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Old Tech, New Tech: 3D Printing with Adobe in the San Luis Valley

Approaching 600 years in age in Santa Fe, New Mexico, the oldest house in the U.S. is made of adobe.

Outside Antonito, Colorado, and likewise made of adobe, Casa Covida is just a couple of years old. The construction materials may be the same old tech, but the method is cutting-edge: A robotic arm 3D-printed Casa Covida from the soil of the San Luis Valley — just add water.

The structure is the brainchild of Ronald Rael of Rael San Fratello, an architecture firm in Oakland, California, and professor of architecture at the UC Berkeley College of Environmental Design.

Rael grew up in the Antonito area, and Casa Covida is located on his family’s land. “I’m indigenous to the Rio Grande watershed,” he says. “My family has been there for thousands of years, in Colorado and New Mexico. My family has always lived in buildings made of earth, so I’m very familiar with it.”

And adobe runs in the family: “My father was a builder who built adobe homes and renovated adobe houses for locals in the area. I grew up knowing quite a bit of it, its history and context.”

This knowledge of adobe led Rael to write the 2008 book, “Earth Architecture.” “It looks at the modern history of building with earth,” he says. “I proposed that maybe 3D printing was the future for earthen architecture.”

Sunset Trees Cc

Rael later partnered with Florida-based 3D Potter to create a robot that could print adobe as he envisioned. “They were making small-scale clay printers, but I saw that they had the capacity and the know-how to build larger printers, and I proposed something very different than what they were making at the time,” he explains. “Everything is relatively simple and low-cost. One person can pick up a robot and move it, and the robot can print objects much larger than itself. Mobility is a big part of this for me: Often, you see 3D printers and they’re larger than the building they’re going to make.”

Rael founded a company, Emerging Objects, to develop software to drive the robot, and describes Casa Covida as “a test case for this technology.” 3D Potter’s system printed the structure over the course of eight days with the robot arm climbing a mast to print the house, which is made up of three spaces designed to accommodate two people each, with openings to the sky, horizon, and ground.

“The mud was sourced right there onsite,” Rael says. “It’s sifted down to a particle size that the pump can handle, it has chopped straw in it, and that’s it, really. Because it’s alluvial soil — soil that washes down from the mountains along the river — it has a combination of clays and sands and silt particles and gravel particles that make it ideal for making adobes.”

And adobe is an ideal building material: “In a desert climate like Antonito in the San Luis Valley where it only rains nine inches a year, it can last for a really long time, but in any climate, with a roof and a good foundation, can also last forever.”

In 2021, Rael started a larger project at the Frontier Drive-In in Center, Colorado, about 50 miles due north of Antonito in the San Luis Valley. He plans to finish the structure — with eight chambers open-roofed featuring aquifer-fed soaking pools — in summer 2022.

The Frontier is the first project for Continuud, a new branch of Denver-based developer Continuum Partners, and is slated to open in summer 2022. “It’s an old 1950s drive-in movie theater that we are looking to revitalize and program in some new and interesting ways for that part of the world,” says Luke Falcone, project manager, noting the project includes lodging as well as a renovated snack bar, movie screen and sound system.

Rael’s work will fit right in at the development, adds Adam Gildar, program director at the Frontier. “It was just such a no-brainer for us to reach out to him,” Gildar says. “I think of him very much as an artist.”

Gildar likens Rael’s eight-chambered spa to a stepping stone to bigger projects. “In some ways, our project ends up being this interesting space between art and architecture,” Gildar says. “In that way, we also get to be an incubator between the aesthetic and the functional.”

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Rael has additional projects in the pipeline in Colorado and New Mexico and continues with R&D at the family land outside Antonito, refining staircases and domes and other concepts as part of his Mud Frontiers project that encompasses Casa Covida.

“I’m a full-time professor, but I’m beginning to speculate if this isn’t a real viable way to build buildings,” he says. “I think that it is a viable solution to the global housing crisis. In the United States, there might be a lack of understanding of the role earth had in the making of buildings over the last 10,000 years. There are places where that’s more familiar, like in the Southwest, but in every part of the country, buildings are made out of earth. The oldest house in Boston, which is Paul Revere’s house, is an adobe house.”

3D printing with dirt “reduces the cost of construction of the walls dramatically,” he adds with an intentional pun. “It’s dirt cheap. It costs nothing. Once I scale, it becomes even less expensive, and I have very good plans to scale in the coming year.”

Earthen construction is nothing new, Rael notes, but it fell out of favor “because you can’t make a lot of money building with earth.” He shares the story of François Cointeraux, the French architect who wanted to take earthen construction methods north from southern France in the late 1700s and early 1800s: “The brickmasons and the carpenters basically ran him out of town and burned all his drawings and destroyed his models.”

Online:
www.rael-sanfratello.com
www.emergingobjects.com
www.frontierdrivein.com

San Luis Valley keeps Colorado near the top in fresh spud output

The San Luis Valley, the world’s largest alpine valley, is often associated with the Great Sand Dunes, UFOs and vortexes. But its potato industry is another big, if more mundane, calling card.

