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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.
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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.
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Photos: Courtesy Kiss + Cathcart Architects
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"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."
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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
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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?"
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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.
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Photos: Courtesy Kiss + Cathcart Architects
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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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