ARTISTS TALKING

# 11 [9 February 2007]

It somehow seems appropriate to come full circle and make a last post sitting back at home at my kitchen table.

The journey back was pretty gruelling, made worse by being unused to hoards of people and shops at airports selling stuff that no one really needs. For two and a half months I've been used to not carrying money, mobile phone, or having to negotiate traffic. I've worn the same clothes as every other person at the base, dispensed with make up and lived in rigger boots. It has been incredibly freeing and I feel very privileged to have been given the opportunity to dip my toe in the Antarctic.

I've often felt that the stuff of everyday living back in the UK gets in the way of letting go and allowing yourself freefall thinking, having the courage to explore areas you feel unsure about takes time and space. I had a long conversation with Andy one of the scientists on the plane back from Santiago about how its the same for scientists but its an easy thing to avoid by being very busy.

One of the last things I did at Rothera was to give everyone a glass reagent vessel and asked them to fill it with whatever they wanted about themselves/ the antarctic (or to keep it and put paper clips in.......) I wasn't sure if it would be taken seriously but I was overwhelmed by the enthusiasim and thoughtfullness that people approached the task with.

I've definately come back feeling I should be more careful with my mark making in the world.

# 10 [2 February 2007]

This is sadly going to be my last entry from Antarctica. I got back from Sky Blue to a barrage of emails and deadlines and reality gripped rather vice like.

I've built my furnace and have had lots of successful firings, from taking 4 hours to get the glass up to a good melting temperature (around 1150 C), I've perfected the burner, flue and insulation combo to now only take 2 and a half hrs....and believe me when you're sitting outside on a pile of stones in the cold Antarctic sleety snow (tues) waiting, it makes a difference.

It seems very appropriate that trying to make usable glass here is an uphill challenge. The beer/wine bottles melted down make really shitty difficult to work glass, when the glass is finally at a temp to use, the cold wind is very efficient at cooling everything down again.... very quickly. But everything about human presence here is a challenge, we're basically just not supposed to be here.....why should it be anything other than hard?

I pulled lots of thin glass strands yesterday with Kai the pissed off plumber and used them interactively around the base. This morning I walked to the bay past Weddell and Elephant seals in my orange boiler suit to go and collect some chunks of sea ice to use with the molten glass, thinking to myself 'where else in the world would I be doing something like this?' and it was beginning to feel normal.

One of the scientific programmes in BAS uses a lot of ice core samples, the different layers record different environmental changes and the air spaces in between the ice crystals contain gasses particular to a given time......dinosaur breath?..... With the help of Andy I managed to saw/drill out a sample of my own from the blue ice at Sky blue (which had filled itself in in less than 24hrs). I'm going to send it back to Cambridge with the scientific ice samples, it already looks different.....a big rough hewn chunk as oppose to the rows of neat tubular columns. I'm going to do lots of my own tests on it and use it in combination with video.

Being an artist here has often seemed beside the point. The Antarctic is the point, it should always win, it does everything you could possibly imagine from subtle mark makings to crashing over exuberance...it fills you up inside your head and soul but simultaneously strips you bare leaving you standing reeling trying to work it all out.

# 9 [29 January 2007]

If I hadn't been lucky enough to visit Sky Blue, I wouldn't have experienced what conditions in the Antarctic are truly like. Here at Rothera, life is very comfortable in our centrally heated buildings, hot water, and meals cooked for the 80 or so people on the base by Cyril our French chef. Rothera is the biggest of the BAS bases, and with the construction of a large new building taking place this summer, its getting even bigger.

Sky Blue is a plastic hut and a couple of pyramid tents placed there because of its proximity to a large glacial blue ice sheet scoured flat by the prevailing wind, which means it can be used as a runway for the BAS planes. The basic job of the people at Sky Blue is the maintenance of the runway, and the unloading of barrels of aviation fuel which are then used by the twin otters to get even deeper into the field. I was able to co-pilot a flight further south from Sky Blue into the Ellsworth mountains where a field party were camped on an the Rutford ice stream moving 1 metre a day.

It was a running joke at sky blue that every small task we had to do was 'an operation', 'operation get out of bed for a pee in the middle of the night' meant putting on coat, hat, gloves, sunglasses,bashing tent free of snow, untying tent, trudging to the 'turdicle' (a deep hole dug through the snow into which we were slowly forming a rather interesting giant frozen turd stalactite).

'Operation make a cup of tea' – first dig your snow........

Fresh food was a novelty, and when the weather changed for the worse as it did we would often have a group of scientists and pilot to feed and find space for at night. Cooking for as many as 13 on one primus stove, and one fumy primus stove, with one onion, trying to avoid pasta yet again in the equivalent of a bus shelter was an interesting skill.

It snowed when I was at sky Blue, which meant clearing the run way. Using a teaspoon to empty the bath would be a good way of describing the operation. Six of us working on shifts round the clock for 3 days on 2 inadequate snowblowers.....knackering, but team building too. Adam the mechanic from Lancashire had a brilliant turn of phrase 'this is neither fishing or mending nets'.

