15 Eylül 2011 Perşembe

Materials in Design

In this chapter we begin to look more directly at the use of new nanomaterials and nanotechnologies in design. There are already many applications of nanomaterials in design, and more are expected soon. We look at these topics from the perspective of designers and within the larger cultural-socioeconomic
context in which designers operate.Making effective design application use of new scientific findings that seemingly appear every day within the nanomaterial field is not as easy as might first appear. History is replete with examples of seemingly fabulous scientific discoveries that surely seemed to the discoverers to have huge potential applications in many areas, only to have them lie idle for many years or not be developed at all. Reams of studies in fields such as technology transfer have looked into why this is so. Reasons vary widely but are rarely of any surprise to individuals working in a real-world development context. Design ideas may often be simply naïve, or design objectives can be confused or unclear. Target markets or user audiences may be undefined or unclear, nonexistent, or simply not large enough to be of commercial interest. Other existing products may already accomplish similar desired ends better or in a more costeffective way than the proposed product. Proposed products may never have been benchmarked against existing products. There
might not be adequate test results to convince anyone of the efficacy of the product. Actual manufacturing processes for converting a science-based finding into implemental technology suitable for use in a commercial environment may either not be actually feasible or be cost-prohibitive (or not yet explored enough to know).
There may be legal or institutional barriers that would prevent active consideration of a new product or cause an interested developer to think twice before proceeding. There can be user resistance from sources that should have perhaps been anticipated but perhaps were not (e.g., environmental health hazards in using new
materials) or come from sources that simply could not have been easily anticipated a priori. The list can go on and on. In thinking about how we might use nanomaterials in design, it is useful to step back considerably and not define the issue simply as a technology-transfer problem—a self-limiting approach—but rather to think about it first in more fundamental terms. What is the role of materials in design? How do material properties influence the shape or form of objects and environments? What are we trying to do when we are using a specific material? On what basis do we compare nanomaterials to other high-performance materials?
Do we really expect new products to be made of just nanomaterials, or if not, what specific role do we expect them to play? In what kind of product or building system might they be best
used? What can we hope to accomplish? The first of these questions is by no means new. Questions surrounding the way an artifact or environment has been conceived, how it was made, and the materials of which it has been made have been a particular preoccupation of designers, engineers, and builders for ages. An understanding of the potential benefits and limitations of various materials is clearly evident in early works of art, architecture, and engineering . Examples abound. Medieval builders, for example, are often said to have clearly understood the properties of stone, and they used this knowledge to help shape the arches and vaults of history’s great Romanesque and Gothic cathedrals. But what is exactly meant here by this kind of reference? Is it that the knowledge of certain properties of stone— that it is quite strong when carrying forces that cause compression within it and relatively weak when subjected to forces that cause tension to develop—somehow led directly to the creation of these complex cathedrals as we now see them? Clearly this direct line of thinking—a form of technical determinism—is highly suspect in this example, to say the very least. We do know that the use of arches and vaults, which we now know to naturally carry internal forces by
a compression action, has been known since antiquity to be a good way of spanning large spaces with stone and would sensibly have been used by Medieval builders, and that this knowledge was clearly fundamental in the development of history’s great cathedrals, but it was obviously only one of many contributing factors in a landscape of complex reasons that range from the symbolic to the societal and cultural. We thus need to keep in mind that the nature of our world of designed objects and environments is not dictated by a consideration
of the technical properties of a material alone, no matter how fascinating they might be; but it is equally important to acknowledge their fundamental role—we know that the introduction of new materials with improved technical properties has also led to innovative new designs . From the point of view of this book, the best approach to understanding the use of materials in design remains through an examination of the benefits and limitations associated with the specific properties of materials. For this initial discussion, material attributes can be very broadly thought of in terms of their technical properties that stem from the intrinsic characteristics of the material itself (its density and its mechanical, thermal, optical, and chemical properties); their perceptual qualities that stem from our senses (sight, touch, hearing, taste, smell); and those culturally dependent qualities that fundamentally stem from the way our society or culture views materials. The intrinsic characteristics of materials are dependent primarily on the fundamental atomic structure of the materials and are discussed extensively in Chapter 4. Typical technical properties include failure strengths, elastic moduli values that relate deformations to stress levels, electrical conductivities, thermal conductivities, and a host of other measures related to the mechanical, optical, thermal, and chemical qualities of materials . Clearly, these kinds of properties are of fundamental importance to an engineering perspective on the use of materials in the context of designing products or buildings, and we can expect that work in the nanomaterials field can lead to dramatic improvements in these kinds of properties. At the moment, the important point here is simply that they intrinsically result from a material’s internal structure and are not dependent on any kind of societal or cultural view of the material. The perceptual qualities of a material relate to the way humans perceive them in terms of our basic senses. Visual qualities stem from a combination of specific characteristics such as transparency, translucency, opaqueness, reflectivity, and the texture of the surface (which in turn produces glossy, matte, or other appearances). Tactile qualities related to the sense of touch stem the texture of the surface—whether it is rough or smooth, its relative hardness or softness, and the feeling of warmth or coldness