Once a Glacier
A Virtual Reality film that tells the story of a relationship between a girl and a piece of glacier,
where as the girl grows up, the existence of the glacier is threatened.
Interactive Virtual Reality Film (15 min)
Once a Glacier tells the story of a relationship between a girl and a glacier. As the girl grows older, the existence of the ice is threatened, and the viewer is taken on a journey through her seemingly futile efforts to protect what was once an entire glacier. The story is inspired by Jiabao Li’s own experience from two years she lived in Alaska, where she was the young girl protecting a piece of ice in the freezer. In Inupiaq tradition, a tribe of indigenous people from northwestern Alaska, glaciers carry memories from the past and communicate them in song. The climate crisis has become a terrifying reality that includes seeing the end of glaciers—the end of these sung histories—happen before our eyes. Once a Glacier shows a gesture of nurturing, and whether the girl’s efforts are successful, the work suggests a poignant level of grace and humility for moving forward into the future.
The team recorded the sound on the glaciers in Alaska and modeled the glaciers from the satellite data of Matanuska glaciers, to document the disappearing nature. The VR film relates the life of a human to natural phenomena. We think of nature's time scale as millions of years and humans’ are under a hundred, yet with the current speed of climate change, many glaciers are vanishing within our lifetime. Glacial time, once was slow, is now fast. By telling the story of the life journey of a piece of glacial ice and its glacier of origin along with the life of a girl, the film makes this human-nature timescale tangible.
The film has received critical acclaim at SXSW, IDFA, and Raindance, was nominated for Best Immersive Experience, Best Immersive Experience for Social Impact, and won the Best VR Short award at Cannes World Film Festival.
Exhibition view at Today Future Biennale: To Your Eternity
Live performance at IDFA, Amsterdam. Augmented with motion capture, the dancer embodies the glacier, tracing the memory of glacier from ice age to Anthropocene through her ice core. The audience confront the birth and death of glacier through the girl’s point of view.
Once a Glacier at Times Art Museum in Chongqing, China.
People can kayak to control the progression of the story.
The glaciers are modeled from the satellite data of Matanuska glaciers, to document the disappearing nature.
I could hear a distant song
calling me to cross bright threads
of silt-thick water
as they ribboned valleys new.
The music came from blue-
white sleep and green-
blue rough.
Through and through,
I brought myself
as near I could
to brightness, brilliance,
and near-silence
changed by what
was and what is,
between ice and water,
water and the dazzled air.
She raises into view,
luster and frozen elixir.
A tattering gown,
a crown of blue
like drowned sky,
hue of lupine
crushed underfoot
into teal gem—
nothing could be only cold
in her beautiful light.
Transformation
pouring at the brink,
her white gleam
of infinite winter
into water—
not a thaw or melt,
but the threat
of disappearance.
It all began with snow
remembering winter,
opening into the dazzle
of endless still blue after
countless storms.
At her feet
I understood
the ravishing mystery
as brilliant as hard stars
flickering into a river
shifting into veins
of cold,
enduring
love.
I am not alone.
I am the keeper of frozen memory
brimming always, of time
that should never end, of blue
ice pure to its blue core.
I am not alone.
A fragment of her beauty
still true to her vast, distant
splendor. I must work against
thaw, against the shifting
of everything to nothing.
I am not alone.
A purpose can be slow,
incremental. She is but a part
of winter, one I wish to protect
from dissolving into careless spring.
I am not alone.
I become patient and predictable,
I administer kindness
without thought for the breaking
ice that might want to be broken.
I am not alone.
I can make something whole again.
I can control my own affection,
always growing, always reminded
of the shimmer of need.
I am not alone.
Maybe my increasing purpose
is the custody of a certain kindness.
Caring for the girl in me,
the girl in the glacier,
we are not alone.
Together we remember
the parents we never really had,
the children we were, the small
perfect details we protect.
Preparing for return as sudden as a sheet of lightning,
to be alone.
What was love I could not leave to neglect and then abandon,
at best uncertain, at worst, dire.
The whole world disagrees with me.
Horrible and fast,
I see everything darkening.
There is nothing that remembers snow.
Oblivion. Obliteration.
Observing the world gone to ruin.
The glacier, too, is orphaned.
Did I imagine I could return perfection to a flawed swamp?
Did I think that I could restore the light of the unseen heavens reflected,
the firmament burning into hopelessness?
Parched and diminished,
I could not have had worse fears burn us.
I kept alive the deceit of restoration.
Instead, a wreck and devastation.
In a dream, I would see the guilty world
forgiven of its grime and waste.
In a dream, some purity amid pollution.
There is no sleep here, however—
I hover into nothing
while I grind the inevitable
facts into my own mind.
Old. Weak. Sick.
A glacier I might pronounce like grief.
I shut myself into my sorrow.
We recorded the sound on the glaciers in Alaska. In the local indigenous culture’s language, Tagish, both is the name of their tribe and means “the sound of the break-up of ice”.
This VR film relates the lifetime of a human to natural phenomena. We think of nature's time scale as millions of years and humans’ are under a hundred, yet with the current speed of climate change, many glaciers are vanishing within our lifetime. Glacial time, once was slow, is now fast. By telling the story of the life journey of a piece of glacial ice and its glacier of origin along with the life of a girl, the film makes this human-nature timescale tangible and warns the audience that climate change is happening right now and the consequences are within our lifetimes.
Director & Writer: Jiabao Li
Executive/Creative Producer: Jenny Qinya Guo
VR Artist: Denis Semenov
3D Artist: Kirill Klochkov
Sound Designer: Matt McCorkle
Poet: Joan Naviyuk Kane
Dancer, Choreographer: Dorothy Overbey
Illustration: Boxiang Yu
Grandma Voice-over: Carolyn Nahyoumaurak
Girl Voice-over: Annika Schmidt
Line Producer: Cooper Galvin
Advisor: Julie Decker, James Temte
Science Advisor: Marco Tedesco
Funding:
Anchorage Museum, Bloomberg Philanthropies
Rasmuson Foundation
Femme Futures Grant
Artists in Nature International Network
Special Thanks:
NEW INC, New Museum
Serpentine Gallery
Alaska State Museum
EPOCH Gallery