In between refueling planes, cooking and clearing runways, skyblue was a hugely inspiration place that fitted my way of thinking, and has made clear lots of directions, I will never forget it.

# 8 [25 January 2007]

I'm not sure how to start this entry.

I got back last night after nearly 3 weeks working at Sky Blue, an isolated BAS refuelling location 500miles south of Rothera, 75 degrees south on the Antarctic mainland. The stripped back extremes of the environment and struggles of basic living have been exhilarating, exhausting, and emotional.

I'm just going to post some photos for now

# 7 [3 January 2007]

I'm posting this a bit early because I'm off to live in a melon hut at the Sky-blue station for a week........I'll explain it all when I get back........

Ok, in answer to everyone's question 'have you made any work yet?'.........yes, but not in the way everyone 's expecting. I've transported piles of refractory bricks and materials all the way from the UK so that I can build a small glass furnace on the base, I'm going to try and get the temp to 1200 C and melt some of the waste glass bottles (no shortage of supply........)to do some experimental work with the hot glass and ice. I've been allocated a space outside at the back of the base where I can build it away from other buildings for obvious reasons, but this needs to be cleared of a mountain of stones, making the area flat and building them up to provide some shelter from the wind. Everyone's been very busy with unpacking supplies and recycling the packaging since the ship left, so basically I've been helping around base and waiting for the JCB digger to be fixed. I've enjoyed having a period of getting to know how the base functions instead of launching straight in to making things.

The 'miracle span' is where all the recycling happens, and I've spent sometime working with Andy in there. All the paper, cardboard and plastic is separated and squeezed by a machine into manageable blocks which are then shipped all the way back to the UK. Everyone's really sick of how much packaging comes on stuff that's delivered, especially plastic. When you're living within a small enclosed circuit of consumption and waste, the problems of waste in the community becomes so much more glaringly obvious.

I'm actually quite drawn to the plastic, and have been using it to make some work - its transparency and abundance seem as much part of the base as the ice and snow.

I ran a 10k race dressed as a penguin, drank too much and danced in the sledge store on new years eve. The band was brilliant.

# 6 [29 December 2006]

When I was preparing to come here, I had in mind the whole time Antarctica as a place. My project was based around the environment – ice and light movement, and their transience and dynamic nature in relation to glass making and object ownership. This is summer here and everything is indeed very obviously in continual movement....3 weeks before I arrived, the sea around Rothera was completely frozen, now huge ice bergs that are here one minute can either slowly drift away or let out a thunderous roar and quite literally turn upside down and implode in front of your eyes. Sea ice gently chinks together and ice drips everywhere.

Most of the scientific field trips take place in the summer, so groups of 2-4 scientists and field assistants (very clever fit young people who know how to avoid falling down a crevasse and climb mountains, ski, and generally make sure everyone stays alive) have to be transported out by little twin otter planes to remote locations where they can take measurements and collect data. Weather here changes by the hour though and plans change continually – no one seems unduly stressed by having to postpone their project though, its just part of being here.

Antarctica is beginning unravel.... it means more than just the physical environment, it's the people here that are equally dynamic. There are builders, plumbers, glaciologists, electricians, biologists, boat handlers, physicists, engineers, meteorologists, maintenance staff, radio communication controllers, pilots, chefs, divers. Every time I sit down next to someone, I learn something new. Exchanges of information, the unselfish sharing of knowledge, and the feeling of everyone working together towards a common goal in an isolated place is giving the drama of the environment some competition.

Christmas came and went....Cyril, the French chef made a brilliant dinner and gave us a Queens speech....don't ask!

Kirk took Simon, Chris,Titus and me down an ice crevasse and Ally, Matt and I built a snow rabbit with wings and big breasts.

# 5 [22 December 2006]

Rothera has been a busy place over the last few days, people constantly arriving and departing, new arrivals and 'winterers' (those that make up the 20 or so individuals that stay over the winter without visitors or food drops from the JCR) mixing in together. I'm sharing a room with Ally, one of the divers who has signed up to be at Rothera for 3 years – quite a commitment! No wonder she has more clothes than me....but only just.

One of the first things we had to do on arrival was the field training. The Brits are the only country that allow recreational sports around their Antarctic bases. The direct area around us is full of crevasses and being summer, ice sheets breaking off as they near the sea, so we're taken out into the field and taught the most amazing skills – abseiling (just ask me about french prussiks and jumars now! whether I'll remember them in a weeks time is another story.......), ice axe arrests, and basic body belaying. Oh yes, the skidoos are the transport of choice to get up the hill.

