-By Amy Milshtein, Photography by Tim Griffith

Just like you can't make an omelet without cracking some eggs, you can't construct a new building without cutting some trees. Unfortunately, the students at the Nueva School in Hillsborough, Calif., weren't ready to have any removed from their campus, even the non-native cypress trees that needed to go to make room for the new Hillside Learning Complex. So Leddy Maytum Stacy Architects found a creative and ecologically sensitive solution for this issue and the many others that arose while constructing this "aggressively green" school. The results teach a positive lesson.

Founded in 1967, the Nueva School is an independent school serving some 370 students from pre-kindergarten to eighth grade. Its innovative curriculum seeks to foster learning while helping students make choices that will benefit the world. Of course these core values are found throughout the 27,000-sq.-ft. Learning Complex, which includes three buildings organized around a central plaza: a library/media center, classroom space for grades five through eight, and a student center complete with a cafeteria, kitchen, and indoor/outdoor performance and gathering space.

With a strong green agenda already in place, the Nueva School had a unique opportunity to create a special series of buildings that embraces its ecological bent, and the architects were more than happy to oblige. "We were able to bring the building to a LEED Gold certification," says William Leddy, FAIA, principal at Leddy Maytum Stacy Architects in San Francisco. Interestingly enough, at first the school ruled out obtaining the LEED certification because of the cost. "The kids were the ones who pushed for the certification," admits Nueva School executive director Diane Rosenberg. "In the end it made sense. It's an important statement."

Exceeding the 2030 Challenge, the complex uses at least 65 percent less energy than the national average for a school of its size. It accomplishes this admirable goal in a variety of ways. Photovoltaic cells on one roof provide 24 percent of the school's energy. Automatic lights dim or turn off entirely when the sun alone provides enough foot candles. Most horizontal and vertical circulation takes place outside, eliminating corridors to light and heat. Air conditioning was eliminated entirely, except in the media lab.

Orientating the building to the prevailing winds and installing wood turbines on the roof to augment the ventilation came together to make the no-air-conditioning dream a reality. "Even though everything was engineered and planned you never know how it will really work until you're in it," recalls Leddy. "The first day of school was 92 degrees, and it turned out to be a lovely event where everyone was comfortable."

Two of the school's roofs are vegetated. These living roofs work to cool the buildings further while providing an additional 10,000 sq. ft. for endangered California plants and animals. One roof features grasslands while the other was planted to attract birds and a specific endangered species of butterfly. Storm water is managed with grace, as well. It is channeled off of the building and down a series of rocks and waterfalls, eventually spilling into a man-made arroyo. "During our first torrential downpour, a student stood outside and stopped in his tracks," remembers Rosenberg. "When I asked him if he was OK, he responded, 'Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?'—referring to the system."

Interior spaces were left intentionally spare and ultimately flexible. Rosenberg points out that no one knows what teaching will look like in 20 years so the rooms reconfigure easily with rolling garage doors and adaptable furniture. The 4,000-sq.-ft. Innovation Lab goes above and beyond a traditional science lab. It cuts across curricula and is part shop, part lab, part high-powered computing space.

Furnishings meet the GreenGuard criteria. Some, like the coffee tables in the library, are made of recycled pressed paper. Always looking for ways to teach and enhance learning, the architect left some little windows that provide an x-ray view into the building's inner workings. Along with the pipes and conduits, students will see insulation that is 25 percent recycled cotton. "It's old blue jeans," says Rosenberg with a laugh. "We held a jean drive to provide the material."

But what about those missing trees? Even though the Hillside Learning Complex was constructed on an existing parking lot, some non-native cypress trees had to be cut down. When the students learned of this they launched a massive "save the trees" campaign, and even kindergartners came to Rosenberg's office quoting Dr. Seuss's The Lorax, who spoke for the trees.

Reality demanded that the trees come down, but they were not lost. Instead they were milled off site ("We considered milling them on-site, but it would have been too noisy," says Rosenberg), and turned into the wooden slats and benches that decorate the exterior. The students and teachers love the solution and everything else about the building.

"Every time we go there the kids ask the best questions," says Leddy. "Along with inquiring about what it means to be an architect they ask things like, 'How much does this building weigh?" So Bill, how much does the building weigh? "I'll tell you what I told that child," says Leddy, "I have no idea!"