Program Note:

Out of whose womb came the ice creates a sonic and visual glimpse of a segment of the Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition (1914-17). In August 1914, at the onset of WWI, polar explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton gathered a crew of 27 men and set sail for the South Atlantic. They were in pursuit of the last unclaimed prize of the Heroic Age of Exploration: to be the first to cross the Antarctic continent by foot. Upon entering the Weddell Sea, they encountered unusually foul weather. Weaving south through the treacherous seas of ice, their ship, the Endurance, became trapped only 85 miles from their destination. After months of waiting for the ice to break, the ship was crushed and sank, leaving the crew stranded upon the ice floes without any means of contacting the outside world. In pursuit of survival, Shackleton and his crew endured 22 months traversing ice floes up the Antarctic Peninsula. The final leg included a deadly 800-mile open boat journey in their lifeboat, the James Caird, in hopes of reaching South Georgia Island. The crew was rescued on 30 August 1916; everyone survived. Though this expedition failed, it remains one of the most miraculous stories of polar exploration and human survival.

Out of whose womb came the ice looks at the expedition from the time the crew leaves port to the trapping of the Endurance in the Weddell Sea’s pack ice. The vocal and orchestra music focuses on the crew’s perception of the Endurance in relationship to their surroundings. She goes from being simply a ship, to a lifeline and memento that connects them to the world they left behind. Once she sinks, they are truly left alone. The visuals and electronics offer narrative elements drawn directly from documents of the journey: journal entries of the crew and images by expedition’s official photographer Frank Hurley.

-Nina C. Young

Text: Original Text written by Nina C. Young and David Tinervia


Introduction/Exposition (*video projected text*)
Plymouth, August 8, 1914 – the onset of WWI.
All British nautical vessels are assigned to the war effort.
By royal exemption Sir Ernest Shackleton gathers an expedition crew of 27.
Their objective: to make the first successful Antarctic crossing, by foot.
The Queen gifts Shackleton a Bible. On the flyleaf, she inscribes a blessing.
The ship, the Endurance, sets sail for the South Atlantic.
Destination: Weddell Sea.

Part 1: Into the Weddell Sea
December 5, 1914.
Depart-South Georgia Island, continuing south.
Fair winds and following seas
Soon turn occult tides of salt and drift.

The Endurance dodges and weaves
A courtly dance,
As ice floe thickens.
More pressure.
More ice.
Surrender, in kind,
With a diminishing pace.

“May the Lord help you do your duty and guide you through all the dangers by land and sea.”
“May you see the Works of the Lord and all His Wonders in the deep.”

Part 2: Trapped in pack ice
January 1915.
Position: 75°23′S, 42°14′W
Trapped in pack ice,
She is steadfast, bound,
Illuminated as stone,
Captive to the bed of frost.

Just 85 miles from landfall,
The barometer steadily drops:
29.79…
29.61…
29.48…
29.39…
29.25

But the clock stops for no one,
Even in the frozen deep.
Polar winter approaches.
The half-light fades.
No warmth.
No movement.
Dead calm.

Marooned in darkness.
Swaddled in bitter haze.
Unreality cloaks the horizon:
Drawn up, icebergs hang upended in the sky,
The aurora lures in ocular splendor,
Deferential to the drones of ice, sea, and weather.

Naught to do but wait in uncertain delight
For the turbulent, impending dawn of spring,
Be it harbinger or savior?
The melt shall soon release or devour.

Part 3: Ice will not yield
October 27, 1915
Position: 65°05′S, 51°30′W
Still fast, it is slow to arrive.
“Do you hear that?”

The Endurance, she bows, shudders, and cries.
The pack pressing mercilessly against her sides.
Her timbers crack, her wounds gape, her hull groans.
Ripping forward, backward, and side to side.
The clock ticks, the water rises.
Ice will not yield, nor spring tide subside.

No longer a ship,
But a torn and twisted shell,
Greenheart and Oak and Man,
Gutted, and strewn about the restless slabs.

The order it is given:
Abandon, take refuge.
Upon the very floe
Which deals her wrecking blows.

Atop the ice, he looms –
Stark black silhouette, endless white.
Surrender, all we know.
Tear out the Queen’s blessing.
Toss the Bible onto the snow.

Part 4: Job 38:29-30
Out of whose womb came the ice?
And the hoary frost of Heaven, who hath gendered it?
The waters are hid as with a stone.
And the face of the deep is frozen.

Part 5: Her final bow
“She’s going, boys,”
November 21, 1915.

Suspended, paralyzed, to see her eyes shine.
Motionless, but rising.
In agony, her final bow.
She slips beneath the ice,
Victim of the polar void.

Now, alone:
28, on a continent of ice –
Sterile purgatory.
Blinding white.
Is it enough to be alive?
Position: 68°38′S, 52°28′W
Drifting NNW.