Blog Archives
Packard Foundation Achieves Goal of Operating Its Headquarters at Net Zero Energy
Its official – The David and Lucile Packard Foundation Headquarters is the largest certified net zero energy building in the world. Once the clinking of the celebratory champagne glasses settles down, let’s consider what this accomplishment really means.
Let’s start with “net zero energy.”
EHDD’s goal was to design, build and operate a building that uses no more energy than could be produced on site over the course of a year. The metric by which we measured this target was “energy use intensity” (EUI) in kBTU/sf. Between July 2012 and July 2013 the building used 22 kBTU/sf – which is 58% less than a similarly situated, code-compliant building and 76% better than what a typical American office building uses per square foot. In that same time period, the roof-mounted PV system produced the equivalent of 26 kBTU/sf, so we actually came out net positive which allowed the Foundation to charge electric vehicles owned by their staff with carbon-neutral electricity.
The numbers alone are impressive, but perhaps most impressive is that we actually have the numbers at all. In 2013, it is still a small miracle when we retrieve trustworthy measured data on how our buildings are performing. The most powerful result of the quest to reach net zero may be how it shifts our focus towards real, measurable results and away from promises and abstractions.
What does it mean to be a “certified” net zero energy building?
The Packard Foundation earned its certification through the International Living Future Institute (ILFI) who is the sponsor of the Living Building Challenge program and the only certifying body for net zero energy buildings. Only a handful of buildings have been certified to-date, including EHDD’s IDEAS Z2 Design Facility. Their process required verification through review of metered data, as well as a host of supporting documentation demonstrating that the project is: a good neighbor (doesn’t block access to sun), location efficient (counteracts urban sprawl), inspiring and beautiful. Having a program that provides building owners with third-party verification of their accomplishment is an important milestone for net zero energy buildings. The ILFI is currently seeking out other building owners who may have certifiable projects to add to the list. In fact, the New Buildings Institute will release their 2013 survey of NZE buildings at the U.S. Green Building Council’s Annual Greenbuild International Conference and Expo in November in Philadelphia. I’ve seen a preview and it includes the Packard Foundation headquarters, but more importantly, they list more than 100 others that are “emerging” – meaning not yet operational or not yet verified including EHDD’s Exploratorium at Pier 15. These efforts illustrate the important and growing movement towards performance verification.
In this case, “largest” is not just a matter of bragging rights.
Zero energy buildings need to scale up – and fast – in order for us to achieve the economy-wide carbon reductions necessary over the next two decades and avoid the worst climate change scenarios. Both the State of California (through Assembly Bill 32 and the California Public Utilities Commission’s Energy Efficiency Strategic Plan) and the Federal government (through Energy Independence and Security Act of 2007) have heeded Edward Mazria’s 2030 Challenge and enacted legislation that requires all new commercial buildings to reach net zero energy by the year 2030. Therefore, the challenge before us is not just to design net zero buildings over the next two decades, but to figure out how to transform a building industry so that all buildings are built net zero by then.
For more information review the International Living Future Institute’s case study, the Packard-commissioned report “Sustainability in Practice: Building and Running 343 Second Street” or attend my presentation “Year One: The True Story of a Net Zero Energy Building” at Greenbuild 2013.
Brad Jacobson, AIA LEED® AP BD+C
Senior Associate
Flexible Architecture for a Cultural Landscape
The Presidio, a national park and a cultural landscape rich with natural, cultural and military history, demands a program for the public and a building that is suited to the park. In November, the Presidio Trust initiated a search for ideas for a new cultural institution on the former Commissary building site (currently occupied by Sports Basement) on Crissy Field.
EHDD teamed with the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy to submit a concept proposal along with 15 other teams. Our team was selected, along with two other finalists, to participate in a summer-long competition to design a building for our programming concept, the “Presidio Exchange” (PX), featuring a 15,000 sq. ft. flexible event space for not one, but many cultural institutions.
Evident in falling audience and visitor attendance, old institutional models such as traditional museums or theaters are becoming outdated. The James Irvine Foundation published a study on how cultural institutions need to adapt. The study suggests that audiences prefer cultural events and art exhibits that are engaging and immersive.
