The creative process of making an ecologically responsive home explores many considerations. Green building goes light years beyond conventional construction.

• Once you’ve reflected on what you really need in a home and are clear that you must build, do not build on untouched land. Consider renovations first, additions second and then infill lots.

• Build small and build local, both material sourcing and labor. Sustainability is all about building community, in many ways.

• Build a healthy, nontoxic home that nurtures you.

• Use available renewable energy sources whenever possible—solar, wind and/or biofuels are often viable options.

• Build a highly insulated and sealed home, which keeps out unwanted temperatures.

• Create regenerative landscaping, which implements stormwater management strategies, as a beautiful garden.

• And, and this is essential, build well, so our homes will endure for centuries.

Each of these notions needs to be balanced with an open-ended design, to fluidly respond to inevitable change.

Perhaps the harshest reality of our condition, building green is not going to turn the tide of environmental destruction, and all the concomitant issues that are happening. We need to stop consuming in significant ways, which go far beyond building less and/or greener when building.

The ‘not so big house’ movement has much to offer, but it assumes we’re basically consuming the same—a 2,000 square-foot-house isn’t, in the big picture, much greener than a 6,000 square-foot-home.

So please, before you consider building ask yourself this question: Must you build at all? Many existing homes simply need to be cracked open, to breathe internally and with the land. Rather than adding a new space, why not try a bay window in an existing room? Or put a new window in a room to expand the internal flow. Or repaint an existing space. Or remove a wall or two. Or...you get the picture.

Granted, that’s all a daunting challenge. If you must build, given the above complexities, you may want to consider a team of people with varied expertise and experience, usually with an architect as the manager. But everything is a step-by-step process and we all take on only what we can during each step.

Again, there is no such thing as pure green building; we all do what is possible and feasible given the spectrum of life’s choices and circumstances. Yet, if we have an ecological awareness and a deep desire to honor all things—even if we have to make compromises because of issues such as finances—we will build more viable and enlivening homes.

At a recent green building conference, the moderator of a breakout session asked what steps we can take to “build greener.” “Install solar panels.” “Superinsulate.” “Build with local materials.”

Appreciating those as important considerations, and with some trepidation, I raised my hand and said, “Don’t build.”

Granted, it seems odd for an architect who makes his living from building to recommend not building. But I went on to say that perhaps 80 percent of the projects we’ve done during the last 20 years didn’t “need” to happen. I told the gathering that when I meet with clients who want to build an addition on their home these days, I often end up talking them out of building an addition at all.

Instead, I encourage them to reconsider how they live in the space they already have.

The first act of building green is to live greener—sustainably and with an ecological awareness. To consider how we most innately live, think back to the way we lived as young children—everything appeared to us to be alive, asking to be engaged with, whether it had a heart or was found under a rock (or both!). The central act of living, that children naturally understand, is to deeply value all things and to seek to be a part of their wondrous, mysterious ways of being. This is “living” as an integral part of our local ecosystem. And it is at the heart of living green

Another central aspect of living green is to recognize life is a paradox and that there are always issues from both sides—the yin and yang of life—that need consideration. Balance is essential and we all make choices. This leads to a harsh reality—there is no
absolute “green” building, only shades of green.

We cannot build 100 percent green for a variety of reasons, which hinge on this—there are many aspects of green that need to be considered. Most simply, there is responsible material sourcing; using as little energy as possible, or even generating energy; building a healthy, nontoxic home that respects all hands involved in the building, including those at far-away factories and fields. These criteria are augmented by the mantras of “build small” and “build locally,” with both material sourcing and labor. It takes great diligence and careful analysis to meet all these criteria with every one of the hundreds of choices.

Like many people who build a home, we started with a budget that included a margin for predictable uncalculated overruns. As our project nears completion, we know we have exceeded that margin for error. Hopefully you can learn from our three overruns and do better at staying within your budget when building your green dream home.

1. Reclaimed wood has cost us a little more. 

Reclaimed barn oak cabinetry add warmth to the kitchen. Photo By Rebecca Selove.

