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This article originally appeared in Green Roofs: Ecological Design and Construction by EarthPledge (Schiffer Publishing, 2004).
I am strolling in a field listening to crickets and watching
birds pluck insects from the dirt. Wildflowers bend in the
wind. Warblers and thrushes flit about in tall native grasses
and soar over the rolling terrain. The scene is rich, beautiful,
lively, delightful-some might say wild. But this landscape
is also a cultural space: I am standing on top of a building.
The building, the centerpiece of Gap Inc.'s corporate campus in San Bruno, California, is a pioneering office building with a green roof-and the rooftop is more than just a pretty patch of sod. Blanketed in soil, flowers and grasses, the roof's undulating terrain echoes the ancient local landscape, reestablishing several acres of the surrounding coastal savannah ecosystem. The native plants and soil also absorb storm water, filter the air, and provide thermal and acoustic insulation. And from inside the building, one can look out the window at the rooftop grasses being tossed by the wind or enjoy a breeze scented with the living perfume of healthy plants and soil. In these and many other ways the roof makes the landscape an integral part of the building's design.
This is rich, new territory and it has brought to the fore
a whole realm of design questions not often considered by
architects, planners and their clients. In addition to the
obvious practical questions of good business, such as those
relating to cost and scheduling, we began the Gap project
also asking "What would native birds hope to see as
they fly over the site?" and "Wouldn't it be marvelous
if the birds could see the habitat with which they evolved?"
Questions such as these, in a quite literal way, change
the nature of the design process, expanding its concerns
into multidisciplinary terrain that includes ecology, botany,
conservation biology, and environmental history. These disciplines
offer a lens through which one can see the natural systems
at work in a place-the landforms, hydrology, vegetation
and climate of each particular locale-and, thoughtfully
applied, they empower architects and planners to develop
designs that "fit," designs that encourage healthy
and creatively interactive relationships between a building
and its environs. In other words, the human impact on the
environment can be positive, vital and good-even regenerative.
And as this idea takes root and is elevated in the world
of architecture and planning, it offers hope for a flowering
of mutually enriching relationship between nature and human
culture, as well as a fresh, inspiring direction for urban
design.
Technology and performance also have critical roles in
the pursuit of ecological intelligence. Indeed, the design
and construction of green roofs and buildings demands an
extraordinary range of technical expertise, from understanding
storm water hydrology or the flux of ultraviolet radiation
to constructing an effective waterproofing system that allows
rain to be retained in rooftop soils. What's crucial is
a design approach attentive to a wide spectrum of concerns,
including a diverse range of economic, environmental and
cultural criteria. When such an approach is supported by
technological know-how, a truly delightful, high-performance
building can result.
Consider again, the Gap building. The green roof is one
of several integrated building systems designed to create
a productive, comfortable, culturally rich workplace. While
the rooftop soils and grasses insulate the building from
the midday sun and the sound of jets flying overhead, a
raised-floor cooling system allows evening breezes to flush
the building at night. The concrete slabs beneath the floor
store the cool air and release it during the day. The windows
can be opened, the delivery of fresh air is under individual
control, and daylight provides natural illumination. There
are public gathering areas indoors and out, which are enlivened
by fine art sculpture and paintings, thriving plants, and
a splendid cafe. In short, it's a delightful place to go
to work. And when the birds fly by they don't see a flat,
ugly tarmac broiling in the sun, they see a rolling, flowering
grassland that looks like home.
All that, and the Gap building is also one of the most
energy-efficient buildings in California. By setting out
to create a positive, regenerative human footprint, by tapping
local energy flows and integrating building and landscape,
the design outperforms buildings that set energy efficiency
as their highest goal. It also enables the building and
its inhabitants to participate in natural processes in ways
that allow an ongoing celebration of the rich relationship
between human creativity and the abundance of the nature.
Imagine that sensibility alive in our cities. Imagine New
York City and Atlanta, Detroit and Los Angeles tuning in
to the natural processes at work in the urban world. That
would be something marvelous and new. For most of the last
150 years urban nature has been synonymous with urban parks,
not the city itself. Even as Frederick Law Olmsted's landscape
designs continue to naturally ease urban flooding and improve
air and water quality on our cities, just as he imagined
they would, few urban dwellers see his works as anything
more than ornamental wonders and respite from the harder
urban world. They are loved, but separate.
There is another view. In the words of landscape architect
Anne Spirn, "The city is a granite garden, composed
of many smaller gardens, set in a garden world
.The
city is part of nature."
It is the air we breathe, the earth we stand on, the water
we drink and excrete, and the organisms with which we share
our habitat. Nature in the city is a powerful force that
can shake the earth and cause it to slide, heave, or crumple.
It is a broad flash of exposed rock strata on a hillside,
the overgrown outcrops in an abandoned quarry, the millions
of organisms cemented in the fossiliferous limestone of
a downtown building. It is rain and the rushing sound of
underground rivers buried in storm sewers. It is the water
from the faucet, delivered by pipes from some outlying river
or reservoir, then used and washed away into the sewer,
returned to the waters of the river or the sea. Nature in
the city is an evening breeze, a corkscrew eddy swirling
down the face of a building, the sun and the sky
It
is the natural processes that govern the transfer of energy,
the movement of air, the erosion of the earth, and the hydrologic
cycle. The city is part of nature.