experienced. The qualities of materials that relate to our sense of hearing have to do with the kind of sounds—dull, sharp, ringing, muffled, low or high pitch— produced when the material is set in a vibrational mode, including by simply striking it. The sound of a metal object striking a sheet of lead is quite different than when it hits a piece of glass. In some design situations, the senses of smell or taste can be important as well. Certainly these qualities are directly related to the intrinsic properties and structure of a material. Polycrystalline materials are normally opaque or translucent because of the way light impinging on them is scattered. The sense of warmth or coldness depends on the way heat is conducted away at the point of touch, which in turn depends on both the thermal conductivity and specific heat of the material. We look at these kinds of relationships in more detail in Chapters 4 and 5. For the moment, what is important to note is that there is a basis for these qualities in the intrinsic properties of the material. But here we should also note that the way we ultimately perceive these same qualities in a neurological sense is also dependent on our own receptive mechanisms. The spectrum of light that is visible to humans or the sound wavelengths we can hear, for example, are quite different than for other animals. What we actually perceive can be quite a complex topic. We can still note, however, that since these qualities that relate to the senses remain in some way linked
to specific mechanical, thermal, optical, or chemical properties, enhancing or otherwise modifying these qualities through the use of nanomaterials is entirely possible. Thus, the sense of warmth on touching a surface might be enhanced using nanomaterials to modify the thermal conductivity and/or specific heat of the surface
material. The associative qualities of a material are placed on it by both its use context and its users . As such, these characteristics are coupled with the context in which a material is found or used, and consequently, are ultimately dependent on the view of both individuals and society toward these materials, which are in turn culturally dependent. Specific examples are abundant and obvious here. For one, diamond is a material possessing many highly interesting intrinsic and technically oriented properties that make it extremely attractive for use in many circumstances in which extreme material hardness—an intrinsic property—is desired, as is
the case in many industrial processes. At the same time, diamonds clearly possess many associative qualities placed on them by our culture and society that are fundamentally symbolic but nonetheless of real importance.
The role of diamond jewelry in our society, for example, is fascinating. Yet even here, intrinsic properties of diamonds remain relevant. Humans are fascinated with the stunning color characteristics that we see when we peer into the material itself. This effect is in turn directly related to the material’s high index of refraction. As another example, we also see associative qualities present in the many synthetic materials that were historically widely introduced and used as substitutes for more expensive materials (for example, various synthetic materials introduced for flooring, such as linoleum, or for kitchen countertops). In some instances, these materials often became viewed as exactly that—cheap substitutes—no matter whether their physical properties are superior to those of the original or not. (Many technical properties of some new synthetics are
indeed superior to common traditional materials.) In other cases, such as with the introduction and use of Bakelite in early radio housings, there were few negative perceptions of this type because the synthetic material came almost immediately to be associated with exciting new technological advances and wonderful new emerging lifestyles that allowed broad connectivity to the world at large . Countless other examples exist. Understanding and dealing with these associative qualities is an important part of a designer’s role in dealing with objects used by the population at large.
Societal health concerns with the use of materials were not a terribly important consideration in describing or selecting a material until fairly recent years, when the impact of material selection on human health became better understood. We now know that the outgassing of materials within closed environments, for example, can produce a form of indoor air pollution that can cause occupant sickness. Nanomaterials are seen by some as posing potential health threats but by most others as a way of reducing them . Issues of sustainability and general environmental concerns span the spectrum from notions of how much embodied energy is used to produce a material all the way through its susceptibility to recycling are, again, responsive to societal concerns and mandates. Economic concerns, including the literal cost of a material, are everpresent. Costs of nanomaterials are known to be extremely high, which in turn suggests that they be selectively used. Both initial and long-term or life-cycle costs are important, but again these are values placed on the materials by their use in our society and our culture. There are also many forces for change that are strong drivers for new
product forms. illustrates some of these driving forces at a very broad level. Many are opportunity based and evolve from either changing population characteristics or the availability of new technologies
that allow needs to be met that could not be met before. Indeed, in many instances nanotechnologies are expected to be disruptive technologies that radically alter product forms. In other cases, nanomaterials and nanotechnologies will afford continuous improvement opportunities. Other broad forces for change can be
characterized as concern driven. These include a wide array of issues relating to the environment, national security, and so forth. Many new products have been spawned in response to concerns of this
type. In both opportunity- and concern-driven forces, a remarkable range of new scientific understandings contribute to the evolution of new or significantly adapted products. Given that externally based qualities are dependent on societal and cultural values, it is likewise to be understood that there is no uniform agreement on the relative importance of these different qualities, as is evidenced by the intense societal debates that still occur over recycling. Though reuse of materials has been accepted as a value by broad segments of our society, anyone can still go into any store and buy products that are fundamentally designed to be cast away after use, made from materials deliberately chosen with disposability rather than recycling in mind. These societal debates are ultimately played out in very specific material choices. It is the outcome of these debates over broad societal and cultural values, however, that provides impetus for some of the greatest forces for
change in the development and selection of materials.






