Monthly Archives: November 2010

The Future in a Tiny Sphere

Blaine Brownell | November 26, 2010 - 11:29 am

Online Exclusive: A conversation with Yoshinobu Tsujikawa, Kyosemi Corporation.

Japan currently leads the world in solar power technology. Japan not only produces half the total solar cells made in the world, it also exports 30% of these cells, with expected demand for 20% increases per year. Japan-based companies have advanced not only conventional photovoltaic cell production, but also novel methods for harnessing solar energy. Kyosemi Corporation’s Sphelar technology consists of a matrix of tiny, spherical-shaped solar cells. The spheres are designed to absorb sunlight at any angle, and therefore do not require motorization for tracking the sun. Based on their geometry, Sphelar cells even optimize the use of reflected and indirect light, and have been shown to convert energy with close to 20% efficiency – beyond most flat photovoltaic technologies. Its flexible disposition also makes Sphelar appropriate for applications at a variety of scales, including facade glazing and mobile electronic devices.

Sphelar die module. Photo: Kyosemi Corporation.

Please tell me about your career history.

Before I joined Kyosemi, I worked at Mitsubishi Chemical Industry, which has a partnership with Monsanto. I actually visited the Monsanto headquarters in St. Louis thirty years ago, and I had much training in gallium arsenide-based semiconductors. Mitsubishi Monsanto Chemical Corporation is located in Tsukuba, and I produced single crystalline gallium arsenide, gallium arsenide phosphide vapor phase technology, and gallium arsenide substrates, which are used to emit light.

When did you join Kyosemi?

In May of 2002. At that time, I transferred to Hokkaido Semiconductor, and in 2003, I returned to Kyosemi Corporation. That same year, Kyoto Semiconductor changed its name to Kyosemi Corporation. I have since been involved in developing solar technologies at Kyosemi Corporation.

What is the relationship with Hokkaido Semiconductor?

It is a subsidiary of Kyoto Semiconductor—a factory located in Kamisuganawa which manufactures LEDs and photodiodes. The microgravity utilization center is in Eniwa city.

How has the solar (and semiconductor) industry changed since the beginning of your career? Has the technology become more efficient?

The efficiency is related to the physical properties of the particular cell used. Depending on whether you are studying single crystalline silicon, amorphous silicon, or polycrystalline silicon, the efficiency of energy conversion is different.

Comparison with flat solar cell. Illustration: Kyosemi Corporation.

When was Sphelar first developed?

Kyoto Semiconductor was founded in 1980. Founder and CEO Josuke Nakata began developing an idea for a spherical solar cell in 1993 when he was in the Kamisunagawa district in Hokkaido. Sphelar is the first spherical single crystalline semiconductor to be grown under micro-gravity conditions, and it has an energy-conversion efficiency of close to 20% in the laboratory. At the time Nakata was conducting his preliminary experiments with Sphelar, he was invited by the Kamisunagawa governor to discuss this new energy technology in light of the Hokkaido coal plant closures ordered by the Japanese government.

What year was this?

Between 1980 and 1990, Japan decided to curtail coal production because of its nature as a dirty and limited resource. Unfortunately, many coal miners lost their jobs, and they could not easily transition to other work. The local government has been consulting with a variety of experts regarding suitable replacements to coal energy.

The coal workers who lost their jobs—can they work in a new industry?

The fabrication and assembly of our technology is mainly carried out in Eniwa, which is an urban location. Most of the coal mines were located in the countryside. Also, we are planning to transfer the assembly of our products to foreign countries, to be closest to the consumer.

Japan is currently the leading producer of solar technology in the world. Could you speak more about the government’s support for solar energy?

When the coal mines were shut down, NEDO (the New Energy and Industrial technology Development Organization) was born. NEDO is Japan’s largest public R&D management organization for promoting the development of advanced industrial, environmental, new energy and energy conservation technologies, and they give generous support in the form of grants to select companies who are developing promising new technologies.

Does the Japanese government continue to support your research & development efforts?

Yes, Kyosemi continues to receive funding from NEDO. They support our exhibitions in various conferences and expositions.

I read recently that China is becoming a more capable player in the solar arena. Would Kyosemi Corporation entertain partnering with a Chinese manufacturer? Perhaps you could decrease your manufacturing costs.

Many people think that is a good idea, and we have considered it. However, Sino-Japanese relations are still tenuous in terms of sharing intellectual property, so we will abstain for now.

I read that Japan wants 10% of its energy to come from solar power in 2030.

According projections by Mizuho Securities, Japan will be able to generate 5 GW from solar power by 2010 based on the current growth rate. That compares favorably with 3 GW projected for Europe.

