Solar Games, Market Gains

Cleaving to nature, these solar houses felt abundant and full of pleasure.

by Bruce Schimmel

It was like visiting Tomorrowland — including the long lines — except this was for real.

The lines were long, but the conversation was electric last week, as tens of thousands crowded into 20 solar homes on Washington's National Mall. Built for the 2007 Solar Decathlon competition (www.solardecathlon.org), these solar-powered houses were designed to generate more electricity than they consumed.

The green housing market heated up a few degrees, as one tall young woman, surveying the crowd, declared, "It's sexy, it's exciting."

Across from the Smithsonian, teams of undergrads clambered over the homes they'd worked on for two years. As a decathlon, the teams competed on 10 aesthetic and technical standards, based on everyday tasks.

Using only solar power — in real time or accumulated in batteries — students had to wash and dry bundles of towels, run computers around the clock, provide light, heat and air conditioning, take showers, keep food cold, cook meals — and then run an electric car as far as possible on whatever extra energy they could create.

Airy, open and light, most houses featured handcrafted furniture and cabinets made of upcycled and mostly local wood, glass and stone. The 850 square-foot competition bungalows were built for two. But most were scalable, and by any measure, all were luxurious — featuring wide decks that opened onto expansive gardens.

Almost all dripped vegetation from roofs and walls, and some seemed even to operate like a living plant. Fitted with moveable slats, slideable doors and rows of skylights, their louvers and shingles opened and closed as they tracked the sun. Attuned to nature, they breathed with the weather.

Affordable, portable — and generating its own electricity — you might plunk one of these in the woods, dig a well, watch it come alive. With production prices for some estimated just north of a hundred grand, I wanted one, though almost all of these homes had been spoken for.

In a field of 20 that included the University of Texas at Austin, Santa Clara, M.I.T. and Cornell, this year's winner, from Germany, knocked off two-time victor University of Colorado. Local contenders — newcomer Penn State and the University of Maryland — placed fourth and second respectively.

The Penn State entry, called the Morning Star, was sheathed in native black slate, mixed with the solar panel shingles. A moveable interior wall, made of old half-gallon glass milk jugs, provided light and light, heat or cooling as needed. Hardwood finishes included a handmade dining room table made from an elm that had fallen on campus.

Penn State team has built a similar house in chilly Montana, substituting walls made of straw bales instead of slate shingles.

The University of Maryland entry was called "LEAFHouse," and the name was a metaphor for its design. Like a leaf, the house cantilevers out from a central spine, with a polycarbonate ridge skylight running its length.

In its living room, where a fireplace might be, is a "waterfall" of liquid desiccant that helps keep the house dry in the summer. Plants fill the outside south wall, and were fed automatically with grey water and roof runoff. Even on the Mall, I saw butterflies, bees and birds settling into the grassy gardens built into its deck.

Maryland's LEAFHouse can be adapted for urban and townhouse living, and like other competitors, is expandable.

For all their efficiency, by cleaving to nature, these houses felt abundant and full of pleasure. Standing inside, as they gently respond to sun and wind, you felt connected to nature — because, in fact, you were.

(bruce@schimmel.com)