoy a long, languid slumber.
Rob Neyland, captain of Team Breckenridge (one of six US teams), and one of the original founders of the competition, assured EO that this is where the real fun starts. Neyland secures a city permit for a bonfire where sculptors and viewers can warm themselves from the inside out with some choice liquor. Neyland himself, smelling as if he’d already been indulging, promised it was just one, to kick off the evening. “No drinking and sculpting,” he quipped.
For sure, Team Breckenridge was working on one of the riskier designs of the competition, “String Theory,” which depicted a violinist in mid-strum. The thin 10-foot tall bow would be a gravity-defying phenom if the team could pull it off, according to Neyland. How did he think the odds were? “Come back later tonight when the going gets good,” he said.
Come back we did. To a flurry of, well, what goes on in Breckenridge stays in Breckenridge. You’ll have to see for yourself next year. We will say that we stumbled into the judging the next morning 45 minutes late, dazed, a bit confused, and truly amazed at the 13 flawless sculptures gleaming in the bluebird morning sun.