13 Eylül 2011 Salı

Solar Panel



solar panel (photovoltaic module or photovoltaic panel) is a packaged, interconnected assembly of solar cells, also known asphotovoltaic cells. The solar panel can be used as a component of a larger photovoltaic system to generate and supply electricity in commercial and residential applications.
Because a single solar panel can produce only a limited amount of power, many installations contain several panels. A photovoltaic systemtypically includes an array of solar panels, an inverter, and sometimes a battery and interconnection wiring.

Module performance is generally rated under standard test conditions (STC): irradiance of 1,000 W/m², solar spectrum of AM 1.5 and module temperature at 25°C.
Electrical characteristics include nominal power (PMAX, measured in W), open circuit voltage (VOC), short circuit current (ISC, measured in amperes), maximum power voltage (VMPP), maximum power current (IMPP), peak power, kWp, and module efficiency (%).
Nominal voltage refers to the voltage of the battery that the module is best suited to charge; this is a leftover term from the days when solar panels were used only to charge batteries. The actual voltage output of the panel changes as lighting, temperature and load conditions change, so there is never one specific voltage at which the panel operates. Nominal voltage allows users, at a glance, to make sure the panel is compatible with a given system.
Open circuit voltage or VOC is the maximum voltage that the panel can produce when not connected to an electrical circuit or system. VOC can be measured with a meter directly on an illuminated panel's terminals or on its disconnected cable.
The peak power rating, kWp, is the maximum output according under standard test conditions (not the maximum possible output).
Solar panels must withstand heat, cold, rain and hail for many years. Many crystalline silicon module manufacturers offer a warranty that guarantees electrical production for 10 years at 90% of rated power output and 25 years at 80%.