We camped out in tents the same as Captain Scott himself would have used, tilly lamps and 'man food' (wooden boxes issued for the field full of dried chicken korma, butter, 'biscuits brown' and lots of chocolate.....I sensed a high fat theme going on for obvious thermal reasons and thought it not the place to mention vegetables) kept us well fed (?)and warm. We slept on thick sheep fleeces inside massively fat sleeping bags, it was one of the best nights sleep I've had.

Matt, Chris, Rob, Jamie and I sat and snowboarded on the top of the hill at midnight, and went back to sit inside our tents to drink sloe gin and ponder the universe - another difficult night in the Antarctic........

# 4 [15 December 2006]

We're just approaching Rothera this morning after 10 days at sea.Yesterday was one of these days that will stay with me forever.....I'm just posting some pics for now until we get off the ship and the internet connection is better.

Ok, in my bunk finally at Rothera........ it's past midnight and still light outside. It doesn't matter that I know why its 24hrs daylight, it still feels bizarre and makes me feel that i shouldn't really be in bed, so I thought I'd write this instead.

The last 2 days have been a blur of sensory overload.

We all got up really early yesterday on the ship because we knew we'd be sailing through the spectacular Gerlache Straight (a narrow channel between Anvers and Brabant Islands and the main Antarctic peninsula). At 5am, the light was already blinding into the cabin – no more going outside anymore without putting on all the proper cold weather gear we were all issued with. There was a profound quiet on the top deck of the JCR that morning as we all tried to take in what was all around us. We use words like breathtaking, awesome, spectacular, so often that when we want to really use them for what they mean they've lost their impact. All of us were left hopelessly attempting photographs which could never touch how we felt on that cold, blindingly bright December morning before breakfast.

Birthday Long Island tea on the top deck, and a jolly off the ship to the old BAS base Faraday, now run by the Ukranians and called Verdansky all got squeezed in too.

Arriving today into Rothera has made me feel a bit low. It's been brilliant fun living on board ship....... a mixture of too many late nights, early mornings and excitement have kept me on an high. Now our ship has landed and we all change.

# 3 [10 December 2006]

This is now the 4th day of being at sea on board the James Clark Ross. We're out in the middle of Drakes Passage, a notoriously dangerous part of the sea where the Pacific joins the Atlantic in a 600-mile gap between South America and the Antarctic Peninsula. There's a big ocean swell which is proving quite challenging for some people, but so far I'm feeling rather pleased with my stomach's sea faring abilities. We've had it easy on board until today, now you've got to pay proper attention to what you leave where in case it goes flying. Last night it was Richard in his chair who slid gracefully across the floor.

We're making very slow progress because of the scientific work going on. The ship has to stop every few hours to to drop a device overboard which measures conductivity, temp, and depth, as well as a few other things. At the moment the ocean depth is 4000m, so it takes a while to get down and back up again.

I think I'm becoming institutionalised, and whats worse, I think I quite like it.......breakfast at 7.30 sharp, check e.mails, then maybe a visit to the ships gym (or ships cupboard with a few bits of equipment in it would be a more accurate description). Lunch at 12 sharp, followed by a variety from amongst the following – reading, photographing albatrosses, videoing unsuspecting people on board, talking, sorting said photos, thinking, drinking tea. Dress for dinner (oh yes, no slumming) 6.45 sharp, followed by retiring to bar, or up to the bridge to watch the birds and the sunset. The only fly in the ointment is that I foolishly agreed to give a talk about my work to everyone, other than that pretty much a perfect existence really.

# 2 [4 December 2006]

I arrived in the Falkland Islands on Saturday afternoon, thoroughly exhausted after 2 days of long haul travelling. The journey so far though has already been amazing, the people from BAS that are travelling with me are great fun and any fears I might have had about  not being part of a scientific team have completely disappeared......everyone so far is  enthusiastic and supportive of the writers and artists program.

 The flight across the Andes mountains into Santiago, and from Santiago down to Punta Arenas on the southern tip of Chile was, I thought , going to be what I'd be waxing lyrical about in this entry....... great brown paper crunckles of desert landscape gradually developing into mountainous peaks interspersed with grey blue glaciers. The mountains just seemed to keep on coming. Punta Arenas was not what I had expected from my mum's old photograph albums, it was gritty, hard working, cold and windy. I liked it though, it had a lively young population, and a 'take me as you find me' unpretentious feel.

The complete and utter show stopping, absolute winners so far on my trip (after a two and a half hour off road trip yesterday to Volunteer Point on a the north east inlet of east Falkland island) were the penguins!!!! People talk about the experience of swimming with dolphins as being a profound and moving experience, I think walking with penguins must be up there in the same league. There were 3 species of penguins, the inquisitive Gentoo's gathered quietly around me in a circle as I sat on the beach, I felt like a very honoured guest, and a little embarrassed by the intensity directed at me. The Magellan's slept at the entrance to their burrows and hurriedly crept away to scrutinise me shyly from below. The King penguins were stately and super model professional at standing is exquisite poses.

I have quite fallen in love with the penguins, especially the Magellans.