Underground Space. Vol. 1, pp. 135- 156. ©Perga mon Press 1976. Printed in U.S.A.

The Architectural Underground

KENNETH LABS

Star Route, Mechanicsville, PA 18934

Underground space is a resource of great potential benefit which has been exploited in different parts of the world for thousands of years. While some cultures literally have lived an underground existence, others have yet to realize any of the benefits of subsurface use. This article is concerned with the use of underground space for architectural applica­ tion, i.e., designed for the purpose of human habitation or occupance for the tasks of daily life. Historical underground applications usually revolve around a few primary themes, which were the subject of Part I. The major emphasis of interest in the subsurface has shifted several times in the past few decades, during which a rich assortment of building types and forms has emerged. Part II examines these modern forms and functions with the intention of summarizing our current state of practice.

PART II: FORMS AND FUNCTIONS IN THE MODERN WORLD

Introduction

PART I of this article described the heritage of

undergound space use and identified several major

themes of subsurface development evident through­

out history in various cultures of the world. These

themes consist of climatic, ·defensive, and resource­

related responses to the local environment, and of

ceremonial or experientially-related uses of the sub ­

surface derived from its symbolic and physical

attributes.

Also in Part I, a distinction was made between

types of underground development which are ex­

cavated in self -supporting media and those which

are built up through the practice known as cut-and­

cover construction. This first technique has been

described as lithotecture, which generally assumes

some method of subsurface excavation (such as

mining or tunneling) in geologic strata. The latter

process has been termed terratecture, and it applies

specifically to building construction in soil environ­

ments.*

*These descriptions follow directly from geog­

rapher Truman Stauffer's definitions of "terraspace" and "lithospace" submitted to the symposium on the "Development and Utilization of Underground Space," Kansas City, 1975 (Department of Geo­ sciences, University of Missouri, Kansas City). "Lithotecture" and "terratecture" have appeared previously in the literature, and are used here in agreement with both their earlier use as well as Stauffer's.

Considering the scope of conventional profes­

sional practice, near-surface terratectural building is

likely to be the only form of subsurface construc­

tion within the capability or interest of most archi­

tectural offices. It is not surprising then that the

overwhelming majority of modern instances of

underground architectural application fall into this

category; for this reason, Part II will deal exclusive­

ly with terratectural alternatives in architectural

design.

The Relationship Between Fonn and Function

The relationship between form and function has

always been at issue in the development of a theory

or an aesthetic of modern architecture. In possibly

no other mode of architectural design is this rela­

tionship - at least regarding the typology of form

- more critical to the satisfactory performance of a

building than in subsurface applications.

Underground designs, for instance, may call into

question the utility and psychological value of

features as ordinary as windows, sunlight, on-grade

access, and visual identity of the building as an

object. These elements need not be sacrificed in

terratectural alternatives, but the implications are

clear: a fully subsurface chamber cannot have

exterior windows, nor will it have a highly visible

form. In building functions where natural light and

views are highly regarded (such as residences or

offices), or where visibility and curb appeal are

essential economic considerations (shops, restau­

rants , etc.), such a form is ill-suited to the building

program. On the other hand, many building func-

135

136 Kenneth Labs

0 10 20

FIG. 1. Although an addition to an existing surface structure, this power monitoring station exemplifies a security-consious "para-geotectural" function which has been housed in an earth-covered building. Architects for the Texas Power and Light facility are Brown, Brown, and Associates of Dallas, Texas.

FIG. 2. Theatres, concert halls, and auditoria are buildings which by nature are antipathetic to natural lighting. Pictured above is one of two fully subgrade grass-covered theatres at the Jefferson National

Expansion Memorial in St. Louis, Missouri, beneath the Gateway Arch. (Photo by the author)

137 The Architectural Underground

tions already are well adapted to subsurface environ­

ments* , and realize little benefit from being on the

surface where they are subjected to wind, rain, sun,

and seasonal temperature fluctuations. Examples in­

clude warehouses, telephone switching facilities ,

electric substations, parking garages, and assembly

plants. If the aspect of imageability is discounted ,

this list can be greatly expanded to include uses

such as theatres and auditoria , galleries and

museums, night clubs , supermarkets, department

stores , recording studios, and a host of other both

common and esoteric applications. On the other

hand , terratectural buildings are not necessarily

formless or image!ess, as the following classification

chart illustrates.

water readily , balance on-site cuts and fills , and are

well adapted for use in areas of high ground water

level. Earth berms themselves may be used as archi­

tectural elements (to shape space), as visual and

acoustical barriers , and/ or as interesting play sur­

faces.

