1.30.2004
MAAG 2004
The weekend before I left for the South Pole, I participated in the 4th Annual McMurdo Alternative Art Gallery (MAAG) -- McMurdo's "Burning Man." (see link at right to view work from past events).The participatory art event included break dancing, tap dancing, live experimental music, a fashion show, sculpture, installations, video art, food, prose, and more. Erik and I both worked hard for weeks on our submissions.
We kicked off the event with a procession by the "Super Snappy Kazoo Marching Band", complete with Tyvek uniforms and a (very small) colorguard. (I'm the one at left). Never thought I'd use those high-school Dance Machine moves again. They played, "When the Ants Come Marching In."
Once inside the venue, guests and participants wandered around to scheduled and unscheduled events on two floors. A favorite was the Fashion and Bra Show, an event with ties to an organization in the States aimed at raising awareness (and funding) for breast cancer research (see link at right).
Zoe shows off her fabulous grapes, and another woman gives new meaning to "science support".
I was impressed at the range and quality of the creative projects -- especially in the fashion show -- given the limited materials. We are in Antarctica after all. Traci, the woman in front, created 4 great dresses from tents.
For my contribution to the fashion show, I exhausted my interest in orange plastic construction fencing. This evening wear was inspired by (and created with) the same materials I used in a corresponding 12' installation. As you see here, the outfit comes with a matching dog collar and leash (I miss pets, and I was chicken to walk down the catwalk by myself).
The installation was entered (shoes off, please) through an opening in the suspended 12' square of -- you guessed it -- orange plastic construction fencing. The floor of this "room" was carpeted with bubble wrap. Snapping and popping, viewers walk across the floor to a second "room", created out of one of the cardboard/wooden trash bins seen around town. Crawling inside the 2' opening, one was immediately enveloped in sound (Gus Gus, "Is Jesus Your Pal") and sparkly light, sitting comfortably inside the reflective walls on a quilted tuffet (of the same material as my skirt).
The theme of this year's MAAG was "The Edge of Innocence". This made me think of William Blake's illustrated books of poetry, "Songs of Innocence," and "Songs of Experience". So, the installation and fashion I made were created with these (at first glance) opposite / related states of being in mind.
Erik explored the theme by re-appropriating video footage from the Wizard of Oz, and combining it with alternating stills of George Bush and Saddam Hussein from the news. The video of Dorothy and her pals in negative color (which gave it a haunting feel) was projected (on a sheet) over a band playing experimental music.
Some of you may have seen an earlier still triptych of the same theme Erik exhibited in Boulder before we left.
The weekend before I left for the South Pole, I participated in the 4th Annual McMurdo Alternative Art Gallery (MAAG) -- McMurdo's "Burning Man." (see link at right to view work from past events).The participatory art event included break dancing, tap dancing, live experimental music, a fashion show, sculpture, installations, video art, food, prose, and more. Erik and I both worked hard for weeks on our submissions.
We kicked off the event with a procession by the "Super Snappy Kazoo Marching Band", complete with Tyvek uniforms and a (very small) colorguard. (I'm the one at left). Never thought I'd use those high-school Dance Machine moves again. They played, "When the Ants Come Marching In."
Once inside the venue, guests and participants wandered around to scheduled and unscheduled events on two floors. A favorite was the Fashion and Bra Show, an event with ties to an organization in the States aimed at raising awareness (and funding) for breast cancer research (see link at right).
Zoe shows off her fabulous grapes, and another woman gives new meaning to "science support".
I was impressed at the range and quality of the creative projects -- especially in the fashion show -- given the limited materials. We are in Antarctica after all. Traci, the woman in front, created 4 great dresses from tents.
For my contribution to the fashion show, I exhausted my interest in orange plastic construction fencing. This evening wear was inspired by (and created with) the same materials I used in a corresponding 12' installation. As you see here, the outfit comes with a matching dog collar and leash (I miss pets, and I was chicken to walk down the catwalk by myself).
The installation was entered (shoes off, please) through an opening in the suspended 12' square of -- you guessed it -- orange plastic construction fencing. The floor of this "room" was carpeted with bubble wrap. Snapping and popping, viewers walk across the floor to a second "room", created out of one of the cardboard/wooden trash bins seen around town. Crawling inside the 2' opening, one was immediately enveloped in sound (Gus Gus, "Is Jesus Your Pal") and sparkly light, sitting comfortably inside the reflective walls on a quilted tuffet (of the same material as my skirt).
