Behind the Image: Afloat
I started talking, half-jokingly, about trying to isolate an iceberg, which I know wouldn't be an easy task. But Jesse is always super keen to make my ideas come to life. He suggested that we could isolate an iceberg through a mix of towing and paddling. But, all we had for paddling was a hiking pole. As for towing, he suggested that he could place an ice screw into an iceberg, tie that to a rope and then we would be able to tow it from shore.
This image was taken during a mountaineering trip to the Mons Icefield, which is a sizeable area of ice on the divine (half in Banff National Park, Alberta, half in British Columbia). Mountaineering was the main purpose of the trip, but like all trips I like to take the opportunity for some photography. We spent three days making several ascents in the vicinity of the lake you see in the shot. And of course, we had vantage points of that lake from various summits around it.
We thought if there was time after we summited the various peaks we would just go chill by the lake, relax a bit and see if we could get creative with the camera. So, after our sixth ascent, it was early afternoon and we decided to stop by the lake on our way back to Mons Hut. There wasn’t anything specific I had in mind, but I absolutely love to photograph ice. When you have icebergs, mountains and glaciers, and you mix all that together with a model as keen as Jesse, you have all the ingredients to get something pretty cool (despite the harsh light conditions!).
We shot a variety of ideas involving Jesse and Mons Peak in the background and the lake and the icebergs. But I thought it would be cool to create an image where Jesse would be adrift on an iceberg, partly because I like those types of shots that are a little bit puzzling for the audience. Also, I have a pretty large collection of images of people stranded on little islands or icebergs.
I also wanted to create an image that leaves something to interpretation. In this case, that’s a vague commentary on the changes in the climate and glaciers and the way humans are impacted by that. Perhaps we are unknowingly (and in some ways knowingly) drifting into uncharted territory, on the world’s last little piece of ice. Or maybe the person is so engrossed in what they are doing that they didn’t notice winter had run out.
The lake itself is a feature that’s temporary, which makes it all the more exciting to work with.
As far as this specific image is concerned, the icebergs were plentiful but the wind had piled them all up together at one end of the like. It was quite a cluttered scene. My main concern right away from a composition standpoint was trying to simplify the scene.
I started talking, half-jokingly, about trying to isolate an iceberg, which I know wouldn't be an easy task. But Jesse is always super keen to make my ideas come to life. He suggested that we could isolate an iceberg through a mix of towing and paddling. But, all we had for paddling was a hiking pole. As for towing, he suggested that he could place an ice screw into an iceberg, tie that to a rope and then we would be able to tow it from shore.
So we tried to find a piece of ice and what transpired after was pretty comical. First, we needed a piece that was not too big, not too small. If it was too big it would snag on the bottom of the lake all the time. If it was too small, it wouldn’t support Jesse’s weight. We also needed to find an iceberg that Jesse could get onto from the shore somewhat easily.
So Jesse got on there and then through a mix of towing and paddling (and you'll see that in the behind-the-scenes), he eventually managed to drift away from the other icebergs, therefore simplifying the scene quite a bit.
I had Mons Peak and lots of ice, which was a prominent background. So I wanted to make Jesse pretty small to convey the scale. I opted to shoot from a little higher up the bank, a little bit further from Jesse, and with a bit of a wider lens. I didn’t want to go too wide so that the background would still be quite prominent. When you shoot too wide, the mountains get very, very small and you lose that feeling of awe in the shots.
I placed Jesse right in the middle to align with Mons Peak. He kept drifting around so it was up to me to travel up and down the shore to try to keep him aligned. And then we tried a variety of body positions.
I shot lots of variations of this image but this was the short I liked the best. In the end, I felt that it conveyed the vision that I'd had on the shore prior to messing with the icebergs. And I thought it was a unique image of a feature that probably won't exist for very much longer.
Eventually, after a few attempts, Jesse managed to tie his hiking pole to the rope that he had with him, then threw his hiking pole onto the shore to a location where I was able to grab it. I pulled him back home to wrap up a little creative — and comical — session.
Settings:
Canon R5
Canon 15-35mm
f/2.8 lens
f/16
ISO 400 1/200s
Documenting Vanishing Ice: Q+A with Paul Zizka
I’ve been photographing ice since the very early stages of my career. Whether glaciers, ice caves, frozen lakes, or mountaintops, I would continuously find myself drawn to cold landscapes in search of ice in its many forms, textures, and hues. Icescapes are among the most dynamic, visually exciting, and rewarding places a photographer can document. But as I spent more time shooting ice, it became apparent that I was capturing something that is vanishing.
