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1. Marine Way Office Building 2. Bayshore Office Building 3 & 4 Parking Garages

High visibility atria in the office buildings were key to creating a more vibrant, functional campus for Intuit. These centrally located all-hands spaces had to do many things: reinforce and lend definition to campus patterns, welcome up to 500+ people at a time, and serve different events with varying light, sound, and capacity needs. As the lead corporate campus architect, WRNS Studio had proposed vast clerestory windows in the atria that filled the low, wide floor plates (up to 60,000 sq ft) with natural light and a connection to the sky — key to the experience of beauty and delight favored by the design team. When it came time to execute the design for the first new Marine Way office building on the campus, however, it took a deep dive into Design Development to uncover a viable technical solution for the clerestory windows.

Challenges

Suspended four floors above the deck, with a 60-foot span, the atrium clerestory windows presented no shortage of challenges: We wanted the atrium to be an uplifting, light-filled space, with the clerestories lending texture to scale down its capaciousness. The long span condition, an aesthetic and experiential imperative, could not be broken up by structure; the clerestory windows had to support themselves. In addition to pulling daylight into the interior, the clerestories needed to be controllable, allowing the atrium to darken for presentations, and to transition back easily, supporting supplemental artificial lighting. Likewise, the clerestories needed to integrate with the building’s other systems, helping to balance sound (large atria can get loud), embed fire sprinklers, and act as a passive smoke exhaust system. A strategy for cleaning the windows and general maintenance was required. Then there was constructability: How could we avoid installing a ton of expensive scaffolding?

Certainly not a first for WRNS — initial sketches to solve this head-scratcher happened late at night over wine, progressing to a solution that is at once detailed and expansive.

Pre-cast to the Rescue

After many iterations, we landed on a pre-cast clerestory beam system. The advantages were many: pre-cast beams would allow for the integration of vertical clerestory glazing, which would be much easier to maintain and present fewer waterproofing concerns compared with skylights. We knew the beams could span structurally (we’d designed them in parking structures), and they’d arrive on the site with a finished surface crafted at the shop, good for schedule and quality control. The pre-cast solution would allow us to create a custom shape to meet our objectives for drama and texture of light, sound absorption, and views of the sky.

But could we actually do it? The span was long (60 feet!). The beams would have to be deep and heavy. Thankfully, Willis Construction was on the job. Of the many advantages to using a pre-cast system, we could work with our fabricator in real time to prototype and test ideas for shaping the beam, carving, and bending light to our needs.

Collaborate, Iterate

The pre-cast clerestory beam in Willis Construction Yard

The pre-cast clerestory beam solution was a true collaboration with Willis Construction: design aesthetic meets engineering, structural analysis, and physical testing. Development of the beam’s shape and geometry was a lengthy and detailed dialogue: Willis conducted full-size, 6’ x 8’ mockups at their yard, which we reviewed together for shape and finish. These mockups complemented WRNS’ in-house computer model. We also sent a model of the pre-cast system to our acoustical consultant, who did a thorough analysis looking at ways that the beams’ shape and surface treatment might mitigate sound reflection within the large space.

Panoramic rendering iterations

In all, eight iterations were explored, each investigating the beam’s specific shape, density, and rotation. The different versions were illustrated as interactive panoramic renderings and presented to Intuit as part of a holistic analysis focused largely on the qualities of light in the atrium. The selected solution was further studied in a virtual reality simulation and presented to Intuit.

Detail Diagram

Detail

This section of the pre-cast beam illustrates its form, structure, and integration with the building’s MEP systems — optimizing the shape to address every aspect, from structure to acoustics, to address specific needs. Intuit wanted their new workplace to be raw and informal, robust and monumental. As an integral part of the structure, the pre-cast beams allowed for a consistent and strong, but elegant surface. The beams were hoisted high above the roof, and slowly lowered between the cast-in-place concrete girder walls, then telescoping steel tubes were extended to take the primary gravity loads. Initial discussions focused on access and the ability for maintenance staff to walk across and service the roof & glazing safely, and we shaped the beams accordingly. Electrochromic glass used for the vertical clerestory glazing allows for easy dimming or darkening via controls. An acoustic plaster fascia panel on the inside face of each beam houses sprinklers and attachment points for multiple pendant tube-lamp fixtures.