By 2020, Europe is expected to produce 35 GW, and China 2 GW of solar power. Why is there no projection for Japan according to this study?

It is a matter of national character. China and European countries have many policies based on extrapolating current data.

Do the Japanese think this kind of policy is important?

Yes, but Japan is conservative because we have no idea what 2020 will bring, especially since Japan’s resources are very limited, and it is difficult to predict how the peak oil crisis will affect world energy markets.

Where is Sphelar currently used?

Originally, we wanted to install Sphelar modules on building rooftops, but the assembly of rooftop installations proved to be difficult. Moreover, it was complicated to make such systems, which tend to be large in scale. Therefore, we have shifted our focus to the development of small, low power applications such as portable consumer electronics.

Such as wearable solar-powered devices?

Wearable is a good idea, but the problem there is durability. Clothes move a lot and require washing, so the wiring becomes the weak link.

SphelarVoice technology. Photo: Blaine Brownell.

Then what kind of applications?

SphelarVoice is one example. Laurie Anderson designed a device called the AimuletLA for the Aichi Expo in 2005, and it utilizes SphelarVoice technology. The AimuletLA is a small device, slightly larger than a credit card, which enables visitors to learn information about their environment. While the device delivers a low-volume audio signal to the user, it requires no battery. One may simply point the AimuletLA at an item of interest in an exhibition powered by SphelarVoice technology, and infrared light projected by Sphelar modules carries audio information that is decoded by the card. The AimuletLA is perfect for museum tours, for example, because visitors may hear guided audio information without worrying about bulky devices or batteries. This technology is now commercialized and has become very popular.

Sphelar bracelets. Photo: Blaine Brownell.

The low-power technology is very beautiful. What about jewelry? Until now, jewelry has only been art. If it could also generate energy, it would be very interesting—”functioning body art?” Maybe you could do a Sphelar fashion show and Japanese designers could create jewelry with it.

That is an interesting notion. Kyosemi has been developing the technology for more pragmatic applications thus far. For example, we have produced hearing aids for indigenous people in Africa. The Sphelar-powered hearing devices assist communication by transmitting audio vibrations via bone in the ear canal.

What about larger scales?

Sphelar dome modules may be connected to form a network, and they can communicate to each other via electro-waves. Applications include crop monitoring in agriculture, site security, handicapped access, and visitor way-finding. Like SphelarVoice, visitors can learn information about a particular context, whether at the scale of an exhibition or a city. We call it a Sensornet, or sensor network, which is inherently battery-free. Have you heard of ubiquitous computing? I heard the word “pervasive?” is more popular in the West, but we Japanese like “ubiquitous.”

Sphelar dome module. Photo: Kyosemi Corporation.

What about cars? Could they utilize Sphelar technology?

I think so, but we are not currently studying that. There is certainly a possibility, however.

Are you considering integration in buildings again?

Yes, the development of building-integrated photovoltaics (BIPVs) is our final goal, but it requires a large area of the Sphelar modules. We are currently struggling with how to assemble these modules in such a large area. Eventually, we hope to increase the size of the Sphelar arrays up to the scale of utility plants and power stations.

Usually BIPVs are used in windows.

Yes, we have a flexible substrate with integrated solar spheres which we call the Sphelar Window.

Sphelar window flexible substrate. Photo: Kyosemi Corporation.

What if, as opposed to glass, Sphelar could be integrated with other building materials, such as concrete or other opaque products? After all, buildings are clad with many other materials which might be utilized to harness solar energy.

This is a good idea. Some researchers from Denmark asked us to collaborate to integrate Sphelar modules in concrete, but we had no idea how to do it at the time. Unfortunately our grant fell through, but if we have the chance again, we would like to try this kind of project. Some architects in Spain are installing dome modules all over buildings, perhaps in the tradition of the flamboyant architect Gaudi.

Looking at your growth projections, the scale gradually increases, doesn’t it? Is Hokkaido the number one fabrication location?

Yes, for Sphelar cells. We are also studying the assembly of Sphelar cells for these applications in Hokkaido, and eventually assembly will move to the consumer end.

Your technology works at a variety of scales. What if you linked them all? Low-power consumer electronics connected to sensornets connected to BIPvs… it could be interesting.

Yes. Currently we are focused on providing energy necessary for life, but eventually we hope to enter the realm of art.

Sphelar flexible substrate detail. Photo: Blaine Brownell.

Read other conversations in the book Matter in the Floating World, published by Princeton Architectural Press.

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Connective Tissue

Blaine Brownell | November 19, 2010 - 11:00 am

A conversation with Shuhei Endo, Shuhei Endo Architect Institute.

