Bateson State Office Building

Sustainabilities: Eco-oriented | Utopian

Part III: A Technical Critique

How are we to evaluate the Bateson Building critically? There are at least two, linked modes of critique we can bring to bear, one technical, the other ideological. The first I address here; the second in a keyword entry on ecological design.

Technically, Britain’s Architectural Review noted in 2013, “in sustainable design circles there has been a vague awareness that its various energy-saving systems were not used for long, although it was unclear why.” Many buildings exhibit technical shortfalls post-occupancy, and the Bateson Building’s innovations set it up for more possible technical shortfalls than the average office building. The louvers no longer work automatically, so the building requires more lighting, heating and cooling energy than expected, especially under the duress of improved environmental health standards since the 1970s: the fresh-air ventilation stipulation has risen from five cubic feet per minute per occupant to fifteen cubic feet per minute under current code. Much worse for the building’s original program, the state deactivated the rock-bed system following a class-action lawsuit filed in 1981 on behalf of State employees worried about the potential for mold infestation. In fact no infections could be attributed to the rock bed design, yet Van der Ryn later conceded that the rock bed “was a bad idea. We weren’t aware of mold issues back then.” The solar water-heating system was removed mainly because of roof load, and the atrium socks were disconnected on the basis that there was too little air stratification to merit their use. The building now runs off the same grid of steam and chilled-water services as other government buildings in the area. In effect, most of the building’s innovative technologies are now moribund and appear somewhat symbolic, “legible signs of the designer’s concerns vis-à-vis systems and ‘energy flows’,” as the Architectural Review puts it, “the canvas tubes in the atrium drawing immediate attention to an element which has undeniable sculptural qualities and at the same time raises an immediate question as to their function.”

Critics were thus able “to rather unfairly dismiss the building’s energy reduction ideas outright, even though they had not been given an adequate chance to prove their viability.” Nevertheless, the New York Times quotes a spokesman for the state’s department of general services as saying that “the building … remains among the state’s most energy efficient, comparable to those built in the last 5 to 10 years.” A recent report on the building commissioned by the state even recommends the reinstallation of the rock-bed system, with some modifications, and the state has “concluded that the Bateson Building can be repaired, retrofitted and brought into compliance with current codes together with [Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design] LEED Silver or Gold certification for existing buildings at 20 per cent of replacement cost.” Van der Ryn, though, might see the pursuit of today’s LEED standards as something of a retreat from his vanguard role with the state: “We reduced energy consumption by 40% from what was then the standard,” he recently told Columbia University’s Jeffrey Inaba. “If you talk about LEED platinum and all this crap—we were doing it forty-five years ago!” And as the New York Times concedes, “Since that time, of course, much of the culture has caught up to Mr. Van der Ryn. Currently, 29 cities and 13 states require buildings to adhere to...LEED, green building ratings, for new construction of public buildings.” The newspaper goes on to quote William McDonough, arguably the highest-profile green architect currently practicing, who says he was inspired as a young designer by the alternative technologies Van der Ryn developed in California. Whereas many contemporary architects, McDonough claims, are embracing ecological design by “designing with checklists,” Van de Ryn “comes at it from a deep-rooted place.”

– Simon Sadler