Light and shadow

In early iterations, the clerestory windows were facing north, until our resident building technologies sage Moses Vaughan, got involved. We were about to ask our client to invest heavily in an engineering feat — integrating these large, heavy beams into the overall systems approach to the atrium — when it was brought to our attention that the light we’d be pulling in from the north would be beautiful, but soft. Based on observation of similar clerestory windows we had researched, it became apparent we were missing an opportunity to capture the kind of strong direct sunlight that would make for dynamic shadow play traversing daily across the all-hands space. Moving through the space, the beams might appear to “unfold” as they bend light inward. By reversing the orientation of the clerestory lights from north to south-facing, we maximized the spatial drama through light, shadow, and texture.

Constructability

The pre-cast, clerestory beam portion of the project was technically a design-build effort, anticipating not only the design and engineering but also how we were going to fabricate, transport, and insert the beams into the structure. Significant engineering went into just the installation process itself. Given the individual beam weight (each at 88,000 lbs) we needed a heavy-duty crane with serious capacity. One of two cranes on the west coast rated for 80 tons was rented, pushing us to an even bigger “100-ton crane.” This added power brought its own structural and safety challenges, as the only site on campus that made sense for locating the crane was directly atop an existing culvert. This culvert services all of the Mountain View greenbelts, so the operation was understandably sensitive. We shored up the foundation around the culvert to ensure the crane’s weight was distributed on either side of the tunnel, ensuring it wouldn’t fall through.

The weight of one beam is equivalent to that of an adult humpback whale or railway boxcar.

Tectonics + Identity

The atrium is the ultimate connector: building to campus (as a mid-block crossing), interior to exterior, ground to sky, and people to one another. With the beams installed, it became immediately apparent that the pre-cast clerestory beams would indeed conjure the kind of airy texture — light and shadow drifting down from above and playing off of the atrium’s surfaces throughout the day — that would endow the space with that timeless, inspirational quality we recognize in really good buildings. If place marks and reflects identity, then the spaces in which we come together as a community have the opportunity to put a fine point on aspiration. As the atrium advances coherence and vibrancy at the campus scale, so do its tectonics — and specifically, the innovative approach to pre-cast clerestory beams — make possible the atrium’s success on the programmatic scale as a multi-use, all-hands community space that reflects Intuit’s identity and aspiration.

Q: How did you get involved with Boeddeker Park?

Jennifer: The Trust for Public Land’s mission is to create places that support healthy, livable communities for generations to come. In the Bay Area, our Parks for People program is working in underserved urban neighborhoods to help give everyone a vibrant, quality park within walking distance of their home. Boeddeker Park has been on our radar since about 2006. Over fifty thousand people live within a half-mile radius of the park, and over 10,000 of those are living below the poverty line. The need in the Tenderloin was so great, and the park had such potential to thrive.

We frequently partner with the Recreation and Parks Department, which manages over 4,000 acres of land, 34 recreation centers, nine swimming pools and is the City’s largest provider of the Trust for Public Land’s services. In 2007, we began a San Francisco initiative to rebuild three parks in high-need areas, catalyzed by the generosity of five lead donors: Banana Republic, Levi Strauss Foundation, McKesson, Pacific Gas and Electric Company, and Wells Fargo. Working with the City, we leveraged their initial $5 million into $16.5 million of public and private funding. That money enabled us to work with Recreation and Parks to completely redesign and re-build three parks: Hayes Valley Playground (also with WRNS), Balboa Park, and Boeddeker Park. We knew from the start that Boeddeker would be the most complex.

Brian: As for WRNS, we had signed up with Public Architecture’s 1% pro bono program to provide design assistance to nonprofit organizations. The Trust for Public Land contacted us about helping with the design of Hayes Valley Playground. We donated a couple of phases of work, and then for the rest of that project, as was the case with Boeddeker Park, we essentially provided all of our work at cost, donating our overhead and profit.

Q: What were your impressions the first time you visited Boeddeker Park?

