It’s 90 degrees in Denver as Michael Pizzuto bundles up in winter gear.
“You lose most of your heat through your head and feet,” Pizzuto says, as he layers thick pants with a brown liner, a black jacket, heavy boots, bright orange gloves and a black hat. “You have to dress like you’re going to be in snow and ice, like it’s winter all year.”
Complaints about summer heat freeze as Pizzuto opens the bright blue door on the docks at Reddy Ice marked “keep closed at all times.” Inside, snow blankets the back wall, every breath is visible and a 320-pound block of ice awaits carving.
For Pizzuto, who owns Creative Ice Sculptures Inc., taking a chain saw to ice is not just a way to stay cool. Ice carving is a mix of practicality and imagination that has kept him in the freezer for more than 35 years.
“It’s functional and artistic at the same time,” Pizzuto says.
An ice sculpture’s dual purpose, to keep food cold and be attractive, requires carvers to have dual personalities. The businessman in Pizzuto takes orders for commercial projects that call for logos, sponsors and tubes to pour liquor drilled into the ice. The artist in him makes long, sweeping, frond-like arcs up the ice’s back, giving the light a place to sparkle.
“That’s where the real interest for ice sculpture is,” Pizzuto says. “When you put details on it, you play with light. It’s like a gemstone. The more facets it has, the more it’s going to reflect and refract the light.” Whether the project is commercial, like a deck of cards for a casino, or personal, like a tower of hearts for a wedding, one truth is unavoidable – ice melts.
“It’s ephemeral,” Pizzuto says. “You can’t hang on to it and manipulate it. Your ego has to stand back and let go.”
In less than an hour for a small piece, five for a large piece, all that remains of the once crystal-like image is tepid water. Pizzuto’s Japanese training and business sense help him accept the temporary nature of his work.
“If you’re in business, melting’s good,” Pizzuto says. “If you want something to be permanent, go carve pyramids in Egypt. That will last 2,000 years.”
Pizzuto’s carvings are threatened by more than sunlight. Machines with computer-guided lasers can now make an ice sculpture in minutes, compared with the hour or more it takes Pizzuto. Even though the machines can make good business sense, especially for large orders of smaller pieces, Pizzuto says they lack the personal quality that high-end caterers shell out $190 to $350 for.
While Pizzuto’s pieces may not be the eighth world wonder, they are painstakingly cold work. Sitting in the freezer in front of a 4-foot rectangular piece of ice, Pizzuto first roughs in a silhouette of the image on the ice face.
Switching to electric power tools, Pizzuto slices an inch or two into the ice, giving the shape depth. He then wields a chain saw through the excess areas, lopping off large chunks and spraying an arc of fine, white powder across the room.
Toward the end of an hour, Pizzuto takes smaller tools to carve the details, which will make the piece shine. Long, leaf-like cuts up the back made with a flat chisel give the ice a palm-frond look. Wavy lines quickly engraved with a power tool make a place for light to bounce.
While the final 3-foot product took only an hour to finish, Pizzuto’s largest pieces took days to build. In 1991 and 1992, he helped construct a 30,000-pound ice castle and 20-foot clock in downtown Denver for First Night Colorado.
“We needed forklifts, trucks and palettes,” Pizzuto says. “It was more construction than an art project.”
The ice castle, complete with moat, drawbridge and buttresses, is one of the few projects Pizzuto has not watched melt. Instead, it was demolished with a wrecking ball.
“It melted together and formed one solid block of ice,” Pizzuto says.
In addition to New Year’s projects, Pizzuto’s portfolio includes a train large enough for a man to sit in, a cake filled with real flowers and a miniature roller coaster, all born in the chill of a freezer.
The perpetual winter in his studio does nothing to slow Pizzuto while he works. There’s no flinching when he stops, takes off his gloves and brushes the shavings from the ice with his bare hands.
When Pizzuto steps from the freezer, his protective layers of clothing melt under the glare of sun.
The 40 blocks of ice that sit in the freezer behind him are destined to melt too, and possibly one day become the frozen canvas for another sculptor’s hands.
“It’s the most environmentally friendly carving medium there is,” Pizzuto says. “As it melts it goes back into the whole cycle.”
Staff writer Joan Gandy can be reached at 303-820-1281 or jgandy@denverpost.com.