Responding to this imperative and establishing a new 21st century model for a cultural institution, the Presidio Exchange is a cultural center that is more flexible, experimental, and programmed by multiple outside institutions. Envisioned are a wide variety of community events, from a Latino/a Art and Dance festival, to a Hack-a-thon for innovative technology, to a National Geographic event for children to learn about nature.
We are looking at architectural precedents like the Craneway in Richmond, CA and the Park Avenue Armory in New York, and successful landscapes like the Highline in New York and Millennium Park in Chicago. As a flexible space for many public programs, the Presidio Exchange is well-suited to its park setting, yet from an architectural standpoint therein lies the challenge.
Historically, the discipline did not use the words “flexible” and “architecture” in the same sentence. A building’s structure is, by nature, fixed. Programmatically, flexible spaces are also relatively new to the history of our discipline, but in order to be sustainable we need our buildings to be adaptive and resilient, serving a constantly shifting program, one that draws all types of people and serves the city’s large and small institutions.
The architecture of the PX reflects contemporary culture and values, just as it respects and reflects the past. In hopes of cutting down on waste and cost, and to address the history of the site, we have chosen to reuse 26,000sf of the existing structure, which was originally designed as a commissary—basically a military grocery store.
We have chosen to reuse the part of the commissary’s “Dry Storage Area” primarily because of its taller, wider-spanning structure, better suited to large events. This has proved a challenge, as we are grappling with the constraints of the existing structure, its seismic quality, and its ability to host larger stage-focused events. After quite a bit of study it is apparent that with a bit of adaptation, the old structure has the potential to provide the flexible space needed—and function as a formally remarkable contrast to the new portion of the building.
Lower carbon footprints, net-zero energy goals, and bio filtration gardens are examples of common sustainable design goals in EHDD’s projects. While we will always push for these traditional sustainable design components, these only address environmental issues, a fraction of what is needed for a healthy urban eco-system.
In the case of the Presidio Exchange, the Parks Conservancy’s concept for programmatic flexibility and the objective to include a diversity of local and international institutions are the most progressive sustainable aspects of the project. As a result, its flexibility also addresses socio-economic issues, and most importantly creates an adaptable and resilient institution, which moves with the ebb and flow of cultural exchange and demographic change.
The Presidio is technically termed a “cultural landscape” due to its history and various manmade transformations over the years. The architecture-related disciplines of planning and landscape architecture have been designing flexible, constantly changing public space for more than 20 years in a theoretical framework termed “Landscape Urbanism.”
So as we complete the architectural proposal for the commissary site, we must make the building akin to a landscape— flexible, constantly changing, adaptable, and open. Situated in a cultural landscape that has dramatically changed over the last 200 years, the Presidio has the perfect architectural design project to attempt to embody such a dynamic.
Sign the petition to let the Presidio Trust Board of Directors know that you support the Presidio Exchange!
Visit the Presidio Trust’s Former Commissary Site at Crissy Field website for more competition information.
Alex Spautz
Designer


How to Succeed in Architecture
Considered a threshold into the realm of job opportunities, the internship plays a crucial role in the genesis and direction of one’s career. I began my first internship when I was a senior at the University of California, Berkeley at the architecture firm EHDD. Because I was simultaneously interning and in college, I approached this experience as an educational opportunity; an outlook needed to extract as much as possible from these situations. It was ultimately a success; I am currently a full-time employee at EHDD. By embarking with an intellectual curiosity and ambition to learn, you have an opportunity to create a leverageable impression on your co-workers and gain further skills and knowledge.
To achieve this growth, it is extremely important to consistently move outside of one’s comfort zone. It is easy to sink into the monotony and comfort of the familiar, and extremely hard to force oneself to step into the entirely unknown. The fear of failure or embarrassment often trumps our desire to succeed – and will return little to no significant growth. But this is an internship – your employer isn’t expecting you to be able to perform at the level of someone who has been working full-time for 10 years. Now is the time to push the boundaries of your comfort and take on challenges and struggle to meet them. If you fail, not only have you learned from your attempt, but will learn from the failure itself. If you succeed in any degree, you prove that you can handle uncertainty, and can learn and adapt quickly to challenging situations.
