How an igloo stays warm at minus 40
Why a house made of snow can be cosy, and the clever engineering hidden in every block.
From Inuit snow houses to Japanese kamakura and ice hotels with chandeliers, people have been building with snow for centuries. Here is how they do it, and why it works.
In Inuktitut, iglu simply means house, and can describe a home made of anything. The snow house itself is more specifically an igluvijaq. Domed snow houses were built across the Canadian Arctic, roughly from the Mackenzie River delta to Labrador, as winter homes and as shelters while hunting out on the sea ice. An experienced builder could raise one in an hour or two.
The builder looks for snow that the wind has packed firm, then cuts blocks with a long snow knife. Rather than stacking separate rings, the blocks are laid in a single rising spiral, each one leaning inward and resting on the one before. That spiral is the clever part: the dome supports itself while it is being built, with no scaffolding at all. A final key block closes the top, and gaps are packed with loose snow.
Igloos were sometimes built in clusters, with several living chambers sharing one entrance tunnel, or joined to a larger room for feasts and dances. A slab of clear freshwater ice could be set into the wall as a window to let in light.
Further south, where snow is softer and harder to cut, people build a quinzhee, a name that comes from the Dene languages of northern Canada. Snow is heaped into a big mound and left for at least an hour, ideally longer, to settle and harden, then hollowed out from the inside. Sticks pushed into the mound beforehand act as depth gauges, so the digger knows when the walls are thick enough.
In the snowy north of Japan, people build kamakura, dome-shaped snow huts with an altar to the water god inside. The festival in Yokote, Akita, is said to date back around 400 to 450 years, and began as a way to give thanks for water. Every year on 15 and 16 February the town fills with kamakura, and children inside invite passers-by in for grilled rice cakes and warm amazake.
The ICEHOTEL in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden, began in 1989 as an art exhibition held in an igloo on the frozen Torne River. In 1990 a group of visitors who could not find a room in the village were offered a night inside it, and the idea of an ice hotel was born. It is now rebuilt every winter from Torne River ice and “snice”, a mix of snow and ice, with artists from around the world designing new suites each year. In spring the whole building melts back into the river.
Since late 2016 a permanent sister building, ICEHOTEL 365, has kept its ice suites frozen all year, cooled by a solar-powered refrigeration plant. In Canada, the Hôtel de Glace near Quebec City first opened in 2001 and is also rebuilt every winter.
The Sapporo Snow Festival started in 1950, when local high school students built six snow statues in Odori Park. Today it draws around two million visitors a year to see huge snow sculptures, some of them replicas of real landmarks. In China, the Harbin Ice and Snow Festival, held every year since 1985, fills whole streets with ice palaces built from blocks cut from the frozen Songhua River.
Every one of these buildings uses what is to hand, wastes nothing, and is shaped by the conditions it has to survive. Get the structure right and the rest follows. Those are good rules for building anything, websites included.