Shoshannah White

Ice, at times translucent, opaque and often almost invisible, is in a constant state of flux. In glacier form, it's melting, growing, compressing. From liquid to solid, it holds our planetary history in its transparent layers and informs the future based on the past. Raised in a family of artists and psychotherapists during a critical time in the environmental movement, I grew up close to the sea with images appearing out of nowhere in the darkroom and hidden worlds revealed in the symbols of dream. Still today, I’m interested in ideas of the invisible or unknown. In October, I had the opportunity to join scientists and artists on a three-week sailing residency exploring the fjords of Svalbard within the Arctic Circle. While there, human-impact was barely visible – yet clearly seen as glaciers recede and new geographies emerge where mapped peninsulas are morphing into islands and shorelines are in constant transition. Anchored miles from a calving glacier, you hear a rumble and moan. Time stops. Ice shifts. Then, collapse. There’s the swell of a wave. Minutes later the ice comes and goes... fresh-water becoming saline. The glacier is old, it is long, it’s made of water. It’s been compressed since before time was a concept and the ice crackles as it lets loose ancient air during the melt. We are connected. We are disconnected. I’ve just returned from the Prince Williams Sound in Alaska where I was collecting ice from receding glaciers. While there, I made photogram prints on site in a temporary darkroom, to study and record these transient, fragile and often transparent objects – fixing the ice in its fleeting state. As ice-cores are extracted and our history is mapped in the truth of ice, this work is an opportunity to explore a continually changing Polar landscape as well as many hidden worlds found within the glacier ice itself.