One of the first tasks I received as an EHDD intern was the design of a sun shade to minimize solar gains through southern exposure glazing. The design team I worked with was small, and the project design reviews were held with the team including one of the firm’s principals. Although I had little real experience designing shading structures, I knew this was an opportunity to showcase my skills. I stayed late that entire week, drawing shading masks and building a full-scale mock-up of what I designed. When the project review came around, I exceeded expectations. Not only did I have proof of the structures efficiency and performance, but also an enormous full-scale model illustrating its geometry rendered in ten feet of foam and cardboard reality. Through a presentation of my work, and the resulting dialogue, I was able to directly interact and learn from the principal and my co-workers. Despite my fear of failing with an embarrassingly large full scale model, I excelled with little direction. This certainly created a memorable impression on those around me and helped remove some of the distance between myself and my co-workers.
That model lived in the office for a couple of months – often becoming the impetus behind meeting more co-workers. This eagerness to learn and better oneself will be clearly perceived by your employer, and should serve to foster relationships. Many of your coworkers could be considered experts in their field – placing you in the midst of an extensive knowledge bank. Take any opportunity you can get to interact with them, ask them questions incessantly as this is the only way learn. For some, this constant inter-personal interaction will be hard, but again, step outside of what you consider comfortable and you will grow. Making relationships is an extremely valuable by-product of stepping into the unfamiliar and can be leveraged to transition into full-time employment. When it was time for my internship to end, I had a bevy of co-workers willing to help me find full time employment. Those I had demonstrated my ambition and aptness were happy to write recommendations, put me in contact with connections at other firms, and vouch for my transition to full-time within EHDD. Without these relationships I would not be working full-time at EHDD today. And without stretching myself past what I already knew, I would not have created the positive impressions that would ultimately get me hired.
If at the end of your internship you are not immediately offered a job, use the impressions you made and the relationships you formed to facilitate other job leads and personal recommendations. And with myself as an example, definitely do not give up on the company where you interned. If you made the right impressions and had the right attitude, it just may be a matter of timing.
Matt Bowles
Designer


Art, Architecture and Science
The Betty Irene Moore Natural Sciences (BIMNS) Building at Mills College has been highly praised. It exceeded expectations with its women in science installation, building resource monitoring display and rainwater collection system, for which it earned a LEED® Platinum certification. But the term “sustainable” hardly does the building justice, diluted as it has become from overuse as an industry buzzword. Let’s call BIMNS “suSTAYnable” instead, since it’s one of those special, inviting spaces that makes you want to, well, stay. In addition to the long list of innovative design strategies and building features, the project has accomplished something beyond what can be ticked off on a LEED scorecard. The environment nurtures a pleasing quiet; it is chic and elegant, yet strong—think Michelle Obama at an Inaugural Ball. This texture of sophistication and rigor is brought about only by the more mysterious feats of design.
The building owes part of its je ne sais quoi to the legacy of the campus on which it sits. The present day campus was founded in 1871 by Cyrus and Susan Mills. From the Second Empire style of Mills Hall (a California Historical Landmark), to Julia Morgan’s iconic El Campanil bell tower, to the Spanish Colonial Revival buildings designed by Walter H. Ratcliff, Jr., the Mills campus offers an archaeological insight into the history of California architecture. EHDD became privileged to work on the historic campus in the 1980s under the trusted guidance of founding principal, Peter Dodge. During a period when the college had no acting campus architect, Dodge led the charge on the completion of the Aron Arts Center, Olin Library and the restoration of Mills Hall and Olney Hall, among other endeavors. History has accumulated naturally on this campus; it does not aggressively cling to legacy, nor is it smothered by the cold, blaring progress of technology.
Situated on the Southeast edge of Holmgren Meadow, the BIMNS building stands in respectful dialogue with the oldest building on campus (Mills Hall). Decidedly contemporary without being flashy, BIMNS gives a much needed facelift to the entrance of the science hub of the campus. There is no mistake that this is a green building; the color ushers students, faculty and visitors in and out of the building’s doors via passage under a vine-covered trellis.