Subgrade structures permit continuity of the

grade level, and have been popularly employed

where site and building programs demand a low­

profile or a "non-building" architectural solution.

One of the great virtues of sub-grade structures is

this invisibility and the non-disruptive integration

into existing contexts which it enables.

Atriums and courtyards are frequently incor­

porated into subgrade designs to provide access , to

create outdoor rooms, and to introduce natural light A TAXONOMY OF TER­ RATECTURAL TYPES

1 CHAMBER: WINDOWLESS

IAI

BERM

IBI

SUBGRADE into the building's recesses. Fully subgrade struc­

tures also offer the greatest opportunity for maxi­

mizing land use on a single site , as will be illustrated

Ia ter in this paper.

2 ATRIUM OR

COURTYARD

3 ELEVATIONAL :

WALL EXPOSED

4 PENETRATIONAL:

WALL OPENINGS

FIG. 3. A classification guide to earth-covered struc­ tures. Types A3 and B3 represent the classic "dug­ out" form which has enjoyed a significant revival in recent years. (This chart has been modified from an earlier version which first appeared in the author's thesis, "The Architectural Use of Underground

Space: Issues arid Applications").

This simple taxonomy suggests the diversity of

physical options available in earth-covered construc­

tion. The variety of surface-to-subsurface relation­

ships which characterize the types depicted here

suggest that caution be exercised in generalizing

about the "intrinsic" qualities of underground struc­

tures. The two abstracted types presented - berm

and subgrade - are simply points of departure for

modification, combination , and compromise to suit

individual sites and requirements. Nonetheless , some

generalizations are appropriate to these two types in

their pure forms.

Berm-type structures may be molded into the

landscape or may be used to create bold , simple

forms. They are easily shaped to facilitate on-grade

access and window exposures, particularly when

used in conjunction with retaining walls. Berms shed

*These functions are said to be para-geotectural,

or "as underground." Para-geotectural qualities us­ ually are assumed to include windowlessness, which is not, however , a universal characteristic of earth­ covered stru ctures. Para-geotectural functions may best be described as those "which might as well be underground."

Windowlessness

Windowlessness cannot be regarded as an inherent

characteristic of the subsurface, yet it always will be

an inescapable issue in the design of terratectural

alternatives. Although fenestration is available to

many underground building forms, the area and

orientation of windows always will be somewhat

limited and a determining factor in the arrangement,

or zoning, of interior functions.

The subject of windowlessness itself has generated

a great deal of debate during the past two decades ,

but it remains clouded by much emotionalism and

little empirical or psychological study .* The usual

effect of eliminating windows is to internalize the

environment, i.e ., to focus it inward by removing

outside stimuli which are unrelated to the task at

hand. Some architects have been quick to seize the

advantage of this feature , especially in the design of

learning environments where exterior distractions

(traffic , playground activity , lawn mowing) interrupt

students' concentration while challenging teach­

ers' disciplinary authority.

The idea of windowless or underground schools

has been met with apprehension and claims of

"unnaturalness" on the part of parents. Performance

studies assessing students' achievement and behavior,

teacher attitudes, and post facto community opin­

ion in such situations , however , have shown them to

be at least as effective as neighboring control

schools; there is some additional evidence to suggest

greater satisfaction and benefit from windowless

classrooms than from ordinary, windowed , surface

school rooms.

*A survey of literature on the topic is available

from the National Bureau of Standards, #NBS Building Sci. Series 70.

Kenneth Labs 138

DISPATCHING

=

0 10 20

---- - -------------- -- ------- ---- ---

: ...: . .··...:

0 10 20

LOBBY DISPATCHING

FIG. 4. Th e St. Louis City Fire Alarm Headquarters houses racks of electronic and switching gear for dispatching fire and police calls. Located on the edge of Forest Park , the struct u re 's roof frequently is used as a

field for baseball and football games. The facility was designed by Hellmuth , Oba ta, and Kassabaum, Inc., Architects. (Plan provided by the St. Louis Fire and Police Telegraph Section; photo by the author)

139 The Architectural Underground

Less controversial uses of windowless environ­

ments are those in which people spend little time ,

and where windows jeopardize or conflict with the

performance of the function being housed. Exam­

ples include photographic lighting studios, dark­

rooms, museum storage, refrigerated warehouses,

planetariums, mushroom farms, and the "para­

geotectural" applications previously discussed.