For Shuhei Endo, continuity is everything. In his architecture, he strives to make connections between inside and outside, large and small, space and material, and gesture and form. Inspired by the traditional Japanese calligraphy technique called renmentai, in which the brush doesn’t leave the paper, Endo treats material as a fluid gesture and folds space in upon itself. Inscribed by humble industrial materials like corrugated steel, rooms, entrances, and apertures seem to emerge effortlessly out of the landscape and form a completely interconnected experience.

Springtecture H. Photo: Yoshiharu Matsumura.

I am intrigued by your invention of the word “paramodernism.” How do you define this term?

That is an extremely difficult question. Because paramodernism is a new concept, I cannot explain it easily. Para comes from parallel, and is used as a prefix to indicate the possibility for another type of modernism. Could there be another modernism? Could the two terms be used in concomitance? If so, let’s call this new term “paramodern.” For me, modernism is like the Japanese term kangen-shugi, which means atomism, or rather, Platonism.1 If you look at it this way, it has the same meaning—things are divided, small ideas are discovered, parts are divided again, and new ideas are formulated.

In creating architecture, however, this kind of atomism is not present. Architecture is not a composition. Architecture without composition is when there is a thread, there is a needle, and there is a mountain. It is not composed of small parts, but rather a collection of related ideas. This is where space and architecture can emerge. This is what I strive for. This is paramodernism. My architecture is connected, or rather, the outside and inside are connected, and the private and the public areas are connected. There is no break. I am thinking of the possibility for an architecture that is not composed of smaller pieces.

Springtecture H. Photo: Yoshiharu Matsumura.

Do you feel it is necessary to create a new vocabulary to describe your work—terms like Springtecture, Bubbletecture, and so on?

First, paramodernism is a gainen, or concept. Architecture is not a concept; rather, it is a thing, an object. As a result, when I think of one project or another, the place, client, and function each differ—they all vary. In these situations, the single concept of paramodernism is not a sufficient descriptor. Springtecture emerged, for example, when I designed a set of projects with a springlike feeling. The springlike framework and the building methods central to these works warranted a merger of the words “spring” and “architecture” to make Springtecture. Similarly, I coined the term Bubbletecture for projects conceived around the structure of a bubble.

Therefore, as a basic concept, paramodernism describes the architectural approach in general terms. However, there are distinctions within this application. I think of architecture in this context of combined levels.

Bubbletecture H. Photo: Yoshiharu Matsumura.

It is interesting that these new terms embody dynamic structural concepts. For example, “spring” describes a structure locked in a permanent state of outward thrust, while “bubble” indicates a delicate shell of minimal substance enclosing a maximum volume. These different material-related themes connect structure to program, and also result in a highly varied collection of work that lacks a singular identity. When clients request a Frank Gehry building, for example, they have a particular image in mind, based on the fact that Gehry’s work is so recognizable. In your case, however, the projects are highly diverse and do not conform to one kind of approach.

Architecture is an extremely diverse thing. Clients and sites vary. Therefore, each building should yield many ideas.

Springtecture B. Photo: Yoshiharu Matsumura.

Once you begin working on a project, when do you decide what type of approach you will devise? When, for example, do you realize “Oh, this is Springtecture”?

I usually decide after I have seen the site. Then I think about what would be best after learning the functional program.

One interest I have is the strategy of material programming—the process of conceptualizing, selecting, and deploying materials in the physical environment. Given your structural and material-related design approaches, I would say that your process incorporates a kind of site inspired material program. When you look at a building site, what forces do you consider? Does your work seek a particular relationship with nature, for example?

Gravity is related to the idea of nature. Wind increases, waves get larger, and trees grow due to gravity. Gravity affects the state of nature. Therefore, although architecture is specifically made for human beings, it is always affected by natural forces. It is through the consideration of gravity that I get closer to understanding the natural condition. Modernism is human-centered, but does not consider gravity in terms of recognizing larger environmental forces. However, paramodernism seeks to create a relationship with gravity. Thus, it is a type of modernism that has a relationship with nature. My intent is not to make something close to nature, but the result is close to nature.

Transtation O. Photo: Yoshiharu Matsumura.

[Transcription and translation by Suma Pandhi.]

Read the rest of this conversation in the book Matter in the Floating World: Conversations with Leading Japanese Architects and Designers, published by Princeton Architectural Press.

1. Kangen-shugi also means reductionism.

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The Sound of Material

Blaine Brownell | November 12, 2010 - 12:25 pm

A conversation with Masayo Ave, MasayoAve creation.

Masayo Ave is an embodiment of cultural and disciplinary synthesis. One of Japan’s most intriguing design exports, Ave has practiced in Japan and Europe, and she brings expertise in architecture, product design, landscape, fashion, and lighting design to her work. In projects ranging from everyday objects to architecture, she seeks to expose the emotional value lying hidden within materials, and has led a number of workshops focused on design-related material research. For Ave, design is a process of discovery in which she thoroughly studies a material in order to optimize its potential. She argues that design is a profoundly multisensory experience, and her ongoing experiments with haptic learning promise to break new ground for material applications.