Inside, there is a resource monitoring system that displays the building’s energy usage, and a rain water collection tank in the courtyard beyond. The rainwater collection serves a very functional purpose, but there’s an art to it too. A sculptor was commissioned to design the bronze leaves that guide water down multiple cascading falls before being collected in the tank. Back inside the building, a spectrum of bright colors is tossed onto one of the large lobby walls, filtered through dichroic glass panels in the skylights. This pattern will shift throughout the day and year, depending on the sun’s position. It’s a pragmatic design unafraid of creative flourish. It responds elegantly to logistical questions, while remaining deeply concerned with the aesthetic, the ethical, and the holistic.
The front lobby also houses the art installation entitled Women Hold up Half the Sky. Karen Fiene (campus Architect , former EHDD principal and its first female president) explains that the exhibit “was created both to educate students about the great women leaders in the sciences and also to present mentors, Mills alumnae, who are currently in leading roles practicing as scientists across many allied disciplines.” The successes of Mills’ alumnae roll by on one monitor, while the projection above features the silhouettes of influential women of science. Contemporary media is utilized to look back in time with the intention of inspiring the young women scientists of our future. Fiene explains that part of the goal was to “challenge perceptions of women in the male dominated fields of the natural sciences”—a topic not unfamiliar in architecture. How fitting then, that two exemplary women leaders in their own field, Karen Fiene and EHDD principal in charge Jennifer Devlin, contributed so much to this building, on this campus that is also home to six Julia Morgan projects.
The BIMNS building is the link between the quad at Holmgren Meadow and the flourish of scientific inquiry housed in the buildings to the east, but that’s not all. The interior balances the demands of state of the art labs with environmental responsibility; quiet and comfortable classrooms with gathering spaces that encourage interaction. Furthermore, BIMNS is truly suSTAYnable, fostering a lasting interplay not only amongst its users, but between the fields of architecture and science, history and future, modesty and innovation, sustainability and art.
Braden Marks
Project Assistant at EHDD and a third-year MFA Candidate in the Creative Writing program at SFSU

Listening and Learning
There is perhaps nothing more inspiring, or more challenging, than staring into the upturned faces of twenty French speaking first graders in their current classroom at the Lycée Français in Corte Madera, California. My task, along with the wonderful director of the Marin campus, is to describe their new school to them. But where to start – how do you explain the process of design? What a plan is? How different it will look? It’s a cliché to say that children are our future, but it’s hard not to think about when you’re confronted with a classroom full. As an architect, I want to give them a place to learn and thrive. And I want them to inherit a healthy planet, and possess the vision and skills to be responsible caretakers.
A tiny hand shoots up in the second row, “why don’t they have arms?” he wants to know referring to the figures in my quick sketches. Children also take everything so literally… The truth, which I tell him, is that there hasn’t been time to draw arms! From the time we began in October to the day we have to break ground in April, only six months will have passed. Then there’s another four-month sprint of construction to renovate the 26,000 sq. ft. school and have it ready for move in by August 2014.
There was no time to draw arms, because we spent all our time hearing from the user groups, surveying parents and faculty, developing test fits and a vision for restoring the good bones of the original school. We heard a lot about lunch, a very important part of the French school day, and about the culture of the school, the need for storage, the desire for a central entrance, a place for the “minglers” and then we heard some more about lunch.
While the children pull the project towards the future, the buildings hearken from the past, from an era when what we now call sustainable practices were just the way things were done. The original structures, built in 1949 and 1952 are part of a classic California finger school plan. Central skylit corridors run the length of the spine of each building originally providing balanced light and natural ventilation as well as central circulation. In the intervening time, remodels have muddied this diagram, but returning to it is what our best schools strive to achieve – sustainable, healthy, light filled environments for learning.
Schools come in all shapes and sizes. Two of my favorite EHDD schools are on opposite ends of the continuum – Marin Country Day School is a private school set in a beautiful Marin landscape, while the Tenderloin Community School is a public school in a tough urban neighborhood in San Francisco. I’m always struck by the commonalities. Both have vibrant classrooms, and interstitial spaces that are more than just circulation. As I look at the sketches of the Lycée Français, I think it fits squarely in the middle of this continuum. Another EHDD school that will profoundly shape the lives of the kids who attend it.