Brian: In the old park, you would walk down a main walkway, and it would feel like you were cut off from all the programmatic activities. There were raised benches and low walls on either side of that walkway that divided the green space, the basketball court, the playground. You had to walk around these walls to get into many of the spaces. So it took a lot of effort to participate in the park. And because the entry to the park was a good distance from the clubhouse, it was difficult for the recreation director to watch what was going on while running programs from the building. The building itself had a nice, voluminous space. But its walls had a sawtooth configuration that alternated solid walls with glass, cutting off sight lines, and the main level of the building was 4 feet underground, which further separated it from the park.

Previous Site Condition

Q: What was the community process for redesigning Boeddeker like?

Jennifer: We conducted extensive community outreach, holding public meetings and forums where everyone could come together to join in what we call ‘participatory design’. We invited people to the site and we also had focus groups at various places—youth centers, senior centers, churches—wherever local people were likely to come. Residents from the Tenderloin participated, as well as representatives of service organizations like the YMCA, Boys & Girls Club, Youth with a Mission, and City Academy. Key decisions were made at those community forums.

Brian: There is a lot of housing for seniors in the neighborhood. And the Tenderloin population has one of the highest percentages of children in San Francisco. But the kids and the families and the seniors weren’t using the park very much. We needed to create a space where adults could enjoy the park on their own or with children, while also making room for kids with their families or in groups. The park had to allow people of all ages to coexist at the same time, while also providing a safe space. This is the kind of issue that came out at the community meetings and informed our design response.

Q: What surprised you the most about what the community wanted?

Brian: The northern end in the existing park was a beautiful, quiet space in the middle of a busy urban area. I was surprised at the great reception from the community for nurturing that and keeping it as a quiet area for community gardening, senior activities, and adult fitness.

Jennifer: At one of the first meetings, a hand shot up and a participant asked, “Can we have solar panels on the roof? Can we be off the grid? Can we have a community garden?” I hadn’t expected that the principles of sustainability would have been such a priority.

Q: This was one of the first projects in the Sustainable SITES Initiative, is that correct?

Jennifer: That’s right. The park has pervious concrete and bioswales and a stormwater infiltration system under the lawn. The plant palette has a lot of California natives, which we’re excited about, because the Tenderloin has a lot of new immigrants to California. So the park gives them a little taste of California.

Brian: A signage program throughout the park indicates sustainable elements, and a key map at the front door to the clubhouse explains each element. The clubhouse is completely heated by a geothermal system—it’s one of the first public projects in San Francisco to implement geothermal. About eight cores under the basketball court go down about 200 feet, and they extract heat from the earth and transfer that into heating which feeds radiant tubing in the concrete slabs. The main spaces in the building have no air conditioning. The cathedral-like space in the main recreation room makes use of the stack effect to bring air through and up, so there’s no need for ceiling fans in that space. In the meeting room, we didn’t quite have that volume, but there are operable windows all around and a ceiling fan. Only a couple of offices have air conditioning.

Q: How did you address security concerns?

Brian: Security was a big issue. The community appreciated the idea of creating safety through transparency rather than through gates and enclosures and walls. Now, once you enter the park, you can access lots of different places from one point. You don’t have to go through a playground to get to the lawn, for example.

Jennifer: During a meeting with the Boys & Girls Club, we asked what would make the kids feel comfortable in the park, and one teenage boy said, “I want to know that I am seen by an adult when I come into the park.” We shifted the entry so that everyone has to walk right past the new clubhouse.

Brian: The old clubhouse was sunk four feet below grade, so rec directors couldn’t see from the building to the park. The new one is raised, and it’s all glass, so when people walk in, the recreation director is going to notice them.  Elevating the clubhouse enables building program activities to be visible from the street, which promotes this as a safe center of the community.  Also, we took down heavy, wrought iron fences and put in new, visually lighter fencing around the park. It’s still secure, but you can see through it.

