SAN FRANCISCO — The new 18-story federal building here, designed by Thom Mayne and the Santa Monica firm Morphosis, is hardly short on symbolism or story lines.
It is a hulking, aggressive tower in the heart of a city that has seemed wary of bold architectural statements in recent decades. And it is perhaps the most ambitious of the federal government's effort, through the General Services Administration's "design excellence" program, to make new courthouses and office buildings models of forward-looking design.
But the tower is most fascinating, by far, as a measuring stick for green architecture. It shows what happens when a celebrated American architect is compelled -- by his client, by the younger designers in his own office and, maybe, by his conscience -- to embrace sustainability. And it dramatizes a clash between the prerogatives of architectural creativity and the basics of sustainable design -- a clash that promises to be repeated as other architects of Mayne's generation and sensibility begin to build in a more efficient way.
The new focus at Morphosis on green design "is a giant leap forward for us," Mayne said during a recent tour of the $144-million building. And in a lecture at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art last month, he declared that the federal building represents "where the architectural act and the ethical act are fused."
A more accurate word, to be honest, would have been "feuding." The building, with its natural ventilation and loft-like, sun-filled offices, includes a long list of green elements to go with some architecturally stunning spaces, notably a lobby that slices upward through the lower floors. But for every architectural decision that makes the building greener, there is another that seems to undercut that goal.
In fact, architects at Morphosis say it probably won't qualify even for a silver rating -- let alone gold or platinum -- from the U.S. Green Building Council, a benchmark that the GSA aims to meet or exceed in high-profile new construction. The firm blames that failure on a rating system that is out of date and inadequate for judging buildings as big as this one, which covers 605,000 square feet. But part of the problem surely lies in Mayne's reluctance to temper his elaborate, highly wrought approach to architectural form-making.