For functions in which natural light and views are

highly desirable, expected, or may connote status

(as in the top floors of an office building), the

absence of windows will usually result in some form

of occupant discontent. Dissatisfaction caused by

what one may perceive as substandard conditions

ultimately will fault the overall performance of a

structure, regardless of extra-functional benefits

such as energy conservation and landscape preserva­

tion. Designers of underground environments have

compensated for this in a number of ways. One

method has been to provide generous spatial accom­

modations - high ceilings, wide corridors, and in­

ternal windows (vision panels) to visually link

offices, lobbies, and reception areas. Another

method of spatial compensation is to group small

"aedicular" spaces (e.g., offices) around a grand

central space , such as a multi-level lobby or atrium .

Lighting compensation also may be introduced with

bright, cheerful colors on the walls augmenting

carefully selected task and "complexion" lighting.

Highly uniform environments inevitably lead to

boredom and dissatisfaction, and should be avoided.

Surrogate windows and simulation devices are

cosmetic approaches to earth-integrated design. The

perceived need for them ·reveals the imposition of

underground location on a function ill-suited to the

subsurface , a poorly-conceived architectural solu­

tion , and/or deficient design of the interior. In the

final analysis , surrogates and simulation techniques

may offer psychic comfort to some, but their

ultimate success depends on one 's environmental

sensitivity and willingness to be assuaged by devisive

artificiality .

Surface-Interfacing Solutions

In a building program where windows are

germ ane to the building's activities, the concern for

occupant satisfaction may preclude a fully window­

less design. Surface-interfacing solutions are ideal for

such situations, particularly where major portions of

the building can tolerate or benefit from window­

lessness (as in the case of libraries, e.g.). With

judicious zoning of internal functions , heavily­

peopled areas may enjoy the presence of windows ,

while services, circulation , and mechanical facilities

are relegated to the windowless interior. Surface­

interfacing forms have proved to be the most popu­

lar and versatile of terratectural alternatives; their

variety of shapes , sizes, and applications will be

discussed in the remainder of this paper.

Forms and Functions: Modern Themes of Sub­

surface Use

As in historical cases of underground use , several

major themes underlie the development of sub­

surface alternatives in modern practice. Moreover ,

these themes reflect the bases of the troglodytic

tradition: energy-related interest in the underground

is relatively new, yet it closely parallels the climatic

benefits realized long ago by far less sophisticated

cultures. Conservation-oriented consideration of sub­

surface buildings is but a new interpretation of

environmental resource allocation; aesthetic argu­

ments for earth-covered buildings continue a formal

interest in earth-architecture as old as building itself.

Similarly, bomb-shelter solutions echo the defensive

advantages of the past , and the experiential quali­

ties of penetrating the subsurface surely are as real

today as in pre-history .

The majority of modern underground buildings

embody one or more of these themes , but the most

prevalent single determinant in decisions to go

under derive from peculiar site circumstances. This

will be illustrated in the following discussions which

relate how program , site , and taxonomic form have

come together to create successful earth-covered

structures.

Extraordinary Site Circumstances

The Lake Worth Junior High School near Fort

Worth, Texas , exemplifies an extreme, but not

uncommon , locational problem that was resolved

satisfactorily with a fully subgrade, windowless

building: Situated directly in line with the flight

path of nearby Carswell Air Force ·Base , existing

on-site classrooms experienced the incessant jet

whine of approaching B-52 bombers. Architect

Preston Geren 's response to the inhospitable acous­

tical environment was to build the entire new junior

high school underground . Two other aspects of the

design (see illustration) are noteworthy : the con­

crete slab "roof" of the main building functions as

a playground , while the school's cafeteria has been

constructed beneath Telephone Road , which serves

the school.

A further advantage of the subsurface location is

the protection it offers in the event of aircraft

accidents and the fire hazard associated with near­

airport sites. Perhaps of greates t significance is the

fact that students and faculty alike are enthusiastic

about Lake Worth Junior High School , now in its

eleventh year of operation .