Phoebe Schenker, AIA, LEED AP BD+C
Project Architect

Alfa Romeo and Juliet
I recently visited Verona, Italy, halfway between Milan and Venice, to learn more about designing with stone and the Italian stone trade. The Italian stone industry is centered in and around Verona, and has kept a lot of people gainfully employed during the economic downturn in Europe. Since the Romans made it an official colony in 89 BC, Verona has leveraged its’ geographical and petrological blessings into wealth and power, despite the distractions of being continuously overrun by foreign and not-so-foreign invaders.
A famous Brit named William Shakespeare wrote three plays set in Verona: The Taming of the Shrew, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and Romeo and Juliet. Romeo and Juliet is the iconic and tragic love-story, and it lures tourists by the thousands to this beautifully preserved medieval Italian city, culminating in a pilgrimage to a four-hundred year old stone house that some genius chamber-of-commerce-type christened as the Casa di Julietta. Befitting the most important shrine to Teenage Love, the votive offering of choice most commonly left behind are notes to Juliet affixed to the exterior wall of the building with bubble gum.
If Romeo and Juliet is the gateway drug for the city of Verona, then what compelled Caesar to spend his summer vacations there 1500 years before Shakespeare was born, and what other attractions and lessons does this beautiful city have to offer for both the tourist and urban design junkie like me?
Among the remains of the Roman city of Pompeii, there is a clay tile still mounted on a wall at the forum, which depicts two merchants (or deliverymen) carrying their goods in vases. The message is clear: deliveries to the rear. The ancient Roman tradition of banning the congestion and chaos of traffic out of what has historically been public spaces for people, has seen its’ ups and downs. Automobiles are relative new-comers to cities, and are definitely the party-crashers to some of the best people spaces in the world.
Fast-forward about two millennia to the year 2000 AD, and the city of Verona is named a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of its many historic buildings, including preserved Roman monuments, medieval churches and civic buildings, and many Romanesque churches that were built after a devastating earthquake in 1117 AD. Verona more recently banned automobile traffic from a large swath of the Centro, and the results are magical. A strong bicycle culture permeates the historic center of the city, and on a balmy September weekend, I observed entire families of Scaligeri (the preferred title for the natives), couples, Nonas and children traversing the alleys and streets on their biccicletti. Unlike the brutal, all-basalt cobbles of the typical Roman strada, many streets in Verona are paved with a smooth stripe of their famous pink and white limestone, which allows bicyclists to ride smoothly without knocking their fillings out.
Removing the fear of getting run down by an Alfa during one’s Passegiata (the Italian tradition of taking a casual stroll through public spaces and shopping streets) goes a long ways toward fostering community, promoting exercise and stimulating the local economy. This is “Old Urbanism,” and it works. People-scaled streets, free of cars, allows residents and tourists alike to experience all of those wonderful things that designers and developers spend lots of time and money trying to recreate: that magical urban density that fosters a healthy and diverse mix of physical, social, cultural and commercial experiences that binds us together as neighbors and friends of a shared home.
Old Urbanism, Verona-style, is not about medieval towers, beautiful balconies, and Italian palazzi (but they are molto bello). The fact that Verona is a beautifully preserved city with buildings and monuments spanning two millennia is just frosting on the cake cinnamon on my cappuccino. The best thing about walking around a city such as this, is the fact that I can hear all the conversations around me because there are no cars whizzing by. I can have a conversation with a friend on the street without shouting, or with someone waving down at me from a balcony (Ciao, Julietta!). There is no better way to build a strong community than to get to know your neighbors, and better still, pop into their gelateria or forno and buy some ice cream or bread. Civitas is the glue of Western Civilization, so don’t take it for granted. Insist on fewer Alfa Romeos and more Juliettas.