We knew the reclaimed barn oak we’re using for our kitchen cabinets would cost more than wood from the lumber yard because there are extra steps involved in taking apart barns and sorting wood to take out that which is too damaged for reuse. Our conscientious cabinetmaker told us the wood, which he bought directly from the harvester, had to be dehydrated. He constructed a storage tent, where he stacked the wood with a dehumidifier. He also bought a meter for measuring the water in the wood, and waited almost three weeks to start construction of the cabinets until the wood was below 10 percent humidity. He graciously passed on only a portion of the extra cost to us, which we decided we could cover before we signed our contract with him and before we had many other unexpected expenses. 

2. Poplar paneling has cost us three times as much.

A skilled carpenter installed this poplar paneling. Photo By Rebecca Selove.

We expected to pay a bit more for poplar paneling (instead of drywall) reclaimed from a home that was going to be demolished, and we bought the wood before consulting with our builder about additional costs for having it installed. Nailing standard sizes of drywall to the frame takes about one-third the time as cutting and fitting poplar panels on the frame. We are happy to have reclaimed wood and think it looks wonderful, but hadn’t expected the cost of installation to be three times the cost of installing drywall. Sometimes decisions made quickly can snag a bargain, but this one involved making a decision without knowing all the costs. 

3. Energy-efficient windows take extra planning. 

Opening these windows is a big deal in function and a small deal on a blueprint. Photo By Rebecca Selove.

Our third over-run involved our energy-efficient windows, which are a significant cost and an important investment for us. We reduced our budget by changing the original design so that all windows in the house are standard sizes. Originally our bedroom was designed with a large fixed (non-opening) window beside a porch door that has a screen in it. We changed that window to a smaller one that would open (we thought). This wasn’t recorded on the blueprint, and when the window was installed we saw a non-opening window beside our bed. We decided to buy another window to replace it, and we hope to recoup 50 percent of the cost of the new one if the window manufacturer can sell the fixed one at a discount to someone else. Our mistake could be your bargain at the nearby window boneyard!

We recommend that you ask about additional expenses associated with using bargains that pop up. Also, go over your plans carefully to make sure what you want is in writing. 

Editor's Note: John Patrick, Rebecca Selove's husband, contributes to Rebecca's blog series.

Our home was built for solar power. Built on the hillside facing due south, this home was designed to collect solar energy in many ways.

The home faces south and allows for maximum sunshine. Drawing By Mark West.

The farmhouse's roof was pitched to allow full sun for passive solar heating in the upper and lower levels during the late fall, winter and early spring. Large windows on the south side allow sunlight in to warm the dark tiles and stained cement floors. In the late spring, summer and early fall, when keeping cool is a priority, that same pitched roof shades those windows and floors.

We also tilted the roof to match the middle Tennessee latitude for maximum solar exposure for our installed solar panels. A photovoltaic system is beginning to make more environmental and economic sense because it provides renewable energy for the home and will probably decrease our electric bill by 60 percent. Our 5.17-kilowatt array connects to the grid so that when we are collecting more solar energy than we are using, the excess energy goes on to the grid for use by others—probably by our neighbors. With incentives from the Tennessee Valley Authority, our excess energy will earn 12 cents more than the prevailing rate of approximately 9 cents per kilowatt. Currently, that means we’ll receive 21 cents for every excess kilowatt we produce.

Solar panels provide electricity to the home and solar thermal panels heat the home's water. Photo Courtesy John Patrick.

Tennessee Valley Authority values stable sources of renewable energy and guarantees this contract for 10 years. At this rate, the estimated payoff for our system will be 10-12 years. We think that in a carbon-restrained world with carbon taxes or a cap-and-trade system, those rates will increase and reduce that payoff time. 

Two solar thermal panels to provide our hot water. Feeding into an 80-gallon tank that will retain hot water for 36 hours, this system will potentially cut our hot water electricity usage in half, which for an average household, is the largest annual use of electricity. For those cloudy winter days when sunshine is at a minimum, an element within the tank will heat the water. The hot water system will get a boost from our geothermal heating and cooling system. That system takes advantage of the constant temperature of the earth to heat and cool our home, and in the summer it provides us free hot water by the use of its de-superheater option that uses the hot air to heat our water. In total, with the Tennessee Valley Authority payback, the de-superheater and the solar panels, we should have a payback period of 10-12 years—again, that is at today’s rates.

Although economics is integral to the ultimate wide-spread acceptance of solar power, shifting to renewable power is a move we are choosing to make to lessen the impacts of climate change. We hope our home can be an example of what is possible.