Jennifer: From the very beginning of the project, we told the community, “Design is only going to be part of the solution.” The other part is going to be working together with the Recreation and Parks Department, with the police department, and with all of the different user groups to make sure that the operations, maintenance, stewardship, and programming are working together well. This park is going to be opening at a time in which the social fabric around it is a lot stronger and more cohesive than when we started design. Boeddeker is a place where different groups can unite. The park will have a lot more programming than it used to.

Brian: This kind of project doesn’t come up very often in historic urban neighborhoods that have a great need for open space. It is just a wonderful opportunity to make something better.

This year marks the 125th anniversary of the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi. A recent event in Honolulu commemorating this anniversary was attended by thousands of people, marching from the Hawaiʻian Royal Mausoleum (Mauna Ala) to the Iolani Palace, where Queen Liliʻuokalani — the Hawaiʻian Kingdom’s last reigning monarch — was forcibly removed from the throne.

Most Americans know Hawaiʻi as one of the planet’s great vacation spots, for its surfing, volcanoes, and Pearl Harbor. I can speak from personal experience that, at least via my own public school education, the version of Hawaiʻi’s history that I received was highly romanticized and biased, and as you can imagine, not in favor of native Hawaiʻians. I can vaguely remember back to 1959 when Hawaiʻi was admitted as our country’s 50th state. For many Americans it was cause for celebration and a statement of progress and great national optimism. But for others, not so much. There has lately been a concerted nationwide effort to revisit our history (not revise), to seek and recognize unbiased and unfiltered truth and in Hawaiʻi, this recognition has never been more evident.

Current anthropology points to the original settlement of the Hawaiʻian Islands by Polynesians from the South Pacific’s Marquesas Islands between 300 and 500 AD. A second wave of settlement followed between 900 and 1000 AD, this time from the Tahitian islands. Using their knowledge of the sea and the stars, the Tahitians navigated their double-hulled canoes some 3,500 miles north, landing first on the Big Island (the island of Hawaiʻi). These settlers came in waves, bringing most everything necessary for survival, including food crops and livestock — none of which were native to the Islands.

This community grew and flourished and by the time Europeans first made contact, the population was estimated between 800,000 to 1,000,000. Hawaiʻi was a completely self-sustaining, ecologically balanced community and by some accounts, one that enjoyed the highest standard of living of any human settlement on the planet. All of that began to change when the British Captain James Cook ran into the Islands during his third voyage to the Pacific. Commanding his sailing ships Resolution and Discovery, Cook first sighted the islands of Oʻahu, then Kauaʻi and Niʻihau and on January 20, 1778, landed in Waimea on the island of Kauaʻi. There are many accounts of ‘post-contact’ Hawaiʻian history, but I found Julia Flynn Siler’s book, Lost Kingdom, to be very clear, informative and most importantly, truthful.

Unlike many of its predecessors, Siler's book eschews the bias and historical perspective of Christian missionaries and their imperial counterparts to focus on the experience of native Hawaiʻians. Siting over 275 sources, Siler explores the degradation of Hawaiʻi's people, culture, and land, culminating in the forced abdication of Queen Liliʻuokalani's throne. For a good review / synopsis of the book, please find it here. 

Queen Lili'uokalani

Formal annexation of sovereign territory happens and is internationally recognized through treaty, most often as a result of cessation of conflict (mostly armed). Not that all treaties are fair or are they honored — just look to many of those executed between Native American tribes and the US government — but a treaty between nations still represents an internationally recognized form of agreement and due-process. No such treaty was ever executed between Queen Liliʻuokalani, the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi and the United States Government and thus, the status of Hawaiʻi is not entirely clear. A ruling coming out of an arbitrated case in the Hague’s International Court of Justice and its Permanent Court of explicitly recognizes the Hawaiʻian Kingdom as a State and the acting Government (the current State Government) as its representative, which is also recognition that the Hawaiʻian Kingdom was never formally annexed by the United States, but rather illegally occupied since the Spanish-American War in 1898. So what does this all mean? Well, according to this ruling and the legal minds associated with it, Hawaiʻi is an occupied territory and not really part of the United States.