An even more unique circumstance is found at

the Champaign /Urbana campus of the University of

Illinois. There , architect Ambrose Richardson was

faced with building a new undergraduate library on

Kenneth Labs 140

• •

• •

CAFETERIA

CL ASS ROOM

• •

>- 0:: <r: 0:: iil ::::i

FIG. 5. An unusual characteristic of the Lake Worth, Texas, Junior High School is that its cafeteria is located beneath a municipal street. The energy-conserving structure was designed subgrade for acoustical isolation by Architects Preston

Geren Associates, Ft. Worth, Texas.

a site immediately to the west of the nation's oldest

agricultural test plot. The building program pro­

hibited a structure tall enough to cast afternoon

shadows on the test field , so Richardson designed

his two-story facility to sit under - rather than on

- the site. The result is an open pedestrian plaza

where a building might have stood, with the addi­

tional benefit that the undergraduate library links

directly with the basement of the adjoining graduate

library. The building plan is a "square doughnut,"

with both levels of stacks surrounding a two-story

deep central courtyard.

Physical, Topographic Site Conditions

Often topographic and other existing site condi­

tions combine to provide both an opportunity and

sufficient reason to select a subsurface alternative. A

splendid site overlooking the Delaware River in an

historical district of Bristol , Pa., presented such an

opportunity when architects Carroll , Grisdale, and

Van Allen (now J. Ray Carroll, Jr. and Partners)

were commissioned to design the Margaret R.

Grundy Memorial Library.

The earth-covered dugout design affords views of

the river from the upper street level, while creating

The Architectural Underground

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141

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RADC L I FF E ST REE T

---- - - --- - ------ ----- ------ - ----- ------------- --- -- ---------- -- - --- - -- -- ------- - - -- ---- --

0 15 30

DELA W A R E R I V E R

STREET

DELAWARE RIVER

READING STACKS

'

FIG. 6. The Margaret R. Grundy Memorial Library fits into the bank overlooking the Delaware River in Bristol , Pa. Here the lower level is pictured, with the small street level entry pavilion visible above.

Architects are J. Ray Carroll, Jr. and Partners of Philadelphia, Pa. (Photo by the author)

142 Kenneth Labs

pleasant lawns at both upper and lower levels. The

scale and residential character of the neighborhood

is preserved by reducing the visible bulk of the

library building. Only a small entry pavilion occurs

on the surface; the openness of the remaining site

serves as an effective foil for the adjacent Grundy

House, now a local museum. The entire southern

side of the building is a fully-windowed facade,

providing direct views of the river from offices and

reading areas of the library .

The Grundy Library is an understated testimony

to sensitive site planning. It fully realizes the beauty

of a superb location and responds graciously to the

quiet historical surroundings in which it resides.

Sloping sites are ready opportunities for terra­

tectural schemes, so it is no accident that many

designers envision buildings tucked into the con­

tours of a hillside . An underlying concern of archi­

tect Don Metz was to preserve the existing character

of his house site in rural Lyme, New Hampshire. He

achieved this by recessing the structure into the

slope, covering the roof with sod, and letting nature

reclaim the site. In spite of being underground ,

Metz's Winston House enjoys a southern exposure

and 50-mile distant views. The earthen surroundings

of this modern dugout mitigate the severe cold New

Hampshire climate; its solar orientation captures the

low winter sun while an overhang ensures summer

shading. Metz has been so satisfied with this mode

of building that he has begun a second earth­

covered house on a nearby site. Dugout #2 is a

curvilinear, two-level plan that more closely resem­

bles type A4 in the foregoing taxonomy than the

single-elevation dugout form of Winston House.

Both ate superbly integrated into the natural envi­

ronment, yet capture the expected visual amenities

of more conventional surface designs.

Aesthetics and Site Planning: Non-Objective Archi­

tecture?

Of all the site-circumstantial conditions which

have led to underground building designs, probably

none is better represented than those cases in which

a building is required , but where its physical pres­

ence is undesirable. Two situations are especially

common: The first comprises additions to existing

buildings, the second involves building expansions

which encroach on valuable open space. Both in ­

stances are typically urban in context, and are

frequently encountered in center -city areas and on

university campuses. Historic preservation is often a

key issue in these circumstances , but the non­

existent form of sub grade structures is an ideal

complement to contemporary urban focal points as

well.

