floor, and a more innovative system of “phase-changing materials”
installed in the ceiling as high-tech insulation. These PCM modules
consist of honeycomblike sheets of wax-filled capsules that possess
thermodynamic properties. With changes in ambient temperatures,
the wax liquefies (as it absorbs heat) or solidifies (as it releases heat
back into a room).
Essentially, the team reduced the building’s energy requirement
to what the sun could supply. A thin-film photovoltaic system covers
35,000 square feet of the facade, alongside microalgae tubes and
between open-air viewing gardens. Rooftop solar panels are spread
over 30,000 square feet of roof, amid the bubbles and louvers of the
atria. The microalgae bioreactor would cover 25,000 square feet of
“As architects we have to put our egos aside,” Monika
Kumor says, offering up new priorities: “First, think
about where we are on the planet, about how the site
and climate inform us, then design.”
the exterior but produce only 9 percent of total energy needs. The sys-
tem requires infrastructure, separators, and a centrifuge. Harwick, the
engineer, left that part of the project to the architects. Cell structure
was “all HOK,” he concedes. He remained fixed on the environmental
dynamics of the site and the sources of energy that nature could deliver
now. “The first things we started looking at are: How do we harvest wind
and sun?” he says. “In the sixties, that thought process was not in place.”
Sixties-era architects had “little concern for energy consumption,”
says Charles Matta, director of strategic program resources in the GSA’s
Public Buildings Service. The best-intentioned architects used single
glazing on vast expanses of glass with little attention to solar heat gain.
They also “experimented with introducing composite materials and
assemblies that didn’t hold up well.” Matta points out another failing
of the decade: buildings were rarely conceived as part of the urban
fabric, leaving today’s designers with the challenge of reconnecting
big, foreboding buildings to their communities.
The value of early interdisciplinary dialogue with engineers led
the Process Zero team to a new respect for collaboration and context,
hence the project title’s focus on process. “As architects, we have to put
our egos aside,” Kumor says. After conducting extensive studies for
the atria, she offered new priorities: “First, think about where we are
on the planet, about how the site and the climate inform us, then design.”
Quinn worked with Anica Landreneau, sustainable-design director
at HOK’s D.C. office, to form the team. Another specialist, Alesia Call,
used her background in policy issues to map out future research and
a business plan; Colin Benson and Jarek Bieda turned the concepts into
striking visuals. Sean Williams, an associate architect from the Tampa,
Florida, office, produced the site analysis, which shows concern for water
runoff and uses a combination of green and permeable paved spaces.
Black water, gray water, and rain are filtered to recharge the algae sys-
tem. The outdoor ponds and park improve the view from offices above.