Hattifatteners Hanging Light. Photo: Ave Design Corporation.

Throughout your career, you have trained in a variety of design disciplines and established your base location in several different countries. As a budding designer, did you know you would embark upon such a colorful journey?

I had been aware that travel would enrich although I did not have any clear picture about how this would happen in the beginning. I have built a career by “sniffing and scratching,” which is my intrinsic nature, and the wide range of activities I have engaged in as a designer is simply the result of small, incremental steps over the course of the last two decades.

I am interested in your first step—what inspired you to move to Italy from Japan?

I wanted to move to Milan in 1989 in order to join the experimental master’s program in industrial design at the Domus Academy. I did not have any preconception about Italian design, mostly because I was educated as an architect in Japan during the mid-1980s—a period that predated the “Italian culture boom” there. I had a basic knowledge about historical architecture in Italy, but I was actually more interested in modern masterpieces by Scandinavian architects such as Alvar Aalto, or European design movements such as the Vienna Secession or the Bauhaus. However, by experiencing Italy without any preconception—not falling blindly in love with Italian design from a distance—I was able to discover the true essence of Italian design purely with my own eyes. I could also analyze and value Italian design rationally within the wider context of European design culture in general. I considered Milan—where I lived from 1990 to 2005—to be a hub in which I could learn about other European cultures and engage the broader environment of Europe as much as possible. Since 2005, Berlin has become my new European hub, and I have also frequented Tallinn in Estonia for a two-year professorship. It has been fascinating to discover different parts of Europe in this way, although I feel that I am still in the middle of my colorful journey.

Toft Cushion. Photo: Ave Design Corporation.

I can imagine that such a broad perspective derived from operating in different countries would greatly enhance one’s work. I am also interested in your knowledge of multiple disciplines. How might your experience with architecture affect your design of a light fixture, for example?

I consider products to be mini-architecture, which I can build at 1:1 scale on my worktable. I think my design method is always based on the discipline of the architect. I also consider products to be part of the space in which humans carry out their daily lives. It is difficult for me to start designing a single product before getting a picture of the ambience in which the product will exist—not only the user’s environment but also the temporary storehouse of the factory, shop, or even the space of the transport container. Throughout my career, I have noticed that many trained designers can start designing once they have a clear picture of the user.

I wonder if this particular regard for “product space” in the design process is especially Japanese? Despite the fact that you have lived in Europe for many years now, would you say that part of your work is still inherently Japanese?

The answer is definitely yes! Something very Japanese always reveals itself in my design work and reveals my Japanese identity no matter where I am.

Filly Table Cover. Photo: Ave Design Corporation.

Interesting! On this note, I wonder if you could describe the fourteen-hundred-year old Japanese art of shibori, or “shaped-resist” textiles?1 How did you utilize this process to make your shaped-resist polyester products, such as the Hattifatteners hanging light or Ninni floor light, for example? In what ways did you modernize the process?

I studied the traditional Japanese shibori textile technique in 1993 and 1994. Meanwhile, I got to know about an advanced shaped-resist technique used to fix flexible three-dimensional textures permanently within textiles. I became fascinated with the idea to apply this technique to interior items, as I felt that the texture could make products feel naturally alive, even if synthetic fibers were used in making the textiles. So, I made a lot of experiments with shaped-resist textiles in order to understand how to achieve this quality of being alive. I recognized that this character could easily be killed, however, if manipulated in the wrong way. I knew that I needed to learn the best way to bring out the intrinsic character of the material—which is actually the key to approaching any material in design.

In the years that followed—from 1995 to 1997—I realized models of handicraft textile applications in lighting and furniture—such as the Mimura floor lamp, the Toft cushion, and the Filly table cover, in addition to Hattifatteners and Ninni. I realized the key to optimizing volume and handling light effectively by making models, and I also applied the method to create the Genesi light using open-cell polyester foam. Actually, I always consider Ninni to be the mother of Genesi. In my design process, low-tech practices often create the sparks that initiate work with high-tech materials, and that’s why I always experiment with both methods.

Genesi Light. Photo: Ave Design Corporation.

Corona di Muse. Photo: Ave Design Corporation.

Read the rest of this conversation in the book Matter in the Floating World: Conversations with Leading Japanese Architects and Designers, published by Princeton Architectural Press.

1. Shibori, or shiborizome, is a Japanese method of dyeing cloth dating to the eighth century that involves folding, binding, twisting, and other physical manipulations.

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