Architect Victor Prus has described this ap­

proach as an "architecture of little presence." His

design for the Grand Theatre of Quebec complex

incorporates a bi-level subgrade conservatory that

succinctly illustrates this philosophy. The open sur­

face of the conservatory site emphasizes the volume

of the major edifice, with which it is integrated at

basement levels. Furthermore, the busy character of

the surface of the site conflicted with the quieter

demands of class and practice rooms:

"The site itself is very small and fairly noisy as one of the

bordering streets has become a major vehicular artery.

This circumstance necessitated extremely compact plan­

ning. That and the hustle and bustle of the downtown

traffic caused me to organize the conservatory on two

underground levels around a landscaped court sunken

below street level. A forest of black spruce further

protects it on three sides while on the fourth there rises

the one simple volume of precast concrete, housing on

this side entrances to conservatory, its library and dis­

cotheque, and on the other side, entrances to theatres,

lobby and foyers and, of course, the two theatres stacked

one on top of the other."*

A similar formal relationship is found between

the monumental Jefferson Memorial in St. Louis,

Missouri, and the museum addition, designed by

Sverdrup & Parcel and Associates. The Jefferson

Memorial is a regional museum and contains the

offices of the Missouri Historical Society. With the

increasing need for additional gallery space, an

architectural design was sought which would not

disrupt the memorial's classic Beaux Art facade. The

award-winning solution locates the new annex

below-grade as an extension of the existing build­

ing's basement galleries. The core of the addition is

a recessed courtyard exhibition space. It serves

multiple functions of admitting daylight, providing a

fire exit, and acting as an orien tational device for

visitors to the earth-covered galleries.

The Walnut Hill Methodist Church Youth Center

in Dallas, Texas, illustrates the "non-building" aes­

thetic applied to still another highly-visible site of

limited area. Architects Brown , Brown, and Asso­

ciates of Dallas were commissioned by the church

to design accommodations for recreation, study, and

social activities. The only available location, how­

ever, was on the property's front lawn. The archi­

tects ' analysis suggested that the structure should be

built under the grassy site where it would not

obstruct the sanctuary's street facade. Although

initially met with mixed reaction, the subgrade

scheme offered another amenity that assured its

approval: it allowed the architects to connect the

new structure to the basement recreation/kitchen

complex of the existing building, thereby averting

the anticipated need for additional major kitchen

facilities. The underground youth center is an ideal

solution to a particularly sensitive set of program­

matic issues; moreover , it is possibly the only fully

*Quoted from PLACEDART Vol. 6, No. 2, December '7 0-January '71, p. 2i.

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The Architectural Underground 143

L MUS BR

0 10 20

FIG. 7. Architect Don Metz 's "Winston House" captures views and yet preserves the nature of its rural New Hampshire site. Back-to -back light scoops penetrate the surface, illuminating the dining area below. (Photo by

the architect)

Kenneth Labs 144

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FIG. 8. One way to restore peace and tranquility to an urban location is to recess the building and the site into the earth. Canadian Architect Victor Prus's conservatory for the Grand Theatre of Quebec surrounds a quiet sunken courtyard with a pool and benches two levels below the noisy surface. (Photo courtesy of the

architect)

The Architectural Underground 145

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EXIST ING

BUILDING

1----.----.-1..1. , 0 15 30

0 10 20 COURTYARD EXHIBITION CORRIDOR

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FIG. 9. This unexpected courtyard serves as a su.bgrade outdoor room for the museum annex to the Missouri Historical Society 's Jefferson Memorial. /it. Louis architects Sverdrup & Parcel and Associates, Inc. preserved the monumental facade of the existing edifice and provide visitors with an enjoyable

series of underground galleries. (Photo courtesy of the architects)

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FIG. 10. The bold spiral form on the lawn of the Walnut Hill Methodist Church in Dallas, Texas, is not only sculpture: it houses an entry/exit to the circular youth center addition beneath. Architects for the successful

subgrade building are Brown, Brown, & Associates of Dallas.

Jhe Architectural Underground 147

satisfactory resolution of all design issues confront­

ing the architects.

Other "invisible buildings" that respond to aes­

thetic criteria include architect Philip Jo hnson's own

well-publicized art gallery on the grounds of his

estate in New Caanan, Connecticut. Faced with the

need for space to exhibit and protect his collection,

Johnson created a landscape-conforming bermed

bunker in lieu of a building as a perceptible object.