For our sustainable Tennessee home’s exterior, John and I planned to use a combination of Nichiha, a concrete siding made with recycled content, and native stone. Although a LEED rater (not ours) disapprovingly told me that quarries destroy habitat and leave gaping marks on the earth, I knew that most durable materials involve a mine or factory, and stone seemed to involve creating the least amount of toxic material. 

Shane Wattenbarger of Tennessee Stone Harvesting explains the names of different sizes of fieldstones. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

I searched for sources of stone near our home and settled on a combination of limestone from two quarries within 100 miles of our home. I made that decision a number of months ago, and when the time came to place the order, we learned that the salesman had left the company, and the unwritten agreement we had with him about the price of stone and stonemason services was not valid.

Jason, our project manager, looked around more and introduced me to the idea of fieldstone harvested from the surface of the earth. That led me to Shane at Tennessee Stone Harvesting.

When we talked on the phone, Shane told me that he was limited to selling me stones he had already harvested; the ground was wet from recent snows, and he didn’t want to cause run-off stream contamination.

Sandstone comes in many different colors. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

Last week I drove to the stone field about 70 miles away to learn about stone. Shane helped me pick five kinds of sandstone. We will get LEED credit for using material that comes from nearby, with no quarrying, and Shane’s considerate spirit will be part of our home.

The people who are helping us build our home are extraordinary. In addition to being very skilled in their specific roles, they support the spirit of our project, ask questions about other aspects of the construction and offer suggestions and resources to help us respond to the challenges we are encountering.

One of those challenges has been finding wood products that are acceptable to us. We wanted Forest Stewardship Council (FSC)-certified framing lumber. However, as I reported previously, we were not able to find a distributor of FSC-certified framing wood within 500 miles of our site. We decided we would be countering some of the benefits of FSC wood by hauling it from more than 1,500 miles away, so we chose Southern Forest Initiative-certified wood for the framing lumber of our home. 

These barn wood boards will be part of our new kitchen cabinets. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

We recently learned of a source within 500 miles for FSC-certified baseboards and window and door trim, but it will be eight weeks before those products are available to us, and we are in the final six weeks of our construction schedule. So, we are continuing our search for reclaimed and reused wood, which we have learned comes with its own challenges. For example, some old wood has to be dehumidifed before it can be milled and then treated for insect larvae before it is safe to take inside a home.

We'll buff the poplar paneling in the mud room soon. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

We have been very lucky to have Lanny Gunter working with us on our kitchen cabinets. His wife and daughter have also invested their time and hearts in our project. Wood has been a passion of Lanny’s since he was a young boy, and he enjoys finding ways to solve wood-related problems that require creative solutions. He’ll make our kitchen cabinets out of oak that came from a barn built more than 60 years ago, with nail holes and some signs of insect habitation as part of the wood’s charm. He and I looked at a number of pieces of this old wood so he could get a feel for my preferred range of nail hole sizes. I’ve welcomed his suggestion for a modernized Shaker-style cabinet door, with finely crafted drawers that can be pulled all the way out. He found a place for narrow shelving for bottles of spices inside a door, where for the first time in my life I will be able to see all the small containers at once.  

When I talked to Lanny about our search for baseboard and trim, he said his son might be willing to mill reclaimed wood for these other purposes. I imagine Lanny persuading his son to participate in this collaborative demonstration of sustainable construction in middle Tennessee, and I feel grateful.

I first heard about LEED certification years ago from my husband, John, who works for the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and sends lots of environmental information my way. Most Natural Home readers know that LEED certification was developed by the nonprofit U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC). Levels of certification reflect the number of points earned for building a home using methods and materials that increase its energy efficiency and decrease its use of natural resources and toxic materials. The guidelines describe many ways homebuilders can earn points, such as careful planning and management of construction, using environmentally preferable products and protecting indoor environmental quality. The total number earned determines if a home is LEED certified (45-49), Silver (60-74), Gold (75-89), or Platinum (90-136).

When John and I started talking about building a home, we knew we would aim for the highest LEED level. We wanted to co-create our home with our architect and builder, united by the LEED checklist as we made decisions about the house’s structure, building process and materials. That way we’d know we are doing the best we can to minimize our impact within our budget and square footage parameters. We’d have third party verification and documentation that the construction process is optimal for our health, and the health of our organic farm, as we build a durable and efficient house.     