With this sense of the city in mind, architects and planners
can begin to integrate natural processes into urban life.
And they are. Already we can see urban building and street
designs that use natural air flows to cool the city. We
see urban rivers unearthed, riparian corridors reforested,
and wetlands reclaimed and reconstructed within the city
to purify the urban water supply. We see solar collection
on skyscrapers and geothermal heating and cooling rising
into buildings from underground. We see a profusion of community
gardens where urban residents have daily interactions with
soil, water and living things. We see living roofs filtering
storm water, easing the heat-island effect and providing
urban habitat for native species of plants, birds and insects.
We see an emerging marriage between nature and the city
that has the potential to create a life affirming urban
realm.
Green roofs are a key element of this transformation, both
as regenerative living systems and as symbolic urban forms.
Imagine, for example, the effect of community kitchen gardens
on the rooftops of New York City. All sorts of neighborhoods
might become urban agricultural districts, the growing of
food providing sustenance, conviviality, a relationship
with nature and an opportunity to enjoy the fruits of ones
labor. The gardens could also make visible the vital connection
between water, soil, food and human culture. At the same
time, they would create a network of living landscapes stretching
across the ancient archipelago that is New York City. Add
to that the energy savings a sea of green roofs might provide
as they cool buildings in summer and insulate them in winter-according
to The New York Times, those savings could amount to as
much as $16 million a year.
And how better to signal a sea change in the priorities of local government than a green roof on city hall? That is exactly what happened in Chicago. There, Mayor Richard Daley has proclaimed that Chicago will become "the greenest city in America." As his administration plants hundreds of thousands of trees, restores the Lake Michigan shoreline and invests in renewable energy, the green roof on Chicago's City Hall, which covers half a block, has become a symbol of the City's commitment to change.
It is a change worth watching. Mayor Daley not only says
he wants the city to be the greenest in America, he is making
environmental initiatives an integral part of a long-term
strategy for growing economic and social health. To that
end, says Department of the Environment First Deputy Commissioner
David Reynolds, the City is working "to bring industry
back to Chicago while also revitalizing local ecology."
The mayor is committed, he says, to "making the city
a national model of how industry and ecology can exist side-by-side."
The work is already underway. Along with a host of traditional
beautification efforts, the city has undertaken the largest
brownfield redevelopment effort in the United States. It
has committed to buying 20 percent of its electricity-for
schools, libraries, subways and streetlights-from renewable
sources by 2006. Meanwhile, renewable energy companies,
such as the solar panel manufacturer Spire, have moved their
headquarters to the Chicago Center for Green Technology,
a new ecologically intelligent facility built on a restored
industrial site. Spire is already supplying Chicago with
locally manufactured solar panels, which the City has installed
on the roofs of the Field Museum, the Mexican Fine Arts
Museum and the Art Institute of Chicago. Seems the rooftop
is where it's at.
Unfortunately, positive changes such as these in our cities
could end up being a flash in the pan unless they are seen
in the context of a sustaining, long-term vision. A green
roof is a wonderful addition to a city neighborhood, but
its impact grows when it is conceived as a humble first
step toward a deep revitalization of urban life. In other
words, urban design can be strategic rather than piecemeal,
with each initiative supporting the goals of a holistic,
integrated plan. This is not news in Chicago. There, the
city government is developing a set of urban planning principles
to guide decision-making over the long haul, not just during
the Daley Administration, but well into the future.
David Reynolds put it this way:
We have been saying that we are going to be the greenest
city in America. But to truly become a thriving green city
we need to carefully define what that means and what we
should be striving for, day-by-day and year-by-year. No
city in the United States has really gotten this right yet,
and we believe that part of the problem has been that no
American city has developed a set of guiding green principles-akin
to the timeless principles of the Constitution-that describes
its ideals, sets its course and defines its means. That's
what we are trying to do in Chicago. And we hope the principles
we develop become so well known and so well understood that
they define how we operate as a city government for the
next one hundred years.
The fruits of this labor, The Chicago Principles, will
serve as a reference point for the City as it pursues Mayor
Daley's dream. Developed with William McDonough + Partners,
the Principles, it is hoped, will provide a coherent, ecologically
intelligent foundation for urban design. They support strategic
decision-making and encourage planning choices that enhance
not just environmental health, but economic productivity
and social welfare as well. Based on the timeless laws of
nature, they hold out the promise of an urban world that
is restorative and regenerative by design.
Soon to be published, the Chicago Principles share the
spirit and aim of the nine declarations of The Hannover
Principles, which my colleague Michael Braungart and I crafted
for the city of Hannover, Germany, in 1992. The Hannover
Principles, among other things, insist on the right of humanity
and nature to co-exist in a healthy, supportive, diverse,
and sustainable condition; recognize the interdependence
between elements of human design and the natural world;
are committed to the elimination of the concept of waste;
and embrace a reliance on natural energy flows.