He enjoys the gallery's psychological play on visi­

tors' anticipations:

"... going into a building that isn't there, they get that

feeling of "where are we going?" Since every room is

about 10 times bigger than they expect, there's a positive

element of surprise and romance. Caves are probably an

atavism of some kind; people enjoy being enclosed. "*8,

FIG. 10 (continued). The bold spiral form on the

lawn of the Walnut Hill Methodist Church in Dallas,

Texas, is not only sculpture: it houses an entryjexit

to the circular youth center addition beneath. Ar­

chitects for the successful subgrade building are

Brown, Brown, & Associates of Dallas. (Photo by

the author)

Still another well known - and overlooked -

underground facility is the Visitor Center at the

Jefferson National Expansion Memorial in St. Louis,

Missouri. Nearly 43,000 square feet of museum,

theatre, and lobby space was constructed during the

early 1960's in conjunction with Eero Saarinen's

awesome Gateway Arch along the Mississippi River­

front. Most of this area to date has been unde-

*Quoted from "The Earth: Discussing the Basic

Issues," in Progressive Architecture, April 1967, p. 181.

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FIG. 11. The vast Visitor's Center complex beneath the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri, houses two

theatres and a large museum area. See photo elsewhere in this article. (Plan courtesy of National Park Service,

Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, St. Louis, Mo.)

148 Kenneth Labs

veloped and inaccessible to the public; it will soon

be opened as part of the Bicentennial celebration,

and will house the National Park Service's Museum

of Westward Expansion.

The grass-covered Visitor Center currently pro­

vides access to the Arch's internal transportation

system, which is entered underground in the legs of

the structure. Burying all supporting facilities be­

neath the surface enabled Saarinen to spring the

mammoth stainless steel sculpture from an unclut­

tered surface - seemingly from the earth itself.

Underground Campus Planning

Underground campus facilities have become com­

mon in recent years, since most colleges have

limited physical plants and expanding spatial needs.

Locating new accommodations subgrade permits

architects to build near existing st ructures without

disrupting the spatial relationships that are a virtue

and a delight of well-planned campuses. Examples

of such facilities typically include libraries, student

centers, and book stores.

Illustrative of campus underground development

is the addition to the existing University Center of

the University of Houston, in Houston, Texas. The

plaza-rooted solution was designed by the office of

Goleman and Rolfe, Architects. Mr. Coulson Tough,

Vice-President of Facilities Planning and Operations

at the University, is to be given credit for estab­

lishing the program requirement that the new struc­

tur e be located underground.

The subsurface solution preserves open space on

campus and seizes the opportunity to extend an

existing subgrade level of the adjacent University

Center. A cluster of skylights creates a focal point

in the underground lounge , which is flanked by a

variety of offices , meeting rooms, and small audi­

toria . It may seem unusual that an underground

facility can incorporate a major pedestrian route,

but the University of Houston Student Center is

well-integrated into the campus circulation system.

It is fitting that this carefully studied , understated

design has become a major center of activity at the

University of Houston.

Developing campus underground space is a wise

endeavor in itself; the increased density resulting

from three-dimensional planning makes a university

more efficient by area, more stimulating through

activity, and more convenient in terms of pedestrian

mobility. The urban mini-system of the university

no doubt holds lessons for larger urban contexts as

well, although few cities have as practiceable an

open space policy as colleges have license to govern.

Nonetheless, campus-like subsurface development

could become an important tool for optimizing the

usefulness of an urban locale, while simultaneously

functioning as an aid for preservation of open space

and historic areas.

Not all structures that are located underground in

the name of open space planning are a product of

existing circumstances. When the Vineen t Kling

Partnership created the master plan for Monsanto

Company's world headquarters, it was determined

that the company cafeteria should be situated to

serve all office buildings of the corporate campus.

The necessary centrality of the location itself con­

flicted with the open space plan, so the cafeteria

was designed to occupy the chosen site subsurface.

Subgrade location here was not an accident of

existing circumstances, for another feature of the

master plan included a network of tunnel connec­

tions between buildings. These afford easy and

weatherproof communication pathways around the

campus, and several tunnels converge on the

mezzanine level of the spacious cafeteria building.

