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The architects became aware that there would be a significant cultural conflict in building a longhouse in an Athbascan area. Aaron Joseph, RIM's principal on the project, notes that those cultures had been at odds since before Western contact. That confrontational attitude is no longer as strong, but an element of territoriality still exists between Eskimo and Indian cultures.

One of the primary tenets of the ANSEP program is a sense of community and collective responsibility. Thus, the design process was an inclusive one involving not only university facilities people, architects, and engineers, but also students, local Athabaskan elders, and members of the local native business community.

This team sought values shared by the many Alaskan cultures in an effort to find common ground for the building's design. Despite the virtues of a democratic process, the idea for a solution came from one person — Margaret Nelson, a project manager with Rim Architects, who is descended from indigenous Alaskans.

After much discussion, Nelson suggested that the building could mimic the form of a canoe. All these cultures, Joseph explains, "depended on water in some way to exist, whether it was a river, lake, or ocean. As an engineering effort to navigate these waters, they had many types of vessels, but they all seemed to have canoes." The canoe is also a quintessential example of great engineering: its form has endured for centuries as one of beauty rooted in functionality.

Yet, despite agreeing on the referential form of the canoe, which seemed especially appropriate for the long, thin site, neither the architects nor the client groups wanted the ANSEP building to be cheeky or an ironic postmodern caricature.

So while the resemblance to the iconic but humble watercraft is indeed intentional, it is an allusion more than a reproduction. One could forget for a moment the canoe image and simply see a contemporary structure rooted in the needs and opportunities of its site and topography.

Traditionally, canoes have helped foster a sense of community. Village chiefs would initiate canoe or lodge building projects to overcome tribal unrest and reunite the community. This solution was therefore especially meaningful because the "canoe building" combined three ANSEP ideals: engineering, mentoring, and cooperation.

From Craft to Building

On the north end (the stern of the boat) is a large, double-height community room where mentors and students meet informally and where the school holds numerous presentations and banquets. At the south end (the bow) are several large classrooms. And between the two is the spine: a hallway with the administrative offices.

The long, thin form also takes maximum advantage of available daylight, known to improve student performance. Even in the middle of the building, one is never far from a window. This is especially important given Anchorage's latitude of 61 degrees north. The south-facing glass captures the limited winter daylight (5-1/2 hours per day in December). The south-facing glazing also invites in welcome solar heat.

The building's cantilevered form also provides an ideal vantage point from which to admire the river flowing by, where metaphor gives way to reality.

Inside, the theme of aquaculture is repeated in numerous subtle and sometimes whimsical ways. The legs of ordinary benches resemble the curves of bridges. Handrail mesh recalls fishing nets. There is also a collective sense of warmth achieved through the use of natural wood in places such as the central stairway, as well as a color palette of soft natural tones.

Outside, the client insisted on materials that would be maintenance free. "That was a tough one," Joseph says. "We wanted to use natural materials, but that was verboten." However, this restriction may have had a silver lining — or a gold one. Aside from a middle portion clad in a somewhat banal porcelain tile, the front and back of the building are wrapped in golden metal panels. This, along with the ample glass, is where the architecture asserts itself as more than an allusion to a canoe.

At the same time, the metaphorical aspects of the ANSEP building's shape have given the engineering program it houses a new sense of identity. To the students from an array of indigenous backgrounds planning to fuse their future as engineers and scientists with their heritage and ancestry, the school serves as a noble role model.

"Canoes are survival tools," Schroeder says. "We built the building as a place of safety and belonging for our campus, and it turns out they're studying and learning together within this traditional survival tool. A boat is also about a journey. They come as students, and they leave as scientists and engineers. They go there in the boat."   >>>

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Brian Libby is a Portland, Oregon-based freelance writer who has also published in Metropolis, The New York Times, Christian Science Monitor, and Architectural Record.

SUBSCRIPTION SAMPLE The Alaska Native Science & Engineering Program Building, by RIM Architects, on the campus of the University of Alaska Anchorage. Photo: Michael Dinneen Ceremony in the community gathering area. Photo: Michael Dinneen ANSEP building elevations. Image: RIM Architects A traditional Alaskan canoe, the building's inspiration, sits in the center of the dance floor of the building's community gathering area. Photo: Michael Dinneen A sunny recitation room overlooks the wooded campus. Photo: Michael Dinneen ANSEP building sections. Image: RIM Architects Lower floor plan. Image: RIM Architects Upper floor plan. Image: RIM Architects   Click on thumbnail images to view full-size pictures.