The wide swath of high desert flatland between the Sangre de Cristos and the San Juans is a massive alluvial plain. The sandy soil, in concert with sunny days and cool nights, makes it an ideal place to grow potatoes. The underlying aquifer, under strain since the 1970s, is another critical piece of the potato-growing puzzle. Its isolation, and the resulting low disease pressure, makes it an even better place to grow potatoes for seed.

In all, Colorado grows about 20 million hundredweight ⁠— or 1 million tons ⁠— of potatoes a year, ranking it sixth in terms of gross weight in 2017. The 2019 crop’s value was more than $200 million.

Jim Ehrlich, executive director of the Colorado Potato Administrative Committee in Monte Vista, likes to point out that Colorado is second to only spud king Idaho in one respect. “We’re the second-largest shipper of fresh market potatoes in the country,” he touts. “We don’t really have any processors in the state of Colorado other than some dehydration plants.”

That means Colorado-grown taters end up in home kitchens and restaurants, not in the frozen aisle. Ehrlich says sales of frozen potatoes had risen for decades before the ratio stabilized in the past five years.

“We’re growing around 50,000 acres,” Ehrlich says. “Our acreage base is probably where it needs to be based on water availability. We used to grow more acreage than we do now, but the water basin’s been over-appropriated since the 1970s.”

A pair of ancient aquifers under the valley floor supply the farms, wells and municipal water systems, and are replenished by snowmelt. “It’s cyclical,” Ehrlich says. “It’s feast or famine with weather. As long as we get good snow in the winter, that’s what we need – good snowpack.”

Supporting the state’s industry, Colorado State University’s San Luis Valley Research Center was established in 1888 near Del Norte and moved to its current location outside Center in the 1940s.

“We primarily focus on potato breeding and the study of diseases and how potatoes are stored,” says Zach Czarnecki, the center’s farm manager. The 20-employee operation also certifies potato seed grown by Colorado growers.

“Our breeding program has released quite a variety of potatoes here,” Czarnecki says. “This year, we just released three new cultivars.”

He highlights the new Rocky Mountain Russet as more resistant to potato virus Y, one of the industry’s most destructive pathogens that can impact yield by 40%. “Seed growers are very interested in this,” Czarnecki says. “To have a variety that is resistant to [potato virus Y] means quite a lot to growers here. That’s the main criteria the potato certification service is looking for when they’re certifying seed. They’re looking for how much virus is present in the seed.”

Czarnecki says that’s especially important in a seed-producing region like the San Luis Valley. “Potatoes are vegetatively propagated, basically meaning you cut up potatoes and plant pieces of them,” he says. “That’s how you get a new potato.”

Breeding a new cultivar starts in a greenhouse with about 200 varieties. “The first couple years are basic breeding, where you’re crossing parent plants and they’re producing true seed, and the seeds are put out in the field,” Czarnecki explains. “We keep producing seed for them. Each year is another cycle of field selection.”

Breeding a new potato is a long process, Ehrlich adds. “Potatoes are tetraploids – they have four sets of chromosomes – and it takes 14 to 16 years to develop a new variety of potato.”

The center’s greatest hits are largely specialty potatoes like Purple Majesty and Harvest Moon, along with a type of Norkotah released in the 1990s. “Their biggest success on the russet market has been the Norkotah,” Ehrlich says. “Purple Majesty is an interesting potato. It’s really high in antioxidants, meaning it’s really good for you to eat, but it doesn’t store well.”

CRISPR genome-editing technology could cut variety-development time in half, “but it’s not proven technology in potatoes yet,” Ehrlich says. “We’re trying to invest in newer breeding technology, not necessarily genetically modified but looking at molecular markers and things like that so we can identify genes. They know the potato genome now, so we can identify genes that would create better nutritional value and maybe resistance to disease. Breeding’s a big deal.”

Sheldon Rockey of Rockey Farms near Center is a third-generation potato farmer in the valley. “Our grandfather bought the first land that we farm now in 1938,” he says. “He actually made more income off of lambs than he did potatoes, but it’s always had potatoes on the ground since he bought it.”

Today, the operation plants 250 acres of potatoes very year, and rotates 250 acres as fallow to mitigate disease. Growing seed potatoes for other growers “from Maine to California” has been a big part of the business since the 1980s, Rockey says.

Because of this, Rockey Farms works closely with the research center on variety development and seed certification. “Variety development is their number-one output,” Rockey says. “It’s definitely been a good program. They’ve developed some good varieties,” highlighting Purple Majesty and Harvest Moon.

“Our biggest thing is making sure we establish good sustainability with the aquifer,” Rockey says. “It went down a lot in ’02, when we had the great drought or whatever you want to call it. It’s gone down, it’s come back, it’s gone down, it’s come back. We’re also pressured a little bit from outside to take water out of the aquifer and put it over on the other side of the mountains.”

He says Mexico represents an opportunity for Colorado’s potato growers, but the market is not open to U.S. exports. “If we can get past that, we would have another market we could ship to,” he says.

While potatoes have their critics, Ehrlich says much of the fault-finding is misguided. “They tend to be anti-french fry, which I get,” he notes. “Potatoes don’t actually make you fat. They’re actually a complex carb that you need in your diet. You need carbohydrates for brain health and for energy. Potatoes have more potassium than a banana and half your daily requirement of Vitamin C.”

And with the COVID-19 pandemic, he notes, “You’re seeing a definite appreciation for the food supply.”