That the cafeteria is in fact covered by up to four

feet of earth, grass, and planting seems implausible

from within: deep , bright, light wells flank the

structure on three sides, and a bi-level skylight

illuminates both the mezzanine lobby and the serv­

ing line below. An impressive structure in every

respect, the Monsanto cafeteria is an obvious credit

to an enlightened owner and its imaginative and

facile archi teet.

Environmental Applications

The remaining major interest in underground

structures may be loosely grouped under environ­

mental concerns, and relates to both nature and

energy conservation. To have any significant impact

on a regional or national scale, earth-covered struc­

tures must enjoy widespread application and popu­

lar acceptance. Large scale use , however , is likely to

be impeded by sluggish lending and zoning policies ,

although these problems are already being

addressed.

Nonetheless, individual owners can benefit from

the environmental underground approach on their

own sites, regardless of the scale of neighboring

application. Natural returns will take the form of

increased usable land area, and energy benefits will

be realized in terms of economic savings. Some

models of small-lot underground buildings have al­

ready been well-published, including Malcolm Wells'

own architectural office in Cherry Hill, New Jersey ,

and architect John E. Barnard, Jr.'s demonstration

"Ecology House" in Marston Mills, Mass. Wells has

expressed the sentiment, "if you can't improve the

site, don't build at all." This is a radical manifesto

in the context of modern America's building prac­

tice, but one which may soon enough become

necessary. The following three buildings are very

The Architectural Underground 149

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5 FLOOR PLAN

exterior entrance

existing univers1ty center

0 25

FIG. 12 . This spacious lounge is actually part of an extensive underground student center at the University of

Houston. Architects for the award-winning plan are Goleman and Rolfe, of Houston, Texas.

150 Kenneth Labs

FIG. 12 (continued). This spacious lounge is actually part of an extensive underground student center at the

University of Houston. Architects for the award-winning plan are Goleman and Rolfe, of Houston, Texas.

(Photo courtesy of the architects)

different in their form , yet respond sympathetically The 27° angle of the grass-covered slopes them-

to natural ideals. selves were determined as safe after experiments

involving children's play , and were selected to pro­

The PL Institute Kindergarten is found in a

heavily-urbanized area of Japan - one of the most

urbanized countries in the world. Architect Take-

fuma Aida sees his berm building as a device to

return architecture to the natural landscape, and at

the same time to make best use of the space

available:

"My desire, however , is for the kindergarten to disappear

within a rural setting in the middle of a weathered

city ... then we decided to make the architecture dis­

appear and to devote everything to play space."*

The geometry of Aida's design may seem any­

thing but natural to American readers , but his

response is supplemented by an historical theme as

well:

"! shall strive to reinstate the heritage of forms that

mankind has built up over the ages. In fact, it may be a

return to these forms will become a matter of paramount

significance."*

*Quoted from "When the Architecture Dis­ appears," Japan Architect, April 1974 , p. 44.

vide the school children with a kind of spatial

experience which Aida considered enriching.

Near Austin, Texas, the native grass is beginning

to grow back over one of the most intriguing

structures yet to emerge from the modern under­

ground. Coffee and Crier, Architects and Planners

have designed a courtyard house reminiscent of the

Roman atrium plan (discussed in Part I of this

article) and the Pakistani houses familiar to their

client, a language professor at the University of

Texas. The semi-bermed form alone is superbly

adapted to the Texas site, where tornadoes have

twice damaged a nearby house. But it is the under­

ground design coupled with solar energy that makes

this residence especially distinctive.

A 12' x 20' solar collector assembly is located on

a mound detached from and facing the house. A

1000 gallon storage tank buried next to the en­

trance reserves a supply of space heat and pre­

heating for domestic hot water. The atrium serves as

an entry, focal point , and hallway for the dwelling.

A water fountain and pool in the court area will

cool and humidify the space. Solar cooling was

considered for the house , but the cooling demand is

The Architectural Underground 151

---

FIG. 13. Covered with up to four feet of earth and planting, this bright and immaculately-detailed interior is part of Monsanto Company's bi-le vel under­ ground cafeteria in St. Louis, Missouri. The Vincent Kling Partnership of Philadelphia, Pa ., makes extensive use of light wells, skylights, and bold engineer ing to create a dramatic dining experience for employees and clients

alike. (Reproduction of drawings by Lawrence S. Williams, Inc.)

