‘Someone wanted a two metre block of ice with a cardboard cutout of Michael Bublé inside’: Ice sculpting is no chilled gig

‘I always loved painting and making sculptures at school,’ says Percy Salazar Diaz. ‘When I came to London I started to work in the Savoy hotel [as a demi chef]. They had ice sculptures there and I told the chef — I can do it.’ He had barely any experience, but he could. ‘Ice is a material, it’s like carving stone, marble or wood,’ Percy says. Except for the fact that it is much colder and if you aren’t keeping an eye on it, it may disintegrate into a sad puddle on the floor.

Percy runs PSD Ice Art with his wife and two sons and has worked on commissions for Lamborghini, Google and HSBC. For Volkswagen he carved a lifesized car that they parked in the street to market the launch of a new range of air-conditioned vehicles (‘It took me about 13 days to do that car — and they only used it for a couple of hours'). His company has made ice sculptures for the Royal Family, Claridge’s, The Berkeley and, for two years in succession, the Ice Bar in London, which consisted of 40-tonnes worth of sculptures that lasted for a year. His greatest hits include a re-creation of the Berlin Wall, the London skyline, and a sit-in igloo at the top of the Shard. It was for a dating event based around ‘breaking the ice’. Sculptures can range from £500-£60,000, depending on the size; their most expensive project came in at six figures.

Rohan Salazar started following in his father’s footsteps at the age of 13. Percy’s eldest son, Andrew, also works for the business and the pair are set to take it over in due course. The company, which is based in a distinctly unglamorous industrial estate in Lingfield, Surrey, handles everything from designing bespoke pieces for clients, to sculpting and even personally delivering their creations in refrigerated vans. ‘A sculptor needs to set up the sculpture, because you never know what could happen,’ says Rohan. The sculptures are made of different blocks, which travel in parts and are assembled at the venue. This makes them lighter and more travel-proof than a fully assembled piece.

The question Rohan is most asked by clients is: How long will it last? ‘Ice doesn't melt that quickly — our ice, because it's filtered and everything, melts about two inches every eight hours. So it doesn't melt much at all. That would last a whole party. We guarantee eight hours and deliver,’ he says. The most challenging request they’ve ever had was from a YouTuber group who wanted their faces carved into an imitation of Mount Rushmore — fortunately it didn’t go ahead in the end due to time constraints. ‘Faces are probably one of the hardest things to carve,’ Rohan says. The turnaround for projects is quick, with a minimum notice of seven days for each new project. ‘We have a good workforce,’ he says, of their nine-strong all-male team. ‘There’s one female sculptor I know of in the London area, but I’m not sure if there are any others in England.’

Members of the team can work 12-hour days in busy periods to satisfy demand. ‘Christmas is our busiest time by far. I'd say we run the warehouse almost 24 hours,’ Rohan says. It is a varied and intense period for the team. ‘One inquiry I did have recently — it was a shame that it didn't go ahead — was someone who wanted a two-by-two metre block on the back of a lorry riding around London with Michael Bublé inside — a cardboard cutout of him.’ The mind boggles.

Traditional ice sculptures have been falling out of favour, Rohan says, replaced by objects frozen in blocks of ice. ‘It's becoming more: “what looks best on social media or what looks cool”. It used to be a lot more elaborate sculptures, but now we do a lot of custom ice cubes, with company logos in them, and stuff like that.’

Giovanni Checherita, PSD Ice Art’s head designer, is old school. He prefers the traditional hand carving of intricate pieces, though understands the need to embrace technology. ‘We live in a world where production is important for a business. I understand. We can’t just do what I want all the time. You have to make money and if you don't use it someone else will, and then you will get left behind.’

Giovanni also began his career as a chef, but switched from carving fruit and vegetables in Michelin-starred restaurants to blocks of ice in 2012. When I meet him he is wearing heavy salopettes, large boots, gloves, a woolly hat and a neck gaiter. He has agreed to show me the carving process for a festive commission the business has going out that week — a three-quarter scale Christmas tree for a party at a Royal Navy base.

The working freezer, where Giovanni will be carving the piece, is -7º (the storage freezer for finished pieces is much colder, at around -14º). ‘This is where I spend my life,’ he says, sliding open the heavy door. As I step inside with a man I haven’t met before and spot a chainsaw and a selection of sharp implements, I can’t help but hear the ominous click of the freezer door closing. ‘This is where I bring all my girlfriends,’ Giovanni jokes, trying to make light of the serial killer vibe. ‘They’re never seen again.’

I was not murdered in the slightest while in the freezer, because Giovanni is a delight, and was eager to tell me all I wanted to know about sculpting ice. ‘I would say it is fairly difficult to learn,’ Giovanni says, as he begins to chip away at a vaguely tree-shaped block that was pre-prepared by a machine. ‘I think it's really hard to actually teach because it's just a lot of practice and it's connecting what you have in your mind, to your hands,’ he elaborates. Giovanni lets me try. It is very difficult and the smooth sweep of the chisel I have in my mind does not translate at all to the ice in my hand. ‘You need a bit of force,’ I remark, weakly, handing him the chisel back. ‘The requirement for the job is force,’ Giovanni agrees. The most difficult thing he’s worked on was the ice bar in London, which took five months of really intense work. He loves the variety of his job. ‘I'd say 70% of our work is someone coming up with an idea and then us seeing if we can make it reality. It makes it quite interesting.’

The work is physical, which Giovanni says keeps the cold at bay and helps the time to pass quickly. He is hypnotic as he flits around his sculpture, pink nosed, switching between tools with eyes squinted in concentration, transforming a lump of frozen water into art. He goes from chainsaw to electric drill to chisel, carving out the individual branches. Finally he uses water to attach some ‘baubles’ and a leaf blower to clear away the snowy debris. After two hours (excluding a coffee break to help me defrost a little) the tree has taken shape and my feet are numb. I do a little jig to keep warm and wonder if Giovanni gets cold at all. He shrugs. ‘I’m from Romania, we used to get crazy snow,’ he says, adding the finishing touches to his sculpture and stepping back to let me admire it. ‘It’s like in Frozen,’ he adds, going on to allude to the 2013 musical ear-worm that plagues parents everywhere. ‘The cold never bothered me’.

For more information on PSD Ice Art see their website.