You have to read this article by Robert Campbell of Boston Globe fame.
I bolded my favorite parts. I even included the writer’s email address.
WASHINGTON - In a small space, with a modest budget, a new kind of green roof here is so inventive it changes the way you think about what a roof can be.
Green roofs are a hot item in architecture. Mayor Menino, for one, advocates them for all new buildings in Boston. But they’re often uninteresting as architecture. The usual version is a flat surface planted with sedum, looking like a big rug or maybe a stretch of semi-desert landscape.
This one is different because it’s three-dimensional. As you emerge from a stairway onto the roof, you find yourself flanked by two green mounds, each about 8 feet high. You don’t feel exposed or threatened. The mounds embrace and protect you, and they shape a small social space. Someone, you realize, has created a landscaped enclosure up here, an outdoor room. It’s a place you can inhabit, not merely stand on top of.
Looking down at your feet, you realize you’re walking on a light aluminum grating, three inches above a field of, yup, sedum. That often boring plant feels, as you walk above it, like a magic carpet.
And the planting isn’t all sedum, of course. The two mounds receive sun and wind differently in different places. One sloped area is called “meadow and upland,” another is drier and hotter. The owner and the designer are continually measuring and experimenting to see which plants work best under what conditions.
The designer is Michael Van Valkenburgh, a nationally known landscape architect with offices in Cambridge and New York. He’s perhaps best known locally for planting, believe it or not, 250 new trees in Harvard Yard. The client - the owner of the roof - is the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), led by its CEO, Nancy Somerville. The building is the ASLA headquarters, at 636 Eye St. NW, not far from the Capitol.
Americans are laggards in green roofs. The leading country is probably Germany, where there are 50 square miles of green roof. That’s bigger than the entire city of Boston. And that figure is probably already out of date. Every year, the Germans add rooftop gardens totaling four times the area of New York’s Central Park.
The ASLA roof is intended to change that. It is, above all, an educational project. It’s tiny, only 82 by 35 feet, but that’s enough to transmit the lesson. Groups of schoolchildren come to see it. So do professional landscape architects. So do government officials.
In a quiet way, it’s quite beautiful. Among the plants doing well (I love plant names) are flame sumac, trumpet vine, pasture rose, purple lovegrass, nodding onion, and thread-leaved tickseed. The mounds change color with the seasons. Where the building’s structure can bear the most weight, which is atop an elevator shaft, the soil is 21 inches thick and planted with sumac that will eventually grow as tall as 30 feet.
More important than its looks, though, are the tasks the roof silently accomplishes. Cooling, for example. “There’s an identical building next door, built at the same time 15 years ago, which has a flat black roof,” says Van Valkenburgh. “It’s a definite kind of hell.” In the hottest weather, tests reveal, the ASLA roof is 32 degrees cooler than its neighbor.
Some other advantages:
The green roof retains 75 percent of all rainfall, thus keeping 27,512 gallons a year from flowing into the city sewer system. Since much of Washington still uses old-fashioned combination storm and sanitary sewers, the roof is helping to keep overflow waste out of lakes and streams.
It cuts the building’s winter energy cost by 10 percent.
It should last at least twice as long as a conventional roof, because the planting forms a protective blanket over the waterproof membrane.
It helps insulate the interior from sound.
It cleans the air as the plants absorb carbon dioxide and give off oxygen.
It helps reduce the “urban heat island” effect, the tendency of built-up cities to be warmer than rural areas.
It’s an aesthetic amenity, not only for the users but their neighbors.
The mounds help conceal the ugly rooftop utility boxes.
The plantings may provide biological habitat for some species.
The ASLA doesn’t, however, wish to offer habitat to rats. There are a lot of restaurants nearby, and the ASLA is afraid that nocturnal rats may scale the building and feast on leftovers. Nancy Somerville has banned snacking, except for organized events. In architecture, there’s always an unanticipated problem.
Van Valkenburgh compares his roof to the work of the great modernist architect Le Corbusier, who furnished his with daycare playgrounds, small parks, and other social spaces, thus creating a vital architectural skyline as well as a useful roofscape.
There’s one more advantage to green roofs. They allow us to build more densely, without losing recreational open space. And as every study shows, the more densely we build the more energy we save, because people walk, bike, and take public transit rather than drive.
Boston, too, may soon be sprouting some interesting greenery. The Boston Architectural College, which owns a big flat roof on Newbury Street, has decided to green it. Ted Landsmark, the college’s president, says that unlike the ASLA’s, this roof will be accessible by elevator. And a German leader in green architecture is now the architect of a big Harvard science complex, soon to begin construction in Allston. He is Stefan Behnisch, the designer of the fine Genzyme Building in East Cambridge. At Harvard, Behnisch plans both planted roofs and solar panels. He’s working with the Harvard Green Campus Initiative, which is an independent action group within the university that hopes to make Harvard “a global model of sustainability.” This month is National Landscape Architecture Month, and Saturday will be the 186th anniversary of the birth of Frederick Law Olmsted, the father of the profession. Tuesday is Earth Day. Green is in the air.
A superb book about the ASLA roof “Green Roof: A Case Study” has been published by the Princeton Architectural Press.
Robert Campbell, the Globe’s architecture critic, can be reached at camglobe@aol.com.