12 Eylül 2011 Pazartesi

Casa Mila



Building designed by the Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí and built during the years 1905–1910, being considered officially completed in 1912. It is located at 92, Passeig de Gràcia (passeig is Catalan for promenade) in the Eixample district of BarcelonaCataloniaSpain.
It was built for the married couple, Roser Segimon and Pere Milà. Roser Segimon was the wealthy widow of Josep Guardiola, an Indiano, a term applied locally to the Catalans returning from the American colonies with tremendous wealth. Her second husband, Pere Milà, was a developer who was criticized for his flamboyant lifestyle and ridiculed by the contemporary residents of Barcelona, when they joked about his love of money and opulence, wondering if he was not rather more interested in "the widow’s guardiola" (piggy bank), than in "Guardiola’s widow".[2]
Gaudi, a Catholic and a devotee of the Virgin Mary, planned for the Casa Milà to be a spiritual symbol.[3] Overt religious elements include an excerpt from the Rosary prayer on the cornice and planned statues of Mary, specifically Our Lady of the Rosary, and two archangelsSt. Michael and St. Gabriel.[4] [5] The design by Gaudi was not followed in some aspects. The local government objected to some aspects of the project, fined the owners for many infractions of building codes, ordered the demolition of aspects exceeding the height standard for the city.[6]The Encyclopedia of Twentieth Century Architecture states that the statuary was indeed Mary the mother of Jesus, also noting Gaudi's devoutness, and notes that the owner decided not to include it after Semana Trágica, an outbreak of anticlericalism in the city.[7] After the decision was made to exclude the statuary of Mary and the archangels, Gaudi contemplated abandoning the project but was persuaded not to by a priest.[8]
Casa Milà was in poor condition in the early 1980s. It had been painted a dreary brown and many of its interior color schemes had been abandoned or allowed to deteriorate, but it has since been restored and many of the original colors revived.







 

11 Eylül 2011 Pazar

Red Rock Canyon Visitor Center / Line and Space

Architect: Line and Space, LLC
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Completion Date: 2011
Project Area: 52, 700SqFt
Client: US Department of the Interior Bureau of Land Management
Contractor: Straub Construction
Structural Engineer: Holben, Martin, and White Consulting Structural Engineers
Civil Engineer: GLHN Architects and Engineers
Exhibit/Interpretive Consultant: Hilferty and AssociatesPhotography: Robert ReckHenry Tom



Intended to introduce up to 1 million visitors a year to the wonders of , the new Interpretive Facility by Line and Space differs from traditional visitor centers by emphasizing the specific attributes of Red Rock Canyon itself, in lieu of pseudo-natural imitations. Here, visitors are introduced to the relevant science, art and culture that will enhance their experience in Red Rock Canyon; strongly encouraging them to visit the nearby real thing.

The Visitor Center responds to environment – transition zones alleviate shock to users’ senses. Controlling exposure to the sun provides shaded, cooler microclimates for outdoor exhibits and activities. Like the desert tortoise burrowing to regulate its body temperature, earth integration of the building insulates, and also conveys a message of resource conservation.
In support of the Bureau of Land Management’s (BLM) mission to encourage stewardship for the land, the design of this facility provides an outdoor experience which will instill, in individuals, a sense of personal responsibility for their land’s well-being. Many resource-conserving ideas are incorporated into the project.

The Arrival Experience is sheltered by a “big hat” (a roof with ample overhangs) which creates intermediate thermal transition zones as well as forms the collection plane for rainwater harvesting (used for interpretive exhibits and landscape irrigation). High-efficiency mechanical systems are utilized, while daylighting, solar water heating, a transpired solar wall system and a 55 kW photovoltaic array convert the region’s intense sun into free energy. The transpired solar wall system provides heating for the public rest rooms during winter months, eliminating the need for a typical mechanical system in these spaces. As part of future upgrades to infrastructure, a new recirculating waste water system will replace an existing septic system, treating reclaimed water for reuse in flushing toilets.
A new Contact/Fee Station replaces the one currently in use, and the existing Visitor Center Facility (constructed in 1982) has been remodeled to house flexible administrative offices for BLM staff, including in-house wildlife biologists and environmental education specialists in support of the National Conservation Area.