We encountered challenges such as local zoning regulations that do not allow use of graywater recycling or composting toilets. We discovered that Forest Stewardship Council-certified wood is not available locally and would have to be shipped from the Northwest (so we’re not using it). We have a creative team that is aiming high with us and expertly completing the extra documentation and work that is required for LEED certification. 

I was surprised by the thickness of the LEED guidebook members of our team brought to the table, and by some discussions, such as the reasons concrete siding is valued over local quarried stone (we’re using some of both). Our rural farmhouse is not on a previously developed site and won’t be accessible to mass transit, so we can’t earn those points.  

We have signs posted to educate our workers about our vision. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

Visitors won’t see the wider spacing of wall studs that reduce the amount of wood use for framing, or the spray-foam insulation that is super-effective. They might not notice quiet and efficient Panasonic Green Whisper light/fans in the bathrooms. They won’t know that materials from construction are recycled (at no extra cost to our builders) or that Jason, our project manager, posted signs to educate workers about our geothermal system, rainwater harvesting and passive solar floor. They will see very efficient mats to clean their shoes at the doorways and places to store them inside entryways to protect interior air quality  

A worker sprays in foam insulation. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

We installed this great Panasonic Green Whisper light/fan. Photo By Rebecca Selove.

Our Independent Green Rater Carl Seville recently conducted the pre-drywall inspection, scrutinizing the insulation, joints in geothermal ducts and places where wires and hoses penetrate the shell of the house. He confirmed that we are on track for LEED Platinum certification.

The only kitchen appliance we brought from our old home is the microwave oven. We’d hoped to find someone in a department store who was knowledgeable and motivated to put together an energy-efficient appliance package with a price tag we liked. We found that while some salespeople knew where to look for the yellow Energy Guide tags that list the kilowatt hours used by an appliance in a year, most wanted to focus on which was the least expensive or the “most popular” version of something, such as refrigerators with French doors. 

We found helpful information on the Internet about the Energy Star rating program the EPA implemented in 1992. The Energy Star program encourages manufacturers to voluntarily create appliances with reduced water and energy use, and now consumers like us can compare appliances on these factors. In addition to energy efficiency, we had to consider the way our architect designed our kitchen, our budget and what was available in local stores. My husband also checked out consumer ratings of appliances, which, combined with Energy Star ratings, helped us generate a list of our top choices.

My new kitchen is coming together. We're getting the wiring together and making progress. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

Through our builders we met Matt at the local Cenwood Appliance store. He was savvy about energy efficiency and taught us more about cooktops than I knew existed. I’ve never lived where a cooktop was separate from the oven. I learned about fixed and telescopic downdrafts and induction cook tops (not worth their cost to us). I also learned that energy efficiency in a cooktop is due in part to a good match in size of the burner and size of the bottom of the pan it heats. I came home and measured the bottoms of my favorite pans and learned that the largest are 9 inches in diameter. This meant we didn’t want a cook top with a 12-inch burner. 

We left our first meeting with Matt feeling pretty good about our decisions, but with a question still on the table about the oven. I had used a convection oven in a cohousing comunity where we used to live, and appreciated its ability to help me get dinner ready on time even when I started late. The Energy Star convection oven cost about $200 more than a standard oven, and from the American Council on Energy Efficiency, a nonprofit organization that provides education and advocacy related to energy efficiency, I learned that the convection oven is generally 20 percent more efficient than the conventional oven. We settled on a GE Profile 30-inch downdraft electric cook top and a GE 30-inch single oven with convection.

I'm looking forward to cooking in the completed kitchen.

Our home is a rainwater harvesting tool. The roof was designed to capture 1200 gallons of water each time it rains an inch. The LEED rating system gives us four points for doing this, which is a pretty big pat on the back for reducing our dependence on the municipal water system. Our county’s building codes do not allow us to use that valuable rainwater for washing clothes or flushing our toilet, which we wanted to do. It will go to good use, nonetheless, for irrigating vegetables and blueberry bushes, and for hydrating a few cows and maybe some sheep.  