152 Kenneth Labs

FIG. 13 (continued). Covered with up to four feet of earth and planting, this bright and immaculately-detailed interior is part of Monsanto Company's bi-level underground cafeteria in St. Louis, Missouri. The Vincent Kling Partnership of Philadelphia, Pa., makes extensive use of light wells, skylights, and bold engineering to

create a dramatic dining experience for employees and clients alike. (Photo by Lawrence S. Williams, Inc.)

so low that even the smallest available solar unit is

exceedingly oversized and would be inefficient for

general use. The Bordie House no doubt can have a

very beneficial influence on the use of terratectural

alternatives; its immediate benefits will be realized

most welcomely by the imaginative Bordie family.

Radically different from Coffee and Crier's inter­

pretation, but equally salubrious in persuasion is

Architect Mac Godley's two-story "Undersol" pro­

posal. Undersol is a prototypical plan designed to

fully integrate the mutual and complementary bene­

fits of subsurface construction with solar power.

The 1800 square foot project is designed to house a

family of three and is tailored for a Connecticut

climate.

Godley makes extensive use of old technologies

innovatively adapted for subsurface spaces . These

The Architectural Underground 153

FIG. 14. Resembling the truncated pyramids of ancient cultures, arr?hi­ tect Takefuma Aida's design for the PL Institute Kindergarten admits natural light to all major building areas. Geometrical berm-forms create play surfaces and make the structure a new interpretation of "landscape

architecture."

include natural ventilation by exhausting hot air

through roof vents and introducing cooler air below

grade by multi-purpose "windowscopes." A light

siphon acts as a highly-sophisticated skylight to

provide daylight to the subterranean level. The solar

collector scheme is based on the modular organiza­

tion of the house, and solar storage is contained in

an accessible location on the roof.

The somewhat futuristic look of Undersol itself

suggests the richness of potential form that is

inheren t in underground alternatives. In contrast to

the frequent use of dugout and atrium types of

development, Undersol is a stimulative reminder

that we have yet barely scratched the surface of

terra tectural form.

CONCLUSION

The many examples of underground architecture

presented in these two articles clearly demonstrate a

long heritage and a successful active present of

architectural subsurface space development. A

variety of terratectural forms ranging from fully­

subgrade protective structures to a host of well­

windowed surface-interfacing types are in current

use. The broad spectrum of these types offer archi­

tectural environments fully appropriate to almost all

conceivable building programs. With the increasing

congestion of urban and formerly rural land, with

the quest to preserve environmental quality and the

need for energy conservation, and with the re­

emerging interest in architectural form, terratectural

154 Kenneth Labs

SECTION LOOKING NORTHEAST

NORTHEAST ELEVATION

FIG. 15. Architects Coffee and Crier have adapted a Mediterranean atrium house plan for their client's specific

needs and an Austin , Texas, climate. The subsurface design makes the solar energy system even more practical,

and reduces cooling loads.

.,.

The Architectural Underground 155

. )/• .r. .

· '

.· ' \'

···.J---,

( ,

I'

•·'·

1./.'• ' ...

./,

,,_ .·

L

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FIG. 16. Architect Mac Godley's "Undersol" house proposal suggests the new technologies and forms which have yet to be explored in subsurface applications. Designed for a Connecticut climate, Godley's aim is to

minimize the structure's disruption of external natural systems.

156 Kenneth Labs

FIG. 14 (continued). Resembling the truncated pyramids of ancient cultures, architect Takefuma Aida's design for the PL Institute Kinder­ garten admits natural light to all major building areas. Geometrical berm-forms create play surfaces and make the structure a new inter­ pretation of "landscape architecture." (Photo by permission of Japan

Architect)

alternatives are destined to have a bright and enter ­

prising future.

The most exiciting aspect of the future of under­

ground architecture is that the necessary technology

already exists. The subsurface offers a promise - an

alternative in tune with the times and replete with a

richness of heritage , meaning, form, and practicality.

It is time that earth-covered buildings are recognized

as a truly 20th-Century architecture, and one of the

most vital alternatives currently available to us.

Acknowledgements - Data for all drawings and many of the photographs included in this article were furnished by the architects responsible for those projects. The author wishes to thank these firms for their cooperation and permission to publish their designs. Thanks is also given to Japan Architect for supplying photographs and drawings of the PL Institute Kindergarten.

The author acknowledges the difficulty of documenting the existence of under­ ground architecture, and invites readers familiar with any underground structure of architectural interest to contact him at the indicated address.