Kevin Killen, AIA, LEED® AP, BD+C
Director of the Residential Studio, Senior Associate



Castles on Ocean Beach
About halfway through the morning, the situation looked doubtful. There was a partial collapse on one side and an oversized protrusion on the other. Some structural flaws were becoming apparent, and there was a major log jam in our supply chain—the bucket brigade had gotten distracted by splashing in the kiddie pool. It was the morning of the annual Leap Sandcastle Contest, and we feared that the EHDD/Nibbi team castle was headed for disaster—or at least a radical downsizing.
Leap is a San Francisco non-profit organization that brings arts education programs (from architecture to dance) into public school. Their annual Sandcastle Classic on Ocean Beach pairs architects and contractors with local schools to design and construct a 20’ by 20’ sandcastle over the course of one day. This year, we were tasked to produce a sandcastle fitting the theme “Things that Jump”. A week before, we had visited our partner class—5th graders at Junipero Serra Elementary School—and had brainstormed and drawn ideas about jumping creatures, people and objects. Back at the office, we created a composite design using the drawings as inspiration and material. Our final model showed monsters (heads & tails) jumping out from under a bed, with various animals jumping on top of the bed. The bed’s headboard was made up of castle-like towers, a recurring theme in the class’ drawings.
The design proved challenging to realize. We had made a huge heap of sand, but articulating right angles—for the bed edges and especially for the tall towers—was an ongoing process of shoveling, packing, minor landslides, and more shoveling. However, like so many design projects, a combination of modifications, stubbornness, and, of course, the application of more hands, more sand, and more water, got us past our midday disarray. We adjusted the towers to be tiered, rather than straight, and we added about 5 additional tails protruding from the “bed” to give it some support. This had the added bonus of giving the kids the chance to be creative at ground level with scales, spikes, etc.
The final product towered over the beach—one of the largest sandcastles in the contest. The extra tails gave it a ton of energy, as well as visual appeal from all directions. We are proud to announce that we won, “Highest Jump”. At the end of the afternoon, the kids trooped off to Muni, covered with sand, and talking excitedly about next year. We can’t wait, either.
Leah Marthinsen, LEED® AP BD+C
Designer



Little School, Big Dreams
“When I grow up I want to be a, uh, an architect. I want to design maybe like a museum, maybe. With art and other stuff, like history stuff like cars, gold… stuff like that.” –David, 10 (TCS student)
Architect Joe Esherick – the late founder of EHDD – sat by Midge Wilson’s side in basements and stairwells throughout the Tenderloin district at countless community meetings throughout the late 80s and early 90s. What they were doing was listening.
At the time, the Tenderloin was the only San Francisco neighborhood without its own public school. Until the Tenderloin Community School (TCS) opened in 1998, approximately 1,200 Tenderloin children were bused off to nearly 50 different schools around the city. Wilson, Executive Director of the Bay Area Women’s and Children’s Center (BAWCC), led a decade-long campaign to create the TCS. When asked what doubts she had along the way, she replied, “There was never one second where I didn’t think we would pull off getting the school. I just thought, this needs to happen, this community is desperate for a place like this, so we’re just going to figure out a way to do it.”
Determined, Wilson approached renowned architect, Joe Esherick to design the school. “Our (BAWCC’s) philosophical approach is: you go to the top, you go to the best. If you don’t try for the best, then what’s the point?” Although Esherick hadn’t done pro bono work previously, he was an architect largely concerned with public projects, and an educator himself (as the dean of the College of Environmental Design at UC Berkeley). Esherick was easily moved by BAWCC’s mission, so he agreed to work on the project.
The TCS sits on a plot of land 1/10 the size of that of the average California grade school being built at that time. Curiously, most users comment on how big it feels. Third-grade teacher Marri Coen cited a feeling of spaciousness among her favorite features of the school, allowing her to implement a greater variety of teaching strategies. “The shapes of the classrooms are more conducive for having centers and small group learning. There are different little nooks and areas that make your classroom feel more dynamic.” Rather than teaching at the chalkboard and erasing, Ms. Coen finds it more effective to write on chart paper hung on the wall. “I keep the paper up and refer back to it, modify it, and add to it. It’s living wall paper and I have the space for that.”