What type of rain barrel should accompany the new home? Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

We don’t yet know where we will store the water. We’d hoped to find a bargain of a water tank a little town had outgrown, maybe a quaint round metal tower surrounded beautiful wood.  That hasn’t happened yet, so we are looking at polyurethane, concrete and metal cisterns, either above or below ground.

I believe that rainwater harvesting is good, and I also think that most cisterns are not very attractive. I think that we will use more resources if we dig a hole in the ground big enough to hold a 1700-gallon tank, which is what we have been told is our minimum, rather than plopping a 5 foot high green plastic tub beside our screened porch. As with many aspects of building a sustainable home, our decisions are affected by facts and our feelings.

We have gotten information about local contractors from our friend Gwen Griffith, Program Director of the Cumberland River Compact, and from Ronnie Barron, our local County Extension Agent. He has also provided some useful facts, such as these:  

• It takes approximately 27,000 gallons of water to supply 1 inch of irrigation to 1 acre. Most commercial vegetable growers try to supply at least 1 inch per acre per seven to 10 days. 

• Growing calves will consume about 5-15 gallons of water per day (depending on their size).
 
In evaluating our options, we are asking where and how the cistern is made, how durable will it be and what impact installation will have in the short- and long-term. Whether we bury it on a gravel bed or stand it above ground on a concrete pad, we’ll be using heavy equipment and hauling resources from off-site. It seems to me that over and over again we put our values on either side of a giant scale, weigh our options, and hope our final decision satisfies us for a long, long time.
 
I wonder how the facts will affect my perception of what is attractive.

Salvaging: Saving anything from destruction of danger 

I search salvage yards for interesting pieces for our new home, a sustainable farmhouse in Tennessee that we are building to reach LEED Platinum certification. My husband and I save money by reusing salvaged materials, and we appreciate the character of products created in earlier eras.

Our green home builders share our concern for the environment, appreciation for classic building materials and our thriftiness. Jason, our project manager, introduced me to Jane, who “knows the best flea markets and thrift stores in Nashville.” At the local Habitat Home Store, where I appointed her “door guru,” Jane helped me distinguish between plastic, steel, hollow and solid wood doors.

A grand 7-foot solid wood door caught my attention. I asked the salesperson about it, and he said it was probably more than 60 years old.

“We’re so tired of looking at it we’ll sell it for half-price,” he said.

Sold.

For $10 we got a great “new” front door, saved it from landfill and made a small donation to Habitat for Humanity.

We plan to liven up this stunning salvaged, reclaimed poplar door. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

Our project manager Jason secured our next salvaged steal. He found a new bathtub for us that cost about 10 percent of what we would have paid for a brand new bathtub.

Ryan, another member of our building team, offered us wood paneling he had salvaged from a house on the verge of demolition. We calculated that it cost only slightly more than the sheet rock we planned to use in our mudroom; we quickly accepted it. Both the paneling and our front door are poplar, a wood often used in old homes in the southern United States. In addition to liking the look of poplar, we like thinking the wood required minimal petroleum to get to our home.

These salvaged, reclaimed poplar panels will find new life in our home. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

Sometimes salvage wins beautifully.

My husband John and I both grew up on farms, and for many years we’d planned to retire to a country home with room for vegetables and fruit trees. A few years before we expected to do that, my husband’s son Eric announced he wanted to leave his career as a corporate accountant so that he and his wife Audrey could develop a commercial organic vegetable farm. My husband said “Would you like a partner?” and that was the beginning of our search for a farm where we could all live.

My team of builders and I discuss plans for the sustainable farmhouse. Photo Courtesy Rebecca Selove.

In 18 months we located what we have decided is the perfect spot. Eric’s soil test results were encouraging, and beautiful creeks border the property on two sides along with a spring he could use for irrigation. There was a house which is now home to Eric, Audrey, and their two young boys, and enough road frontage that we would be allowed to construct a second home on the property. This past spring Eric obtained organic certification and officially launched Foggy Hollow Farm (read Eric’s blog) at Nashville-area farmers’ markets and restaurants.

From the start John and I planned to use LEED guidelines for Platinum certification, even before knowing all the details. We looked at library books on green architecture and perused the articles and ads in Natural Home. We found an architect on the Internet by using search terms like “green” and “sustainable” which led us to Mark West, who gives lectures in Middle Tennessee about LEED certification. We gave him our wish list—solar panels, geothermal heating and air conditioning, passive solar heating and ventilation, and rainwater harvesting capability. We’d hoped for composting toilets, gray-water recycling and bricks made from soil excavated for the house, but these dropped off our list as we learned about local building restrictions and the fact that no one in the area had experience making earth bricks. 