Bill Dunster wrote the article “Which side are you on? Today’s buildings have all the hallmarks of being designed by a profession happier to serve its paymasters than the environment or the public” for the Riba Journal.
It is now possible to plot the increased numbers of deaths and people made homeless by extreme weather events attributable to climate change each year (excluding tsunamis). These can be set against the rising levels of atmospheric CO2 attributable to the human economy, making profligate energy use an ethical as well as an economic concern. The public of 2050 will inherit a legacy of ‘killer buildings’ whose construction and operation over a 40-year period will have caused the loss of thousands of lives in the contributions they have made to climate change.
He goes on to identify how we as architects…as well as other guilty parties…contribute to the problem.
I know this is probably common sense to you, but Bill Dunster gives us some advice:
How refreshing it would be to see urban typologies designed to incorporate many functions, placing offices in shade, and siting housing to optimise both passive solar gain and summer passive cooling. Massing could be shaped by aerodynamic analysis to maximise roof-mounted wind-driven ventilation and summer cross-ventilation – alleviating the urban heat island.
I just came across this post on The Carnivore Chronicle.
It reminded me of my Peace Corps days in Burkina Faso, and the mud huts of my village, Pama, not for from the border of Benin.
Bomas are traditional low huts constructed by the Maasai tribe as living quarters. They are constructed from sticks topped with layers of branches and then plastered with a mix of mud and manure. Women traditionally construct the boma themselves, using what is available to them, in accordance with tradition. They have a low flat roof of the same materials and often lack windows, with smoke, light and air sneaking in and out from the spiral entry. The wife sleeps in here with the kids and the smaller animals and cooks with charcoal as well. I had the opportunity to enter one, and it was not an experience that I am eager to repeat. But Laly and Buddy have taken this local building concept and modified it to fit their needs. Their boma has a high ceiling with a layer of tin for rainwater collection under the insulating layers of thatch, which also prevents the shining tin from being visible from the hills across the way. It also has glass windows for light and ventilation and linear sides, creating a more functional space. Their boma is constructed with stones extracted from the surrounding hills that are laid by a local mason using a mortar composed largely of the earth from abandoned termite mounds, which have a distinct adhesive quality from the saliva of termites. Some other bomas, which will be used as staff and visiting student housing, are actually built by the Maasai women of the village, but with the same modifications of waterproofing, windows, a door, and higher ceilings under thatch roofing.
Why do I love indigenous architecture? Let me count the ways.
1. There is something infinitely more pleasing in forming a dwelling with one’s own hands…instead of a computer.
2. It is completely local – from the people who think it up, to the builders, to the construction materials.
3. Building it is often a community endeavor, bonding the community together.
4. It does not require extensive communiques with the Planning and Zoning Board.
5. The inhabitants won’t spend 30 years paying it off.
Chicago
Thursday, May 1: Barbara Geiger, design consultant for heritage landscapes, traces the history of the sustainable design movement in Chicago using landscape architects Frederick Law Olmsted, O.C. Simonds, and Jens Jensen’s work to illustrate. 6 p.m.; Millennium Park, 201 E Randolph St.
Los Angeles
Tuesday, May 6: The Hammer Museum hosts this forum on energy independence with David Freeman, considered the country’s premiere authority on energy use, and Robert Bryce, managing editor of Houston-based newsletter Energy Tribune. 7 p.m.; Hammer Museum, 10899 Wilshire Blvd.; (310) 443-7000.
Miami
Friday, May 2: Mikhail Baryshnikov, Johnny Depp and Isabella Rossellini are among the 25 video portraits by avant-garde artist Robert Wilson, now on display at The Bass Museum. For a more traditional take, the museum also dusts off its extensive collection of Flemish, Italian, and Dutch portraiture from the 16th to early 19th centuries. The Bass Museum, 2121 Park Ave.; (305) 673-7530.
New York
Tuesday, May 6: For Masterpieces of Modern Design, the Met shows selections from its extensive 20th century collection, including works by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Marcel Breuer, Eliel Saarinen, Charles and Ray Eames, Isamu Noguchi, Verner Panton, Michael Graves, and others. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1000 Fifth Ave. at 82nd St.; (212) 535-7710.
San Francisco
Friday, May 2: Before the Industrial Revolution turned us onto synthetic blue pigments, artists and alchemists concocted the color using the woad plant. In this new exhibition at The Hive Gallery, four artists—-Ellen Fader, Judi Pettite, Miriam Fagan, and Jessica Serran—return to the source, exploring natural blue hues in their multi-media work with woad. The Hive Gallery, 301 Jefferson St., Oakland.
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I am starting a new kind of architecture school. Unlike most architecture schools, you wouldn't have to submit GRE scores or good grades or letters of recommendation. You wouldn't have to put the rest of your life on hold for 3 to 5 years. You wouldn't have to accrue tens of thousands of dollars in debt. At my architecture school, anyone could come for a few weeks and learn how to build a house with their own two hands. My teachers would take skills and concepts from some of these other workshops I've listed above... except classes would be held year-round to make it easy to fit into your schedule. I would have a number of different campuses around the country that would teach building designs appropriate to the local climate. And I need your help. Can you donate land for a campus? Can you dotate books for a library? Can you teach a workshop? Can you provide start-up capital? Let me know.
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