I’ve been photographing ice since the very early stages of my career. Whether glaciers, ice caves, frozen lakes, or mountaintops, I would continuously find myself drawn to cold landscapes in search of ice in its many forms, textures, and hues. Icescapes are among the most dynamic, visually exciting, and rewarding places a photographer can document. But as I spent more time shooting ice, it became apparent that I was capturing something that is vanishing.
As global temperatures rise, we risk the melting of our polar regions and glaciers. Beyond the long-term human and environmental consequences of melting ice, the loss of these frozen landscapes also signifies the loss of a unique and powerful experience. I realized that my calling as an artist is to document and celebrate ice before it disappears. It’s my responsibility to bring the beauty and mystery of these foreign, enchanting worlds to as many people as possible.
This realization led to the launch of my latest project, Cryophilia.
This project has been met with support, positivity, and much curiosity, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to answer some frequently asked questions.
1. What is Cryophilia?
Cryophilia is an effort to document the rapid changes in glaciers and to celebrate the beauty of glacial ice in Canada and around the globe.
2. How/when did the Cryophilia project start and how did it get its name?
“Cryophilia” comes from ancient Greek meaning “frost loving.” Cryophiles prefer or thrive at low temperatures. I’ve always been drawn to photographing ice, cold places, and the high latitudes and have spent countless hours documenting glaciers ever since I started my journey as a photographer. Cryophilia is a personal commitment to investing a lot of my time and energy as an artist over the next several years to bring to light the changes that are happening in glacial environments and also the incredible beauty of these inhospitable locations.
3. What does the next phase of this project look like?
Over the next few years, I plan to focus a vast portion of my attention and efforts on collecting images from glacial environments, both here at home in the Canadian Rockies and abroad, and bring the photographs to the world. I believe photography has the power to stir up emotion, generate awareness and incite change when other means of communication fail. Eventually, my hope is to convey my findings in a cohesive way through the creation of a book and the presentation of an exhibit.
Ice cave explorations in the Canadian Rockies.
4. What is it about ice that intrigues and inspires you so much as an artist?
For one, there are the aesthetics: I never cease to be amazed by the multitude of shapes, forms, colours and textures a simple compound like ice can display. The possibilities appear infinite. As an artist, I find that ice renews itself and presents itself differently on every new exploration, which keeps the creative process exciting.
The other reason I am fascinated by ice, particularly glacier ice, is that it is becoming rarer, more precious — and it is becoming so at an alarming rate. The changes happening in glaciers worldwide warrant me to document them with urgency. Photography is the perfect medium to record what is occurring in these extremely dynamic environments.
5. What are some of the challenges that this project poses?
Accessing glaciers takes time, and so I expect time to be one of the key limiting factors in this project will be finding the time to visit those places repeatedly. Glaciated areas are characterised by the likelihood of inclement weather, which can make the photography process tedious at times.
6. What are you learning from this project?
I am more and more aware of how fast the ice is vanishing, and of the ramifications of that loss. Beyond the long-term human and environmental consequences of melting ice, for me the loss of these frozen landscapes also signifies the loss of a unique, powerful experience. The stillness and silence of cold places are humbling and wonderfully eerie; they are among some of the most magical on Earth.
7. What do you hope other people learn or consider when they encounter your project?
I sincerely hope that people develop an appreciation for how special, stunning and unique these environments are, and also how fast they are vanishing, on a timescale that we can relate to.
“Icicle Hollow” - Banff National Park, 2022.
8. Tell us the story behind one of the limited edition images in your growing Cryophilia collection.
The above photograph is an example of the fleeting, fascinating features I regularly come across on my visits to the local glaciers. I spotted a small opening in a cornice while wandering along the edge of the Columbia Icefield, and allowed my curiosity to get the best of me. Upon closer inspection, the hole opened onto a small, but stunning crystalline chamber within the glacier. At the end of the room, icicles dangled from the ceiling, shining brightly against the blue walls beyond. Those are beautiful, intricate features that only exist for a few days at most, and they are findings I enjoy sharing with the world, in the hope that they elicit a response to care for these places.
9. How can people support this project and your mission?
I encourage people to look at the images and let themselves be amazed by the diversity, dynamism, and beauty of those underdocumented environments. Let me know how the images make you feel. And develop an appreciation for glacial environments.
Keep following the project:
Official Cryophilia page: https://www.zizka.ca/cryophilia
Project News: https://mailchi.mp/zizka/cryophilia