10 Eylül 2011 Cumartesi

Cape Schanck House


Architects: Jackson Clements Burrows Pty Ltd Architects
Location: Cape Schanck, Victoria, 
Project Team: Tim Jackson, Jon Clements, Graham Burrows, Kim Stapleton, George Fortey, Brett Nixon
Design duration: 12 months
Construction duration: 18 months
Landscape: Site Office Landscape Architects
Mechanical: Griepink & Ward Pty Ltd 
Structural: Adams Consulting Engineers Pty Ltd
Contractor: BD Projects
Constructed Area: 400 sqm
Photographs: John Gollings

The undulating landscape at Cape Schanck is primarily a combination of cleared grass dunes (locally known as the Cups region) and expansive areas of dense Coastal Heath and Ti-tree shrub. The site is a designated wildfire zone and prior to the landscape being significantly cleared by early European farmers the area was inhabited by local aborigines.
On our first site visit we discovered the remnants of a hollowed out burnt log. This informed a starting point for an architectural exploration for the interiors and exterior where the form of the hollowed log suggested possibilities for an architectural solution.
The site is located on a high inland dune amongst dense coastal ti-tree shrub with expansive western views. On approach, the visitor is fronted by an expansive wall which conceals the primary upper level form. The lower level extends from the steep ground plane as a rendered plinth and forms a base much like the surrounding dunes. A winding driveway climbs the steep dune accessing the upper level behind a screen fence which conceals the view beyond. From here the entry experience opens to expansive views over the living area, deck and pool.
Programmatically the house considers the needs of a retired couple and their extended family who regularly visit with grandchildren. The primary upper level form (conceived as a hollowed out log) contains the kitchen, dining, living, garage and laundry. A secondary upper level form (conceived as a branch extending from the log) contains the study, master bedroom and ensuite. These forms are both finished in spotted gum hardwood cladding which is stained black. Cedar windows and cladding left in a natural finish are sleeved into the black exterior accentuating the difference between the interior and exterior as if part of a natural weathering process. The lower level contains guest accommodation and conceals functional plant spaces for mechanical systems and pool equipment.
The house is orientated to the northwest embracing expansive views. To control passive heating in summer, the western windows are protected by extensive eaves and motorised external Vental louvre blinds automatically descend once the sun passes through the north axis. Extensive northern glass is also protected by sunshades which limit solar penetration in summer. Further sustainable design considerations include fully automated electrical systems to reduce unnecessary power drain, bore water for garden and pool use and rainwater collection to tanks for all domestic use – town water was available however the clients agreed that the connection was unnecessary.
This house engages with the landscape through manipulation of form, material and colour. The weathered black vertical cladding profile references the undercroft structure of the Ti-tree and upper level form extends from the hill at ground level rising to a ridge which then descends to the west. At distance, the cranked profile of the form responds to the undulating profile of the surrounding ti-tree scrub and immerses the building within its surrounds.





Menzis Office Building / Cie





Architects: Branimir Medic & Pero PuljizLocation: Groningen, NetherlandsProject Team: V. Ulrich, M. de Jong, K. de Schepper, C. Garcia, W. Benschop, M. Keijzer, P. van Berkum, H.O. Vermeer
Construction Year: 2003-2005Contractor: Heijmans IBC bouw bv, AssenStructural Engineer: Ingenieursbureau Wassenaar bv, Haren
Constructed Area: 20,000 sqm
Photographs: 
Allard van der Hoek, Christian Richters, Luuk Kramer