The theme of this year's MAAG was "The Edge of Innocence". This made me think of William Blake's illustrated books of poetry, "Songs of Innocence," and "Songs of Experience". So, the installation and fashion I made were created with these (at first glance) opposite / related states of being in mind.
Erik explored the theme by re-appropriating video footage from the Wizard of Oz, and combining it with alternating stills of George Bush and Saddam Hussein from the news. The video of Dorothy and her pals in negative color (which gave it a haunting feel) was projected (on a sheet) over a band playing experimental music.
Some of you may have seen an earlier still triptych of the same theme Erik exhibited in Boulder before we left.
1.29.2004
NON SEQUITUR
One of today's many food-service triumps -- a new mop! I'm reminded of an "Onion" (satirical newpaper) article with the headline: "Man Ashamed of Own Joy Upon Receiving New Mop Head." I can identify.
I'm not the only one dreaming of kittens. Here's Katelynn petting the fake cat in Highway One. We're getting desperate.
One of today's many food-service triumps -- a new mop! I'm reminded of an "Onion" (satirical newpaper) article with the headline: "Man Ashamed of Own Joy Upon Receiving New Mop Head." I can identify.
I'm not the only one dreaming of kittens. Here's Katelynn petting the fake cat in Highway One. We're getting desperate.
1.25.2004
9 MILLION GALLONS OF DIESEL
The Lawrence Gianella has just completed it's 48-hour offload of fuel that will power both McMurdo and the Pole for the next year. That's a lot of fuel. Once he's left port, the supply vessel will dock, offloading supplies of food and construction materials for the upcoming year. Then, we'll load it back up with our trash to take back to the states for recycling/landfill. According to the Antarctic Treaty, we're required to ship back EVERYTHING. Including human waste that has not been processed. The ice pier at right (covered with volcanic rock) is basically a 300 ft. deep ice cube, suspended in the harbor. There's talk about rebuilding it, because the first icebreaker to dock ran into it, knocking off a big chunk.
Earlier in the week we were lucky enough to tour the Coast Guard Ice Breaker (#10), the Polar Sea.
If we're REALLY lucky, they'll give us cruises out to open water once the Vessel offload is complete.
Iceberg types, defined.
Birdseye radar?
The Lawrence Gianella has just completed it's 48-hour offload of fuel that will power both McMurdo and the Pole for the next year. That's a lot of fuel. Once he's left port, the supply vessel will dock, offloading supplies of food and construction materials for the upcoming year. Then, we'll load it back up with our trash to take back to the states for recycling/landfill. According to the Antarctic Treaty, we're required to ship back EVERYTHING. Including human waste that has not been processed. The ice pier at right (covered with volcanic rock) is basically a 300 ft. deep ice cube, suspended in the harbor. There's talk about rebuilding it, because the first icebreaker to dock ran into it, knocking off a big chunk.
Earlier in the week we were lucky enough to tour the Coast Guard Ice Breaker (#10), the Polar Sea.
If we're REALLY lucky, they'll give us cruises out to open water once the Vessel offload is complete.
Iceberg types, defined.
Birdseye radar?
1.19.2004
THEY CALL THIS THE "HERO SHOT"
Taken at the ceremonial pole (about 50 feet away from the geographic pole). -50 below (with wind chill).
Taken at the ceremonial pole (about 50 feet away from the geographic pole). -50 below (with wind chill).
1.17.2004
Me in front of the New York Air Guard LC-130 that took us to the Pole in just 3 hours -- after we sat in the airport shuttle at the runway for 7 hours until the fog lifted. At least we got hot lunch at the runway galley.
First class seating.
View before we reached the Antarctic Plateau (flat).
J-13, the jamesway in Summer Camp I stayed in the first night.
The United States of America Welcomes You to the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Dome.
Just inside the mouth.
Peeking into the dome.
The orange metal village inside.
Look closely and you can see a rubber chicken hanging from the skylight.
There's even a garden of plastic flowers.
View of the new station from the Dome mouth -- with the "beer can" in the foreground.
This is Justice. He's an astrophysicist. He took me on a tour of the Dark Sector, where most of the science research lives. At right is Viper, the telescope used to detect microwaves from deep space, most likely from the Big Bang. The data collected gives us information about the creation of the universe and stars. I also talked with another scientist from Berkeley who explained that their research (among others) also shows the universe will continue to expand, instead of eventually contracting under gravity (as previously accepted). The accelerating expansion of Dark Matter and Dark Energy under gravity (which is not well understood) is the cause. Fascinating.
This is the building which houses the Viper, and Daisy (another microwave telescope) shown at right.
