Being one of the fastest melting glaciers in the Swiss Alps, famous Rhône gets covered with special shielding sheets every summer in attempt to slow down its disappearance. It is an impractical small scale solution for a pressing global concern. Alpine glaciers are expected to vanish by the end of this century, Swiss ones having experienced record melting in summer 2023 due to heatwaves pushing the freezing point above 5,000m.
Despite the best efforts of activists and scientists to highlight the urgency to preserve such unique biomes, glaciers are currently on the path to extinction. Inaccessible, remote, and perilous, their exploration is mainly reserved to a fraction of mankind. For most, they remain unfathomable, unconquerable and hence uninteresting - failing to become a strong catalyst for climate action.
I believe the peculiarity of Rhône relies in being one of the rare places on Earth where people can experience climate change in an intimate and relatable way. Stepping inside it means witnessing the frozen walls melt one drop at a time, coming to personally feel pain towards the loss of something invaluable and older than civilisation.
A gash on a damp old cloth marks the entrance to an ancient world. Its magnetic attraction, summoning the power of the unknown, recalls Fontana’s slashed canvases.
“Come in” seems to be saying “come see for yourself”.
The 100m long grotto carved inside the ice plateau gets re-drilled each year, 30% of it systematically disappearing every summer as the glacier retracts up to 10cm per day.
As the eye adjusts to darkness meeting the outline of thick frozen walls, the ice formations attract the focus, hit by timid torches scattered along the path that make them shimmer like rare gems.
A human silhouette ventures deeper into the grotto, where the climate tragedy unfolds dramatically. The glacier bursts into an engaging cry. Absolute silence, broken by echoes of infrequent droplets, evolves into a chorus of water rivulets. A few extra steps and the sound of a single drop hitting one fragment of prostatic plastic turns into a touching solo.
Rhythmical and inexorable, a reverberant beat marks the final hours of a heart sentenced to stop
Rhythmical and inexorable, a reverberant beat marks the final hours of a heart sentenced to stop
Surrounding the agonising limbs of Rhône, a valley of stale desolation provides scale to the magnitude of the environmental catastrophe. The ice lays bare in the distance, almost indistinguishable from the rocks due to an elevated presence of dust particles over its surface. Experts monitor any developments up close, recording data such as an alarming 85% of sun rays being absorbed by ice crystals, propelling their fusion. Over 70% of the extension of Alpine glaciers has been lost in the last 30 years; a trend that seems to have increased over the last decade.
Wide slashes on a rocky terrain, a visible mark of where ice used to be found a little over a decade ago, resemble a wounded corpse; their texture seamlessly matches that of tiny man-made ties, binding together bits of fabric in a desperate effort to slow down glacial shrinking. Cause and consequence, problem and resolution, fear and hope, unite here in a circle that mimics that of life itself.
All sounds vanish, absorbed in a thick blanket of clouds that lingers over the remnants of a silent mourning. Stabbed, our Earth is crying rivers of tears. All we are called to do is just be open to listen.
A lifeless mountain; a vanished glacier and the fleeting structure of what used to be known as Hotel Belvedere are the remains of the famous postcard view of Furka Pass. Making its way through the grim landscape, a torrent drools downstream, steady, like sand in the hourglass of the mountain.