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Previous attempts to electrify Navajo reservation homes met with spotty success. Many of these homes still have pollution-producing diesel generators that require fuel and maintenance, which can be problematic for homes located 100 miles or more from the nearest town or trading post. Others are attached to stalled or damaged solar units that are vestiges of previous federally funded solar electrification programs on the reservation.

For Earth Day 2000, Kiss + Cathcart constructed a small solar-powered demonstration house (above) in Battery Park City, in Manhattan. They also installed solar panels on the top seven floors of the south and east facades of the Condé Nast building (1998; below), in Times Square.
Photos: Courtesy Kiss + Cathcart Architects
"One of the houses where we installed a photovoltaic unit was hooked up to a block of panels that had stopped working years ago," says David Silversmith, project manager at the NAPV office in Dilkon, Arizona. Silversmith and his workers, all Navajo, have installed photovoltaic units in 20 Navajo homes. The work and materials in this initial stage were funded by a grant from the Department of Energy. "Some contractor from either Phoenix or Albuquerque set it up, then left and never came back to check on it. When the wires corroded or the battery failed, the people in this home couldn't call anybody because they didn't have a phone."

Constructed out of photovoltaic panels and recycled utility poles, the individual units generate one kilowatt of current--enough to power lights, telephone, a small television, and a refrigerator. Test families, many of them elderly couples, pay $50 per month for ten years toward the purchase of the units. At the end of the contract they own the solar unit. The monthly fee also includes regular maintenance, which is performed, along with construction, installation, and bill collecting, by Navajo working for NAPV. "We were warned that some people wouldn't pay," Kiss recalls. "That we would have to repossess the systems. For that reason we knew it was essential to work exclusively with local people."

The idea of sustainable solar energy resonates with most native peoples, whose religions often emphasize harmony with--and not dominance over--the Earth. The Sun is also a primary actor in Navajo mythology: in the creation story, the Sun's wife and twin sons save its people from destruction. NAPV's nonpolluting units are less offensive to Navajo land and sensibilities than the power lines from coal-fired plants that crisscross and scar the striking desert landscape. Structured like a simple pavilion, or Spanish ramada, they also serve as a shelter from the sun. "They look like pieces of sculpture," Silversmith says. "Other systems I've seen out here are built on concrete slabs with metal frames and a chain-link fence around them. NAPV respects the landscape and the lifestyles of our people. In one of our families, the woman, a weaver, has moved her loom beneath the ramada to take advantage of the shade. Another family parks its car beneath it. You can't imagine how valuable shade is in the desert."

The firm's 1997 design (right) for HEW, Hamburg's electric utility company, called for a renovation of the existing facade through the addition of a photovoltaic glass skin that pulls away from the bottom of the building to create a sidewalk canopy (left).
Photos: Courtesy Kiss + Cathcart Architects
With the first phase of the NAPV project completed--and the initial Department of Energy grant spent--Kiss is drafting two business plans to continue electrifying Navajo homes. The first plan involves additional grants and would function as phase one did, in blocks of 20 or 30 systems. The second plan would enlist a down payment of $1,000-2,000 from 20,000 possible Navajo subscribers and ten years of $150 monthly payments--from people whose average annual income is $6,000. If there are enough subscribers, the plan could finance not only the individual ramadas but also the construction of a solar-panel factory on reservation land employing Navajo, 50 percent of whom are currently without work. "I know I could make this work, with or without the grants," Kiss says. "And what better location for a solar-panel factory than a sunlit desert with a natural market for this technology?"

The Fairfield Photovoltaic Manufacturing Facility (1993; above), which is the largest solar-panel manufacturer in the United States, features photovoltaic glass cladding, entrance-canopy panels, and skylights (below) that produce all the energy necessary to light and air-condition the control room and offices.
Photos: Courtesy Kiss + Cathcart Architects
Although it might have been predicted that the Arizona desert would prove more receptive to sun-powered technology than the once Indian-inhabited island of Manhattan, it is ironic that the Navajo tradesmen were usually able to get their solar units working within two days, whereas the six-floor photovoltaic solar array Kiss + Cathcart designed for the Condé Nast building lay dormant for nearly a year after it was installed before it too was producing electricity. "A part of this was a sort of benign neglect," Kiss admits. "But a part was a conscious decision I'd made. We were consultants on the project. We did our part, and then went on to other things. I wanted to see if after our efforts the builder could take care of the installation on his own. It fell through the cracks, though, and in the end I saw I'd have to take care of it."

Sustainable architecture--including the building-integrated photovoltaics that are Kiss + Cathcart's specialty--is more broadly accepted today than even a decade ago. The partnership receives increasingly frequent invitations to consult from some of the largest architectural and industrial firms in the country. But for every successful photovoltaic project included in Kiss + Cathcart's PowerPoint presentation, there are at least two equally ambitious and original designs that will never see construction. One of these is the HEW center, in Hamburg, a project that took first prize in the 1996 American Institute of Architects Building-Integrated PV Competition, as well as top honors in the 1996-97 Photovoltaics in Buildings competition, sponsored by Germany's federal Ministry for Education, Science, and Technology and the German Association of Architects. The project, Kiss claims, fell victim to political infighting following the election of Gerhard Schroeder as German chancellor, in September 1998. Another notable casualty was the competition for a large solar roof for a parking structure in upstate New York that the firm won in 1992. Bringing solar power into mainstream construction appears to be a bit more problematic for Kiss + Cathcart than lighting up the rez.

"I'm glad our specific expertise is getting us a lot of work," exclaims Kiss, ducking into the rooftop tower and heading down the stairs toward his firm's offices. "But what I would really like is for this technology to be treated like any other building material--and to see the day when any architecture that isn't sustainable will simply be considered bad architecture. What I would really like is for our job to become obsolete."


 

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