1.14.2004
90 DEGREES SOUTH (PART 3)
The room belongs to Keros Johnson, the DA I'm relieving for R&R at balmy McMurdo (it's around 32 degrees there on average right now, as opposed to the -22 below here) before his winter-over here at the Pole. He'll be the only DA. It's comforting to be in someone's personal space, with his books and photos, tapestries, clothes.
The first night I stayed in a Jamesway 1/8 mile from the Station. A Jamesway is a small arched canvas and plywood structure, about 6 rooms. My room was divided from the hall by a thick canvas curtain, and from the room next door by a thin piece of unpainted particle board. They gave me a metal can to pee in during the night. Bare bones. Felt like I was living in a M.A.S.H. episode.
Well, it's my bedtime now, 10:30 am. I've switched over to the night shift while I'm here, and work from 9pm to 7am.
The room belongs to Keros Johnson, the DA I'm relieving for R&R at balmy McMurdo (it's around 32 degrees there on average right now, as opposed to the -22 below here) before his winter-over here at the Pole. He'll be the only DA. It's comforting to be in someone's personal space, with his books and photos, tapestries, clothes.
The first night I stayed in a Jamesway 1/8 mile from the Station. A Jamesway is a small arched canvas and plywood structure, about 6 rooms. My room was divided from the hall by a thick canvas curtain, and from the room next door by a thin piece of unpainted particle board. They gave me a metal can to pee in during the night. Bare bones. Felt like I was living in a M.A.S.H. episode.
Well, it's my bedtime now, 10:30 am. I've switched over to the night shift while I'm here, and work from 9pm to 7am.
90 DEGREES SOUTH (PART TWO)
While I'm thinking of it, I'll tell you about the woman I met in the store who had just skiied here solo, missing the world record by just a day. There's another woman camped out by the Pole who also just arrived by ski, and she did set the world record. I'll find out more and report back (names, times, origin point, etc.). The one I met was a sight -- smiling wide, eyes very bright and intense, skin like leather, orange with open sores (frostbite) on her nost, hair in a tangle, probably hasn't bathed in a month, skin and bone swimming in a red snowsuit. Wow. She was bumping into everything, dropping almost everthing she touched on the shelves. A bit delerious I can imagine.
My room is approx. 5' wide by 12' long, room enough for a single bed, a small closet, and a bedside table. The escape hatch is a 2' square freezer door, which leads out to the roof, covered in mattresses leading to the greenhouse (which I haven't visited yet -- I'm rationing my sightseeing, it's a small town).
While I'm thinking of it, I'll tell you about the woman I met in the store who had just skiied here solo, missing the world record by just a day. There's another woman camped out by the Pole who also just arrived by ski, and she did set the world record. I'll find out more and report back (names, times, origin point, etc.). The one I met was a sight -- smiling wide, eyes very bright and intense, skin like leather, orange with open sores (frostbite) on her nost, hair in a tangle, probably hasn't bathed in a month, skin and bone swimming in a red snowsuit. Wow. She was bumping into everything, dropping almost everthing she touched on the shelves. A bit delerious I can imagine.
My room is approx. 5' wide by 12' long, room enough for a single bed, a small closet, and a bedside table. The escape hatch is a 2' square freezer door, which leads out to the roof, covered in mattresses leading to the greenhouse (which I haven't visited yet -- I'm rationing my sightseeing, it's a small town).
90 DEGREES SOUTH
I'm writing you from my very small quarters -- UB-10 (Upper Berthing 10) under the Dome at South Pole Station. At about 3am this morning, while I was filling napkin dispensers and looking out over the ceremonial Pole marker, it hit me, "I'm at the SOUTH POLE! Filling napkins!" Inconceivable!
The South Pole is whole different ball game than McMurdo Station. McMurdo feels like a metropolis compared to this. There is a max of 240 people here, and 1200 at McMurdo. My friend Ildi (from Transylvania, but grew up in Reno!) accurately described the Pole as being like Cheers, "where everybody knows your name."
The galley is on the second floor of the New Station (under construction), a large 3-story rectangle which is built on stilts so the snow can blow underneath instead of burying it (like the defunct Dome). To get to the Dome from the New Station, I walk down 6 flights of yellow gridded metal stairs inside the (unheated) "Beer Can" -- a shiny corrugated steel cylinder at the end of the New Station. It feels like being in the guts of a space station -- ice everywhere, and tubes and ducts labeled "clean heat ---> used heat <------" etc. Once at the bottom of the Can, I walk through a set of heavy shiny metallic doors, the kind in meat lockers, walk down a long corridor of frozen metal (more tubes and ducts), through another set of the same doors, take a left, another hall, then into the mouth of the Dome. It's bizarre. This is the perfect setting for a Sci-fi alien film. Again, a courrugated metal arch, covered with ice crystals. Snow floor, leading into a strange village of bright orange metal buildings of all shapes and sizes.