The overthrow of Queen Liliʻuokalani and all that has transpired in Hawaiʻi since has, over time, precipitated many groups and movements that have advocated for a wide range of outcomes, from varying levels of Hawaiʻian sovereignty to outright succession from the Union. One of the current and very significant sovereignty movements is the Aloha ʻAina Party. This political party is working to assure social, economic, and environmental justice for the peoples of Hawaiʻi. Their foundational principles are expressed as follows and note, I’ve condensed and summarized:

• Aloha ke Akua: acknowledgment of the existence of a higher, spiritual power, and the freedom for all to worship and seek guidance as their conscience moves them;

• Aloha Kānaka: love for all the people, regardless of race, color, creed, or national origin;

• Mālama ʻĀina: respect for the land and recognition that the relationship between the well-being of the land and the well-being of the people are inextricably linked;

• Government Accountability and Transparency: strong belief that the government must truly be of the People, by the People, and for the People and must be transparent and accountable;

• Hoʻoponopono: To make right what is wrong, specifically as related to the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi in 1893 – something that must be addressed and rectified.

The principle of Mālama ʻĀina is perhaps the one that most resonates with those of us at WRNS as we celebrate our five year anniversary in the State.  One would think that by virtue of its geography, cultural history, and unique physical environment, Hawaiʻi would still — as it once was — be on the forefront when it comes to creating an environmentally sustainable community. Nothing, unfortunately, could be further from the truth.

Located almost in the center of the Pacific Ocean, Hawaiʻi is one of the most geographically isolated places on earth. Within 30 miles on the big island of Hawaiʻi alone, ecosystems range from marine coral reefs to snow-capped mountains. The world's wettest spot, Mt. Waialeale on the island of Kauai, receives over 430 inches of rain per year. Hundreds of different soil types are spread across the islands’ 6,400 square miles and the islands possess a combined 750-mile coastline — one almost as long as that of California. While this isolation has supported the evolution of diverse environments for flora and fauna found nowhere else on earth, it has also enabled a multitude of serious local environmental issues.

The most critical of these concern Hawaiʻi's unique biodiversity and the associated threats caused by introduced, invasive species. While Miconia weed, the coqui frog, and dengue fever spread by mosquitoes have received publicity most recently (and btw, mosquitos are not native to Hawaiʻi), they represent just a few of the thousands of species of animals, insects, plants, and organisms that have been introduced on the islands — many of which have turned invasive, wreaking environmental havoc. Unchecked and poorly planned development has caused the contamination of ground water with organic chemicals, and pollution of coastal waters with sediments and pathogens from both urban and agricultural runoff. The presence of numerous chemicals in active and former military sites represent an additional set of serious environmental challenges. The result of all this is Hawaiʻi’s dubious title as the "extinction capital of the world", with almost 40% of the endangered species in the United States being Hawai`ian species and nearly 75% of all U.S. extinctions occurring in Hawaiʻi. It is within this context that the Aloha ‘Aina Party is advancing the principle of Mālama ʻĀina as one of its key tenets. Mālama ʻĀina — respect for the land — has encouraged a wave of new thinking and activism as related to conservation, energy generation, energy consumption, waste and water management, and agricultural practice. All of it inspired by native Hawaiʻian tradition.

As WRNS celebrates our fifth year in Hawaiʻi, we draw inspiration from Mālama ʻĀina. One of the catalysts for opening a practice here, in addition to personal histories and connections, was our understanding of the State’s critical need for a higher level of sustainability-driven planning and design. We have witnessed in many of Hawaiʻi's residents, both native and local, a great desire to help redirect the state from a continued trajectory that could result, once again, in peril. Of course architecture is only one piece of the puzzle, but crafting buildings and environments that help solve contemporary problems — in ways that are respectful and authentic to the islands’ environment and cultural history — is fundamental to our approach. And we’ve found great need for more of it. 

We arrived on-island at an interesting time, as the political will of the people and institutions were beginning to mount a serious campaign to create a place that can be an inspiration and example to the rest of the world. By virtue of its unique geography and cultural history, Hawaiʻi is, in a sense, the ‘canary in the coal mine’ as it relates to the rest of the planet (that is, how Hawaiʻi goes, so goes the planet). Based on our relationships, our point-of-view and our experience, Hawaiʻi represented a natural opportunity in which to participate in the discussions shaping Hawaiʻi's future. 