After fifteen years of use, the building continues to provide unique opportunities to its students, faculty and staff. One example is “Rosa’s Kitchen,” an extra kitchen, in addition to that of the cafeteria, which makes Cooking Club possible. Each Thursday after the bell rings, Ms. Coen and “Coach Matt” host a group of six 10-year olds here to get hands-on experience preparing their own food. The kitchen comes alive with noise and excitement, with pepperoni and exploding flour.
The design surely activates the user; but the user, too, activates the design. Among their favorite spaces in the building, Ms. Coen’s third-graders mentioned the rooftop playground, the Computer Center, the library, and the outdoor garden with its towering sugar cane. When I asked how those spaces made them feel, they responded simply: they felt happy. Yes, but what is it about those spaces that makes you happy? The third-graders looked up with puzzled expressions: kind and trusting, but nonetheless bemused. Their furrowed brows seemed to say, We already told you we’re happy, what more is there to say? Maybe good design is that simple.
With the goal of fulfilling the community’s greatest desires, BAWCC and Esherick’s design team (including current EHDD principal Jennifer Devlin) sought input early in the design process from Tenderloin parents and the greater community. Esherick hosted a Summer Architect’s Program for 10 to 14-year olds from the neighborhood so that they could all better articulate their visions for the community. Wilson describes what drove the team, “It was all about ‘what is this creation, and is it truly meeting the need?’ It was the purest work I’ve ever been involved in.”
The Tenderloin was at last considered with the sensitivity its name evokes, and the community was asked: “what do you want?” Then they dreamed up a bright red and yellow building with a tiny footprint and big, beating heart.
Braden Marks
Project Assistant at EHDD and a third-year MFA Candidate in the Creative Writing program at SFSU


Climate Ride California 2012
The EHDD team (David Vogel, Michel St. Pierre, Andy Sohn, Brad Jacobson, Leah Marthinsen and Amy Leedham), participated in the recent 2012 Climate Ride California, a 5-day, 300 mile trek from Eureka to San Francisco. We raised $20,000 for non-profit organizations that work in green energy, sustainability, climate-change policy and bike advocacy. It was an amazing experience and a reminder of EHDD’s commitment to sustainability. I had never biked more than 30 miles before embarking on this trip, but I am glad to have shared the experience and was incredibly inspired by the beautiful scenery and people I met.
The group of 150 cyclists convened on Saturday September 8th near Crissy Field in San Francisco. After registration, we headed to Fortuna, CA where we would start the ride on Sunday.
Day 1 Fortuna to Richardson Grove: 65 Miles
The first day of riding was one of my favorites because we rode through the awe-inspiring Avenue of the Giants. These Redwoods are hundreds of years old and are a wonderful testament to the power and beauty of the earth and serve as a reminder of what we are trying to protect. Along the way, our team was joined by The Natural Resources Defense Council (one of our beneficiaries) and the speedy Jeff Maddox from The Fire Consultants.
Day 2 Richardson Grove to Casper Beach: 68 Miles
Day two started much the same as Day 1 ended on a beautiful flat course through redwoods. As we made our way to the coast, the terrain quickly became more challenging. We tackled some serious hills and a couple of our riders (myself included) had no idea how our bodies would react to over 60 miles and 4,000 feet of elevation gain. To keep our spirits high, our captain serenaded us with his rendition of Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance followed by some Barry Manilow interpretations from other team members.
That night, we camped at Casper Beach and listened to a few presentations including one from our very own Brad Jacobson on the sustainability accomplishments of the Packard Foundation. We were lulled to sleep by the crashing waves and the barking seals.
Day 3 Casper Beach to Duncans Mills: 102 Miles
Our third day started very early in order to give the ambitious riders enough time to complete the “century” ride, a 100-mile stretch. We had to pace ourselves and consume just enough energy to keep moving. As we bicycled through rolling coastal hills, we took breaks every 12 miles or so to take in fluids and food. The absolutely pristine shoreline reminded us of the importance of protecting our valuable natural resources.
Day 4 Duncans Mills to Olema: 58 Miles
On day 4, the majority of our team rode together at an easy pace stopping frequently for coffee, wine tasting and oysters; taking in the beauty around us.