They use every nook and cranny for storage, so my living quarters are surrounded by cereal boxes and other food. The kitchen staff has sleds at the bottom of the Beer Can, and uses them to cart food from this storage area back to the New Station. When the elevator isn't working, they ask people (via a cardboard sign at the bottom of the stairs) to help carry it up a case at a time.
Okay, I'm going to post this now, mid-thought, (and pre spell-check) because we're moments from losing the satellite connection. Communications are more tricky here. Personal phone calls are limited to Sunday and Monday mornings, and only with reservations. The internet is only available between midnight and 10am.
I'm writing you from my very small quarters -- UB-10 (Upper Berthing 10) under the Dome at South Pole Station. At about 3am this morning, while I was filling napkin dispensers and looking out over the ceremonial Pole marker, it hit me, "I'm at the SOUTH POLE! Filling napkins!" Inconceivable!
The South Pole is whole different ball game than McMurdo Station. McMurdo feels like a metropolis compared to this. There is a max of 240 people here, and 1200 at McMurdo. My friend Ildi (from Transylvania, but grew up in Reno!) accurately described the Pole as being like Cheers, "where everybody knows your name."
The galley is on the second floor of the New Station (under construction), a large 3-story rectangle which is built on stilts so the snow can blow underneath instead of burying it (like the defunct Dome). To get to the Dome from the New Station, I walk down 6 flights of yellow gridded metal stairs inside the (unheated) "Beer Can" -- a shiny corrugated steel cylinder at the end of the New Station. It feels like being in the guts of a space station -- ice everywhere, and tubes and ducts labeled "clean heat ---> used heat <------" etc. Once at the bottom of the Can, I walk through a set of heavy shiny metallic doors, the kind in meat lockers, walk down a long corridor of frozen metal (more tubes and ducts), through another set of the same doors, take a left, another hall, then into the mouth of the Dome. It's bizarre. This is the perfect setting for a Sci-fi alien film. Again, a courrugated metal arch, covered with ice crystals. Snow floor, leading into a strange village of bright orange metal buildings of all shapes and sizes.
They use every nook and cranny for storage, so my living quarters are surrounded by cereal boxes and other food. The kitchen staff has sleds at the bottom of the Beer Can, and uses them to cart food from this storage area back to the New Station. When the elevator isn't working, they ask people (via a cardboard sign at the bottom of the stairs) to help carry it up a case at a time.
Okay, I'm going to post this now, mid-thought, (and pre spell-check) because we're moments from losing the satellite connection. Communications are more tricky here. Personal phone calls are limited to Sunday and Monday mornings, and only with reservations. The internet is only available between midnight and 10am.
1.2.2004
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
New Year arrived about a day and a few hours before it reached you North American friends. We ran out to Hut Point under the midnight sun just in time to hear the Coast Guard icebreaker sound its horn. Unbelievable setting. We could see the "Coasties" dotting the ice around the ship. Apparantly they're not allowed to drink on board -- so many of them got out to celebrate.
It travelled all the way from Washington state and is circling just outside of town in the bay. It's going to dock any hour (which one is uncertain -- there are bets on it). I can't get enough of looking at the ship. Feels like visitors from the past or the future or another planet have come to greet us. The excitement around town is palpable -- and talk has turned to travel plans and return to family and friends.
Before running out to hut point we experienced a traditional Antarctic New Year at the BFC, complete with martinis, the ball drop, and moustaches for everyone (I managed to successfully avoid that part).
New Year arrived about a day and a few hours before it reached you North American friends. We ran out to Hut Point under the midnight sun just in time to hear the Coast Guard icebreaker sound its horn. Unbelievable setting. We could see the "Coasties" dotting the ice around the ship. Apparantly they're not allowed to drink on board -- so many of them got out to celebrate.
It travelled all the way from Washington state and is circling just outside of town in the bay. It's going to dock any hour (which one is uncertain -- there are bets on it). I can't get enough of looking at the ship. Feels like visitors from the past or the future or another planet have come to greet us. The excitement around town is palpable -- and talk has turned to travel plans and return to family and friends.
Before running out to hut point we experienced a traditional Antarctic New Year at the BFC, complete with martinis, the ball drop, and moustaches for everyone (I managed to successfully avoid that part).