We have been honored to be a part of the following projects:

• Planning for cultural gardens at Kamehameha Schools;

• Sustainability Advisors to the State Department of Education (DOE); 

• Development of an Infrastructure Master Plan for the University of Hawaiʻi’s Manoa Campus (a framework to meet net-zero energy and water goals and a plan for resiliency); 

• Designers for the conversion of a historic UH Manoa gymnasium into one of the campus’ first net-zero buildings;

• Developing a master plan for the Kuhio Park public housing community (creating a place of dignity for Pacific Islanders displaced by the US Governments atomic testing in Micronesia); 

• Designers for a green, high-rise urban school (Pohukaina) that will help create community in a new high-density urban development; 

• Designers for a high-rise, senior housing and community center project to help fill the acute need for affordable housing for a poorly served population.

In various ways, these projects strive to support the precepts of Mālama ʻĀina as well as Hoʻoponopono — to help right what is wrong. We didn’t come to Hawaiʻi to design buildings that could be anywhere. We came to apply the best of our thinking to help right the ways in which Hawai’I has been wronged — at least as related to planning and design. While the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi represented the end of what was — at one time — a self-sufficient, self-reliant, sustainable community, the event’s 125th anniversary represents somewhat of a re-birth of the notion that Hawaiʻi can and should get back on the path leading to what it once was. WRNS, by virtue of our point-of-view, experience, and deep relationship with Hawaiʻi, hopes to humbly assist.

As Hawaiʻi goes, so goes the Earth: The Hawaiʻian islands as seen from the International Space Station on January 18, 2014; source. 

Sources and links:

• A concise summary of the Hawaiʻian Sovereignty movement can be found through this Wikipedia link, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawai`ian_sovereignty_movement;

• Please refer to the link https://www.alohaainaparty.com/principles for the full text of the principles set forth by the Aloha ‘Aina Party;

• Please refer to the link http://www.hsso.org/kd/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/Hawaii-Invasive-Species-Official-List-%E2%80%93-2017-rev2.pdf for a list of Official Hawaiʻi Invasive Species. Note that there is a distinction between "introduced" and "invasive." There are many more species than listed here that have been "introduced" in Hawaiʻi (e.g. the pineapple), but left to their own devices they won't become environmentally "invasive." That is, they cannot exist untended in the wild and thus, present minimum environmental risk. However — and specifically in the case of the pineapple — it could be argued that its introduction as a major agricultural crop was highly invasive and destructive from an environmental, social, and cultural perspective. 

Working to ensure a green school for everyone in this generation is a critical opportunity for all of us, not only because schools account for a lot of resources, but because they house our future—they are places where students learn. Being able to teach students early about resource conservation and helping them build good habits at a young age is key to furthering the movement.

One of our core beliefs at WRNS Studio is that we need to approach educational design holistically—thinking about design at the policy level, as part of the curriculum, and as an educational tool for the community at large.

We are shifting green from a movement to a lifestyle by working with the states of California and Hawai’i. Last year, we worked with California’s Division of the State Architect’s 7x7x7 initiative to help 10,000 existing K–12 public schools reduce energy and water usage. We are continuing our work with Northern California school districts—whether it is designing LEED-targeted master plans or healthier classrooms. We are also working with the Hawaii Department of Education to green 256 existing campuses, developing templated strategies that can be deployed at every aspect of development.

On a national level, we have worked with Pacific Gas and Electric Company on their Zero Net Energy Pilot Project, which includes the Stevens Library at Sacred Heart Schools in Atherton, California—the first library in the United States and the first school building in California to achieve Net Zero Energy Building Certification from the International Future Living Institute (ILFI). In addition to partnering with ILFI on the Stevens Library, we are currently assisting them with five Living Building Challenge programs.

Our aim is to not only transform schools into healthier environments, but to create inspired places of learning and to support the growth and development of our planet’s future stewards, policymakers, business people, and community members. I have been blessed to be mentored and challenged by the sustainable community and am humbled to be recognized by the Best of Green Schools program as a partner in this pursuit.

