Before, I’ve talked about ice falling during parties or brunches. That’s when it’s not ever supposed to happen. Those sculptures should be very safe: structurally robust enough so that they won’t collapse until well after the guests have left and stable enough so that there’s no chance of toppling over.

    However, during competitions, the carver often turns those rules on their head: the sculpture MIGHT not collapse until after the judges have finished and if the sculpture doesn’t at least LOOK as if it might topple, then perhaps the carver should redesign it and try again next time. Daring is the norm and danger is ever present.

    Because I’ve tried very hard at times to push my own limits during competitions, I’ve had carvings fall. I believe that if I’d never had a piece fall during competition, then that would be a sure sign that I wasn’t going nearly far enough with my designs. Once, during one of the NICA National Championships (2001), I’d carved a serpent and dragon intertwined. I wasn’t completely happy with my piece, but I felt that I had pretty well pushed things structurally. I was, however, confident that my piece would hold, so I left to look at the other carvings when my heat was over. Probably because the sun had come out not long before, my confidence turned out to be arrogance and I believe a small, but crucial weld failed in the sunlight (the tent that I used while carving  was not allowed during the judging process.) Even though I was off looking at other sculptures, I could hear the crunch of its collapse, immediately followed by the gasps from people who actually saw it happen.

    Usually, a carver will compete with the sincere desire for his sculpture to hold up long enough for judging and photos. Unfortunately, I have to confess that at least once, all I wanted was for my piece to fall down so that I could go home. At an earlier NICA National Championships, I was carving a piece in bright sunlight on an unusually warm day. There were few tents at this event and many carvers were trying to complete complex carvings in tough conditions. Several carvers were propping long tables up on their ends to give their ice some minimal shade. I was too inexperienced to know how important the shade was and I carved away with few precautions. As things went from bad to worse, I knew in my heart that I wasn’t going to end up with anything that I wanted anyone else to see. But I kept carving, perhaps hoping that things would get better, but also knowing that if I were just a little too aggressive with my ice, it would fall and I could blame my incompetent effort on the conditions. I pushed too hard, it fell, and that was it. Hopefully, I walked away with a little warm weather carving experience, but I know I walked away with a little shame as well.