Day 5 Olema to San Francisco: 41 miles
While the last day was the shortest, it was by no means the easiest. Exhausted after 5 nights of camping, we had to get over the big hills that stood between us and City Hall in San Francisco. After some much needed caffeine, we took off for the epic climb into the fog. I had no idea what to expect from these hills, but am so proud that I did not walk once! We made it over a foggy Golden Gate Bridge to regroup with the Climate Ride Staff and other riders. We rode together to City Hall where Leah Shahum of the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition welcomed us back and updated us on the progress achieved for SF cyclists since last year’s Climate Ride.
Overall this was a life changing experience for me. I had never ridden my bike that much, nor seen the natural wonders of Northern California before. It was fun to be around people who are, like me, passionate about the need to combat climate-change. It was refreshing to see the different ways people approach the key issues. As designers and architects it is easy to only spend time with each other and get tunnel vision, but meeting all these amazing people and discussing their work further reinforced my belief in a multi-disciplinary approach to solving problems of all scales, including perhaps the ultimate one, designing a better future.
Thanks to everyone who donated to our team, especially Arc-Norcal, McCutcheon Construction and Abet, Inc. Until next year!
Amy Leedham, LEED® AP
Designer

The Burning Man Phenomenon
How ever you may have heard of Burning Man referred to, there is no fair way to fully describe the phenomenon of Burning Man—the event—until you have gone and experienced it for yourself. Every year at the end of August, Black Rock City manifests for a week in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada. It is both a festival and a temporary city that is unlike any other. Burning Man is a deeply personal and simultaneously collective experience.
In 1986 Burning Man started in San Francisco as a small gathering on Baker Beach. By the mid 1990’s, it evolved into a temporary city of 9000 (in the middle of the Black Rock Desert) found via GPS coordinates. As of August 2012, Black Rock City had become a minor metropolis of 50,000 +. BRC is a fully functioning city, yet utterly temporary and free from many of the constraints of modern life. Art is everywhere; advertising and product placement are not. Nothing can be bought or sold (save for ice). Clothing is optional. Gifting, radical self-reliance and “Leave No Trace” are central tenants. Spontaneous expressions of joy are paramount.
Black Rock City is an amazing urban, social and cultural experiment largely because it is temporary, exists for a finite amount of time every year, requires thousands of volunteer hours, millions of dollars, and goes away without a trace. Burning Man continues to permeate modern cultural mythology, conversation, Facebook photos, and blog sites long after the dust settles first Saturday in September and the Man burns.
The Black Rock Desert is one of the harshest environments on earth (high desert, on a dried up alkaline lake bed). The environment is brutal, hot, dusty and dry. Nighttime temperatures drop dramatically. Dust storms create white out conditions. The environment requires vigilance and perseverance. The removal from an urbanized environment to one that is remote, uninhabited, and simply beautiful is part of what makes BRC the festival of festivals, and such an interesting urban experiment. It is a highly orchestrated, carefully planned, but totally unconstrained event. BRC is also amazing because it is temporary, the natural beauty and quality of light are dramatic, the location is far from civilization, and the experience at large is a complete sensory overload.
Everything that is BRC, from the people, law enforcement, art, massive sound stages, theme camps, art cars, and other curiosities is from the outside world. Burning Man is partially defined though decomodification within the event, but it is completely dependent upon resources and finances from the outside world.
This is where the paradox arises. BRC would not exist without the outside world. (Insert: discussion about global sustainability). It is a “Leave No Trace” event, but one that is dependent upon external resources that have to be appropriated, transported, consumed and then disposed of “elsewhere.” While “Leave No Trace” is a fundamental principle and environmental stewardship is deeply embedded in Burning Man culture, there is something peculiar and inherently hypocritical about drinking organic coconut water while engaging in the conspicuous consumption of hydrocarbons.
That said…Burning Man is a dramatic display of collective energy, excitement and self-expression. It is a test of self and a challenge to the dominant hegemony of the corporate globalized world. It is a very special event, and I am grateful for the opportunities I have had to experience, participate in, and share in Black Rock City.
Elizabeth Jackson
Designer