We were startled when we saw Mark’s drawings for a modern-looking home with a butterfly roof, but accepted his assertion that it was the best way to integrate the details we considered essential for a sustainable farmhouse. It is on the south side of a hill for optimal solar energy generation, has two mudrooms, a root cellar and a modest footprint (1764 square feet). 

Check out a better view of the landscape. Photo By Rebecca Selove.

We experienced angst in cutting a road up to our home site, and digging up what was a wildflower-filled meadow last summer. We’ll return native plants to the landscape, along with green beans for market. We take comfort in thinking about the solar energy we will put into the grid, and the rainwater we’ll use to irrigate a field once we figure out what kind of container can store it. We are thinking about what goes into this house from the “green concrete” in the foundation to the recycled steel in the roof. We hope we are balancing what we are taking with what we are leaving.

Being a big nerd, I always thought libraries were one of the coolest places in the world. Now, thanks to some impressive new designs, other people are beginning to think so too. Rem Koolhaas’s Seattle Public Library is a giant ramp encased in glass. The Arabian Library in Scottsdale, Arizona, earned a LEED Silver rating and the 2008 Smart Environments Award, while the Clinton Library in Little Rock, Arkansas, earned a much-coveted LEED Platinum rating.

But it is the proposed Bibliosphere at the University of Duisburg-Essen in Germany that tops them all. Combining a quirky modern form with green design, this “Death Star” library will act as a unique landmark for the city. (With its modern spherical shape and large size, the building has been said to jokingly resemble the Death Star battle ship from Star Wars). Architecture firm Greeen! designed Bibliosphere for an international competition (although the firm did not win—architectural firm KSP Engel and Zimmermann took that honor with a glass cube design).

Bibliosphere will act as a huge landmark for Essen, Germany. Photo Courtesy Inhabitat.

This giant sphere is both a new library and office building and was designed to create a place where the city of Essen and the University could come together. The façade of the sphere is oriented toward the city. The library’s reading rooms will use natural ventilation and lighting as well as solar protection films on the glass to save energy. The transparent nature of the library from the glass shell will provide views of the city and a healthy working environment.

The Bibliosphere will use renewable energy resources and is expected to cut energy consumption by more than 50 percent of what German standards require. Bibliosphere architects are aiming for gold certification from the German Sustainable Building Council, a member of the World Green Building Council.

This rendering shows how Bibliosphere will look at night. Photo Courtesy Inhabitat.

The architects at Greeen! have 10 years of environmental design experience. This European firm believes that environmental architecture needs to provide not only energy-saving benefits, but also needs to create comfortable human spaces. Greeen! designs, such as the Bibliosphere, are based on seven basic principles: interdisciplinarity; human-scale; spaces for living; sustainable architecture; ecological design; energy-solving building concepts; and reasonable solutions. With all these considerations in mind, it’s no wonder people are getting excited over the Bibliosphere.

At once a glorious success and also a failure, the Beddington Zero-Energy Development in London (known as BedZed) has helped transform ideas and pioneer the way for sustainable architecture.

Located in the London borough of Sutton, BedZed was designed to be a carbon-neutral community with sustainable housing on a multi-unit scale. BedZed would have ample green spaces and gardens, recycling facilities, water and energy-saving features, and a green transportation plan.

Beddington Zero-Energy Development in Sutton, England. Photo Courtesy Bioregional Development Group.

BedZed was designed by architect Bill Dunster for the partnership of the Bioregional Development group, the Peabody Trust, Arup, and Gardiner and Theobald. Built between 2000 and 2002, BedZed was short-listed in 2003 for the Stirling Prize, which is awarded to the building with the most significant impact on evolution in architecture in the past year.

One of the things that makes BedZed so unique is the magnitude of its plan. Instead of creating a sustainable home, BedZed sought to make a sustainable community comprised of 82 houses, 17 apartments and 1,405 square meters of workspace.