In our work over the past decade, my colleagues and I have found that striving to recognize interdependence or rely on natural energy flows in everything we do-from designing buildings and community plans to products and factories-yields a positive, inspiring perspective on urban design, as well as extraordinarily satisfying results. The green-roofed Gap building is one example of our approach. Another is the revitalization of Ford Motor Company's historic Rouge River manufacturing complex in Dearborn, Michigan, where we designed a 600,000 square foot factory with the largest green roof in the world.
The Rouge River restoration illustrates the fruits of considering
a diverse range of economic, social and ecological concerns
in urban design. As we approached the design process with
Ford, which had decided to invest $2 billion over 20 years
to transform the Rouge into an icon of 21st century industry,
many wondered if a blue chip company with a sharp focus
on the bottom line could take a step toward something truly
new and inspiring. Could environmental restoration and profits
co-exist?
Well, yes. In fact, for this agenda to become widespread,
they must. Using the Hannover Principles as a guide, we
explored with Ford's executives, engineers, and designers
a variety of innovative ways of creating value. Rather than
simply using conventional economic metrics to try to reconcile
apparent conflicts between environmental concerns and the
bottom line, Ford's leaders began to examine how smart design
decisions could grow not just profits but social and ecological
value as well.
The results were inspiring. Instead of trying to meet its
environmental responsibilities as efficiently as possible,
Ford opted for a manufacturing facility that would create
habitat, make oxygen, connect employees to their surroundings
and invite the return of native species. The new plant features
skylights for daylighting the factory floor and a 10-acre
roof covered with healthy soil and growing plants. The living
roof provides habitat for birds, insects and microorganisms
and, in concert with porous paving and a series of constructed
wetlands and swales, will absorb and filter storm water
run-off for $10 million less than conventional water treatment
systems. In addition, native grasses and other plants are
ridding the soil of contaminants and a variety of trees
are being planted to aid in the bio-remediation. This is
a landscape of renewal.
The Rouge restoration has important meanings for cities
and urban designers. It shows not only that green roofs
and other biological technologies can be effectively and
profitably deployed in large-scale urban projects, but also
that industry and ecology, nature and the city can indeed
flourish side-by-side. With this in mind, we can begin to
imagine cities participating ever more creatively with nature.
Cities where skyscrapers harvest the energy of the sun and
rooftop gardens become part of the watershed. Cities where
industry becomes a regenerative thread in the urban fabric.
This is possible when we design each thing we make as a
nutrient that can circulate in safe, regenerative closed-loop
cycles-a technical cycle in which high-tech, synthetic materials
are perpetually produced, used, recovered and remanufactured;
and a biological cycle in which organic materials are returned
to the soil. An upholstery fabric I designed with my colleague
Michael Braungart, for example, can be tossed on the ground
to nourish the soil when it wears out; in the city it could
become food for rooftop gardens. Just so, high-tech products,
such as perpetually recyclable fibers or windmill blades,
can be "food" for technical systems, providing
safe materials for generation after generation of useful
goods. These cradle-to-cradle material flows (as opposed
to the typical cradle-to-grave flow of materials from producer
to consumer to landfill) are crucial to urban design. Not
only do they ensure that the materials with which we build
our cities will be healthful and beneficial, they eliminate
the very concept of waste and provide a clean, productive
economic base for healthy urban growth.
And so we can begin to see the city not only fitting elegantly
into its place but becoming a revitalizing force in its
region. In this new, regional metropolis, biological and
technical nutrition flow back and forth between city and
countryside, enriching both. The city receives food, water
and energy from a very broad nexus of solar-powered, biologically-based,
photosynthetic systems. The energy of the sun is harvested
on rooftops; rural windmills power city buildings; water
falls on a network of green roofs and rooftop gardens, flowing
safely into the soil, into the watershed, into the air.
In the countryside, farmers grow good food using implements
manufactured in the city-technical nutrients-and the city
receives this nourishment, digests it and then excretes
it back to its source, returning biological nutrients to
the rural soil. The windmills on the farm, source of a new
cash crop, are forged in the city, produce power for the
region in the countryside, and then are returned to the
city every 20 years to be refurbished and returned to the
farm. Everything moves in regenerative cycles, from city
to country, country to city, all the polymers, metals, and
synthetic fibers flowing safely in the technical metabolism,
all the photosynthetic nutrients-food, wood, natural fibers-flowing
in the biological metabolism. These flows of nutrients are
the twin metabolisms of the living city that allow human
settlements and the natural world to thrive together. If
we are to make our cities truly sustaining, we need to take
this as a literal, strategic truth that informs all of our
designs.
Our vision, simply put, is this: A world of interdependent
natural and human systems, powered by renewable energy,
in which everything we make flows in safe, healthful biological
and technical cycles, elegantly and equitably deployed for
the benefit of all.
The view from the rooftop suggests that this dream is within
our grasp and, indeed, that it has already taken root in
the granite gardens of our garden world.
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