This was originally published on the USGBC website’s Center for Green Schools page.

Lightweight, Green, Efficient
Residing somewhere between stucco and French limestone there’s Glass Fiber Reinforced Concrete (GFRC), a building material typically associated with suburban office parks, less with distinguished architectural design. Yet, working with GFRC on several projects in recent years has helped us innovate, using common panelized materials while still addressing issues of scale, texture, rhythm, and even transparency and solar exposure. Produced with far less concrete than cast-in-place, or even pre-cast panels, GFRC is lightweight, cost-effective, and green.

UCSF Mission Hall Global Health Sciences Building
This 266,000 square foot project was initially a design competition requiring an early team commitment of Architects, Engineering Consultants, Contractor and sub-contractors to collaborate from day one to evolve the highest value solution, which was then delivered as a Guaranteed Maximum Price offering to the client. Working together, our team adopted construction strategies and committed to particular forms, materials, and fabrication techniques, inventing the production process alongside the design. Thanks to the early involvement of the builders and manufacturers, technological exploration and innovation became integral to the design vision.

Wanting to avoid a static or gridlocked aesthetic, we adopted a shifting-panel strategy likened to industrial metal mesh. Mission Hall’s skin required a variety of aperture densities and relationships, but it couldn’t be too complex given budget constraints and the need to limit panel types. Given our overall budget goals, we knew we would need large, repeating panel shapes and that the lightness of GFRC would be the most practical way to get there.

Past experience at smaller scales had shown that a material as prosaic as GFRC could be transformed into a cost-effective yet poetic signature feature; however, we had not yet found a way to dematerialize its basic wall-like nature. At UCSF, we wanted to re-invent GFRC as a trabeated wall assembly (column and lintel), not as a masonry wall with punched openings. Our partners, Walters & Wolf, helped us achieve this with a window-box truss system incorporating metal spandrel panels, allowing us to imply a much more open mesh framework than a strictly budget-driven panel wall would have allowed.

Panelization requirements led to a long truss (32” x 30 ft), which accommodated all four curtain wall versions, and streamlined both fabrication and erection. Built off-site, these panels amounted to significant savings for the client. The solution creates interest along the facades while still allowing for flexible and myriad programmatic options within. Because the South and West sides of the building experience stronger sunlight, we tightened the apertures to reduce heat gain, while the North side opened up more to admit diffused light and provide views toward Downtown San Francisco.

How We Got There

Specific patterns, textures, and materials were sampled, developed, and tested in mock-up form to nurture and test our ideas both before and during the production process. Darker Precast Concrete at the building base level along with typical off-white GFRC wall material mockups are shown above.

GFRC pilasters were presented in smooth and wash-board-shadow, and the proportions of specific wall fragments and adjacent window voids were adjusted for solar exposure, spatial and technical reasons, as well as façade-making.

Well ahead of production, we were making careful studies of texture and scale, guided by practical input from the designated panel manufacturers, to confirm we had it right prior to mock-up and production. The resulting panels vary between smooth and wash-board texture to provide shadow, scale, and variability. The light color of the GRFC also provides a contrast to the darker concrete at the base level. The GRFC appears as though it is a framework floating above the darker glass and metal elements underneath, creating the building’s outer “mesh” expression.

Working within parameters of efficient glass size, pushing limits of texture and relief, we arrived at a highly animated open-weave expression, completely free of panelized punched-wall expression with a limited amount of actual panel variation. Compositionally, every effort was made to view simple things in complex ways, to produce more visual interest through proportion, offsets of panels, mirror-reversals local adjacencies, and interrelationship of basic elements. Our tools were limited, but by careful composition, the solution rejects the grid-locked and static pitfalls typical of GFRC panel walls.

Where We’re Coming From
A core tenet of our approach is to tease the poetry out of the practical: to find ways to make an office building (or even a parking garage) beautiful and simple; elegant and functional; practical yet fresh, while improving our everyday experiences. Even the most seemingly mundane materials can be reinterpreted and optimized to provide an articulate and coherent architectural expression. We see something like GFRC not so much as a “budget material” but as the lighter side of concrete.