FRIENDSHIP
CIRCLE
natural is this interior that there are rooms where
you do a double-take, trying to distinguish the room
you’re in from the outdoors viewed through the
window. In some places patterns on a wall made
from recycled wood chips and chunks match the
riotous random pattern of the ferns, salal, tree
trunks, and forest-floor detritus visible outside.
A given piece of furniture—crafted out of a log or
featuring spindles made from unfinished tree
branches—looks more or less like the tree parts
outside, just a few feet away.
“Is that real? It’s plastic, right?”
“We really tried to make the learning something
kids experience,” O’Rourke says. “We try to model
for the kids. It’s great fun when they are surprised
by something.”
“How come all the windows are on one side?”
“Someone asked Dr. Seuss one time, ‘Why do you
write about things that are out of whack?’” says
Clancy Wolf, Island Wood’s technology coordinator.
“And that’s one of the really neat things about these
buildings: they’re in a sense out of whack. So when
something doesn’t sit right with the way kids are
used to, they’re going to check their assumptions.”
“How come the roof’s upside down?”
“Like when kids get outside and look back
here,” Wolf continues, “they see this butterfly roof
instead of a normal one with the peak in the middle. One side of the roof is designed to have solar
gain, and we want high windows facing south so we
can get passive solar heat, and the roof butterflies
there so we can capture the water right down the
middle, pour it into that cistern. Kids see that kind
of stuff and ask about it.”
The Friendship Circle provides a
sheltered outdoor gathering space
for educational programs and campfires. The red-cedar logs were selectively harvested locally.
Island Wood’s architecture, then, is didactic. Mithun project lead
David Goldberg calls the structures “a textbook.” The buildings are
a meta-environment: they’re not only sustainable, they’re about
being sustainable. There doesn’t seem to be any element to the architecture that isn’t making a statement about itself.
Island Wood’s Welcome Center—a large, spacious room—features
a 97-foot beam, hewn from old-growth timber 150 years ago by
the old mill, suspended from the ceiling in tandem with a replica
The buildings are a meta- of one of the mill’s massive saw blades. The eye-catching display
environment: they’re not only is designed to deliver a history lesson. You watch shoeless fourth- graders sliding giddily across the concrete floor in their socks under
sustainable, they’re about be- this arrangement and you’re reminded of children’s stories for adults:
ing sustainable. There doesn’t the genre that appeals to kids while offering a deeper message
accessible only to their elders. continued on page 126
seem to be any element to the
architecture that isn’t making
a statement about itself.
Summer
sun
The Floating Classroom was suggested
by a child at a charrette. An underwater pulley system operated by
onboard hand cranks carries small
groups across Mac’s Pond to take samples for a watershed-quality course.
LEARNING
STUDIO
Photovoltaics:
25-cm array
Passive
solar heating
The south side of the Learning
Studio’s butterfly roof is precisely
angled to capture the winter-
solstice sun. PV cells cover the
longer northern side, and in
the center, water for irrigation
is captured in a cistern.
Winter
sun
Natural
ventilation
PV-powered
exhaust fan
Natural
daylight
Natural
ventilation
Floor plan and drawings, courtesy Mithun;
Learning Studio section redrawn by Nick Grappone
Rainwater
collection
Composting
toilet bins
Natural
daylight
Radiant-floor
heating