Hello Again My Friend, Snowmen and Women
If you’re a snow lover, you probably get excited when you hear a big storm is in the forecast. Whether you appreciate the quiet that snowfall brings, enjoy winter sports, or simply love to play in it, we can all agree that there’s something special about piles of the white fluffy stuff. Especially exciting is building a snowman — an inexpensive and fun activity for the whole family. But did you ever stop and wonder, who built the first snowman? How and where did they originate?
When did people start making snowmen? Man always loved stacking things; cave drawings make this clear. Knowing this, it’s likely that Neanderthals were constructing crude snowmen. The earliest documented snowman was in an illuminated manuscript dating back to 1380. It’s impossible to decisively identify the very first snowman, but some archaeologists believe it’s plausible that prehistoric peoples also used snow to depict themselves. Cavemen made art with all materials available, whether it was mud, wood, sticks, or we can only speculate that a piece of coal may have at one time been the eye of a prehistoric snowman.
The snowman is like a frozen Forrest Gump—look to many of history’s cultural benchmarks, and there you’ll find a forebear of Frosty. It was a snowman who appeared on some of the first postcards, starred in some of the initial silent movies, and was the subject of a couple of the earliest photos, dating all the way back to the 1800s. I discovered even more about one of humanity’s earliest forms of folk art during several years of research around the world.
Snowman-making is one of man’s oldest forms of folk art. The first postcards, the first magazines, the first silent movies—it’s the snowman you find appearing during key historical moments, we hold very few of our daily activities in common with our ancestors, but making snowmen is one of the last remaining. It’s worth noting that for most children, making a snowman is the first and probably the last time they will create a life-size human figure.
For example, snowmen were a phenomenon in the Middle Ages, built with great skill and thought. At a time of limited means of expression, snow was like free art supplies dropped from the sky. It was a popular activity for couples to stroll through town to view the temporary works of chilly art. Some were created by famous artists, including a 19-year-old Michelangelo, who in 1494 was commissioned by the ruler of Florence, Italy, to sculpt a snowman in his mansion’s courtyard. Follow these tips to build the perfect snowman.
The Miracle of 1511 took place during six weeks of subzero temperatures called the Winter of Death. The city of Brussels was covered in snowmen—a spectacular tableaux that told stories on every street corner. Some were political in nature, angry swipes at the church and government. Some were downright pornographic. For the people of Brussels, this was their Woodstock, a defining moment of artistic freedom. At least until spring arrived, by which time the Belgians were dealing with damaging floods.
Snowmen also played a part in one of the bloodiest events in early American history, the Schenectady Massacre of 1690. At the time, Fort Schenectady, in what is now upstate New York, was a remote Dutch settlement under constant threat of attack. But the soldiers guarding the gates, which were frozen open, left a pair of snowmen at their post to protect the town when they left to get out of a blizzard. Unknown to them, a contingent of 210 French Canadian soldiers and Native Americans were approaching. Having traveled over three weeks in knee-deep, slushy snow, they were unfazed by the snowmen and invaded the fort, killing 60 villagers. This snowy situation could have been a disaster.
If you fear the heyday of the snowman has passed, don’t worry: I’ve learned that some explosive snowman history is still being made today. Every year since 1818, the people of Zurich, Switzerland, celebrate the beginning of spring by blowing up a snowman. On the third Monday of April, the holiday Sechseläuten is kicked off when a cotton snowman called the Böögg is stuffed with dynamite and paraded through town by bakers, blacksmiths, and other tradesmen who throw bread and sausages to the crowds. The parade ends with the Böögg being placed on a 40-foot pile of scrap wood. After the bells of the Church of St. Peter have chimed six times, representing the passing of winter, the pile is lit. When the snowman explodes, winter is considered officially over—the shorter the combustion, the longer summer is said to be.
Not all snow-creations come with corncob pipes. In Japan, snowmen are made with two balls, one big and one small atop it, and without arms. They are to resemble the daruma doll, which brings good luck. In China, going back to the 7th-century, Buddha statues are carved out of snow for families to worship in place of marble or wood.
Less holy, but way more fun, is the Zurich Switzerland festival of Sechseläuten, which features the Böögg, a snowman stuffed with straw, cotton, and dynamite. On the third Monday in April, after being paraded through town, the Böögg is set aflame. The faster its head explodes, the better the warm weather to come. It’s like Groundhog Die Hard Day.
In Japan, snowmen are good luck charms and are constructed with two balls and a lit candle placed in a cavity of its stomach.
It was a snowwoman that was a rallying cry for the French in the revolution of 1870; she was a beautiful sculpture created by some of France’s most accomplished artists who, at the time, happened to also be soldiers on the battlefield.
The Miracle of 1511 in Brussels represents one of the most important events in the snowman’s history. The “Woodstock” of the Middle Ages, it featured hundreds of racy and politically charged snow scenes throughout the city for all to see. At a time when most people had no voice and few even could read, this was a chance for society to express itself, thanks to free art supplies having been dropped from the sky in the form of snow.
I have very fond memoirs of making snowmen and women with my family. What hat to use, what to use for the eyes the nose and the mouth. What kind of arms to use, do you accessorize with a scarf or gloves? This is truly an all-day event. You come in wet and cold and have a cup of hot chocolate. Then when the snow melted you had to say good bye to a dear friend. Once again when the forecast called for snow, you wait with bated breath for the chance to recreate your dear friend. By the way one of the most important feathers was the name you gave your friend!