In order to achieve its goals of carbon neutrality, BedZed incorporated a plethora of green technologies and lifestyle changes. BedZed was built from natural, recycled and reclaimed materials (found locally whenever possible) to keep its carbon footprint low. Roof top gardens and standard gardens provide places for residents to grow their own food. Waste-water recycling and low-flow appliances help conserve water. Super-insulated homes retain heat, and a centralized Combined Heat and Power plant (CHP) reduces the energy needed to warm the homes. The houses embrace passive solar energy with south-facing terraces for maximum sunlight and heat gain while offices, which often use air conditioning to counter overheating, stay cooler on the north side of the building. The home ventilation system uses wind cowls to let in air while preventing heat loss in winter.

Lifestyle changes as well as architecture are also a part of BedZed’s environmental strategy. The community encourages people buy local, organic food or grow their own in the community gardens. Easy-to-use, home recycling bins cuts down on waste. BedZed promotes pedestrian walkways and cycling, and bus and train stops are within walking distance of the community. Carpools and a car club cut down on personal car use.

BedZed village square. Photo Courtesy Bioregional Development Group.

All in all, BedZed should have been the perfect green utopia. Unfortunately, many parts of the project failed when put into practical application. One of BedZed’s major hindrances is the expense of going green. The CHP and waste-water system were new technology and needed replacements and modifications over time—ones that the housing community simply could not afford. While CHP systems have worked elsewhere, at BedZed it was too unreliable, and could not supply the needs of the tenants. Other facets of the architecture, such as the wind cowls, were effective, yet more expensive than they were actually worth. BedZed was not able to meet its overly ambitious goals of being a carbon-neutral community.

Despite its faults, BedZed can hardly be considered an unmitigated failures. An evaluation by Bioregional in 2009 showed that the homes used 45 percent less electricity than the average home in Sutton. BedZed homes used 81 percent less gas to heat and less than half the water used by locals in Sutton. Eighty-six percent of BedZed residents said they bought organic food, while 39 percent even tried to grow some of their own food in the gardens.

While BedZed wasn’t the perfect green utopia, the companies involved in its creation have learned from their mistakes and have continued to move forward with new sustainable buildings and communities. We need more BedZeds as we continue to move forward toward a greener future.

Hollywood is going green. On June 6, filmmaker Chris Paine (“Who Killed the Electric Car”) had a big debut. However, this time it wasn’t a film he was showing, but his newly remodeled, sustainable house. Dubbed the Marrakesh House because of its Moroccan design, this home blends green design with artistic whimsy.

The atrium of the Marrakesh House. Photo Courtesy  Marrakesh House.   

The house was originally a 4,300 square foot home from the 1950s, but Paine has worked with a design team lead by project manager Shellie Collier, a LEED-accredited professional, to create a modern, green demonstration home. The idea for the Moroccan theme came from the positioning of the original structure around a central courtyard, mirroring the form of traditional riads. Throughout the house, Islamic design motifs blend with modern architecture to create a look that is truly unique. 

Paine and Collier used a variety of techniques to make the Marrakesh House as sustainable as possible. By reusing materials from the original house they were able to eliminate 75 percent of the waste that usually accompanies a remodel. Outside, the plants in the garden need little water. Many are native to southern California and the rest are edible. The retaining walls around the property were all made from construction waste materials claimed from other sites in the area. 

Chris Paine and the solar panels on the house. Photo Courtesy  Marrakesh House.  

Solar panels heat water, providing enough for four people. The photovoltaic solar system on the roof also provides about 60 percent of the house’s electricity. Inside, high-efficiency lighting such as CFL and LED bulbs in conjunction with dimmers and motion sensors cut down a startlingly large percentage of energy use. 

Marrakesh House also makes use of sustainable materials to lessen its impact on the environment. All of the wood in the house is Forest Stewardship Council-certified. The stone floors are not only natural but will last for thousands of years. All of the cabinets in the house are created from formaldehyde-free bamboo. 

Other touches such as low-flow toilets and faucets, no-VOC paint and the three electrical vehicle charging stations in the garage add to the sustainability of the house. But this house isn’t only about appearing high-tech. A collaboration of artists and designers have helped Paine prove that green living can be whimsically fun. The Marrakesh House doubles not only as a private residence, but also as an art, music and culture venue. 

A green home with decided personality, the Marrakesh House certainly is a new breed of sustainable building.