Cal Academy builds on its message of sustainability
SAN FRANCISCO -- By definition, museums are big boxes that store stuff. But in the case of the new California Academy of Sciences, what a wild box it is.
In fact, the place could be stripped of its last ancient bone and it would still warrant a visit.
Designed by noted Italian architect Renzo Piano, the resurrected, $500 million Cal Academy — as locals call it — is an eco-friendly edifice whose pointed mission is to educate the masses about global warming. From an array of solar panels to its self-ventilating portholes to a living roof sprouting native grasses, it preaches sustainability.
"We had this wonderful opportunity to rebuild it with an eye on the issue of the day, which is how we got here and how we're going to stay here," says Christopher Andrews, the museum's head of public programs.
That lesson is never more pointed than in a wing dedicated to both explaining the human-influenced causes of global warming and suggesting ways to fight the trend, whether through reducing carbon footprints or consuming locally grown foods. If the or-else message wasn't clear enough, the dominant display in the area is the skeleton of the ultimate — and extinct — predator, Tyrannosaurus rex.
"Given the dire state of the planet, this museum's bold approach thrills me," says Alan Leshner, CEO of the non-profit American Association for the Advancement of Science. " A science museum ought to be living what it preaches, and this one does."
The Cal Academy's green bona fides merited a top-level platinum rating from the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design, or LEED. While Andrews was initially nervous about reaction to the "non-linear flow" of the exhibits — there are few walls or passageways to suggest a route — two weeks after the opening, he is reassured.
"The world is used to bouncing around the Web looking for information," he says. "Why not have a museum that allows you to do the same thing?"
Founded in 1853, the old Cal Academy mushroomed into 11 buildings on this same site in Golden Gate Park. Before shuttering in 2002, the museum encompassed an aquarium, planetarium and earth sciences center, which now anchor the new facility.
The first thing you notice walking into this rectangular, sun-flooded box is its central piazza, which features tables and food concessions. (As befits the city's foodie reputation, fare includes handmade Vietnamese spring rolls and fresh-baked desserts.)
Off this public space is a seahorse-themed railing salvaged from the old Cal Academy building, where visitors can look down on two alligators. One, Claude, is an albino, a bad color for surviving swamps but a great one for attracting wide-eyed kids.
The basement is home to an expansive aquarium, whose showpiece is a 212,000-gallon tank filled with 2,000 rainbow-colored finned inhabitants of a Philippine coral reef.
The museum's soaring theme is represented by two imposing 90-foot spheres that anchor the building on each side. One houses the Morrison Planetarium, while the other shelters a rain forest. This humid environment can be viewed from its murky depths all the way to its butterfly-filled tree canopy. Many of the animals featured come from Madagascar and the Galapagos Islands.
One floor above the rain forest's canopy is the museum's roof, where a quick elevator ride leads to a viewing area that takes in much of Golden Gate Park.
But that's if you can take your eyes off the undulating roof itself, flora-covered dunes studded with giant portholes.
"Everything about this new building is meant to showcase what we can do to help the planet," says Andrews.
From the roof, he notes something a few hundred yards north: a striking if bunkerlike art museum, the de Young. "Besides," he says, with a wink, "our building's pretty, too."