Surrounded by farmland with a citizenry of under 10,000 people, the Norwegian town of Brumunddal might seem such as an unlikely setting for a record-breaking high-rise.
But soaring above the neighboring Mjøsa lake, significantly more than 100 kilometers (62 miles) north of Oslo, the 280-foot-tall Mjøstårnet tower became the world’s tallest timber building when it opened last year.
The 18-story structure contains apartments, office space and the adeptly named Wood Hotel. And beyond putting a small town on the world map, it has added to an evergrowing body of evidence that timber can offer a sustainable alternative to concrete and steel.
Reaching 280 feet tall, Mjøstårnet became the world’s tallest timber building upon opening this past year.
Credit: Voll Arkitekter AS / RicardoFoto
“To get attention, you have to build tall,” said Øystein Elgsaas, a partner at the architecture practice behind the record-breaking tower, Voll Arkitekter, in a video call.
“And when you have the world’s tallest building made of timber, everybody says, ‘Wow, what’s going on in Norway?’ “
“People are interested, and that is actually the most important part of this building — to showcase that it is possible, and to inspire others to do the same.”
The record-breaking feat was realized thanks to a kind of engineered wood called cross-laminated timber, or CLT. Part of a bigger group of materials known as mass timber, it really is produced by gluing strips of laminated wood together at 90-degree angles to one another, before they’re compressed into huge beams or panels under extreme pressure.
The resulting wooden towers — sometimes dubbed “plyscrapers” — were once the preserve of conceptual designers. But as a result of changes in building regulations and shifting attitudes towards the material, they are quickly becoming a reality.
The tallest tower of the HoHo Vienna project in Austria reaches as much as 276 feet. Credit: HoHo Vienna / Michael Baumgartner / KiTO
Advocates for mass timber claim that, when compared with existing options, these towers are quicker to construct, stronger and, perhaps most surprisingly, safer in the event of a fire. It may, however, be their green credentials that explain wood’s rising popularity lately.
Designed by Acton Ostry Architects, the University of British Columbia’s student residence Brock Commons Tallwood House, in Vancouver, stands at 174 feet tall. Credit: Acton Ostry Architects/Michael Elkan
“Trees store carbon, so if you harvest them at the right age when they can’t absorb much more or grow much further, then it’s a better solution to use them as a building material,” said Elgsaas, adding that, if buildings were created with longevity in mind, they might keep the carbon out of the atmosphere for generations. “It prolongs the trees’ lifespans (before they decompose) by maybe 100 or 200 years, if done correctly.”
Cross-laminated timber has been used for low-rise buildings in European countries like Germany and Austria since the 1990s, and the environmental benefits of using mass timber have for ages been known.
So why the recent surge in interest?
A digital visualization of a 35-story prototype timber building, Proto-Model X, developed by Michael Green Architecture and Sidewalk Labs. Credit: Sidewalk Labs/Michael Green Architecture
As mass timber becomes increasingly common, more CLT factories are built and economies of scale reduce prices.
“There’s more knowledge in the marketplace, more competition, more supply chains … At the time of my Ted talk there was no real infrastructure,” Green said over the phone. “Incrementally, as were seeing more competition, the cost is coming down.”
However, the cost of cross-laminated timber has fallen in recent years and is now “at par” with conventional materials, Green said. Likewise, Elgsaas reported that the developer behind Norway’s Mjøstårnet tower found the final sum to be “about the same” as a steel and concrete alternative.
A prefabricated panel is lifted in to place throughout the construction of Brock Commons Tallwood House in Vancouver. Credit: Acton Ostry Architects/Pollux Chung
But savings can be found in alternative methods, he said in a phone interview. In particular, the power to prefabricate, or factory-build, wooden components ensures that other construction costs may possibly fall.
“If you can make it quicker and open the building quicker, you don’t need to loan the money for as long and can get a return on investment quicker,” said Oldfield, who also authored the 2019 book “The Sustainable Tall Building: A Design Primer,” adding: “What we’re finding is driving timber is less the sustainability benefits, and more the benefit to the contractors and clients.”
For Green, the real tipping point will come perhaps not when timber is just as inexpensive — however when it’s cheaper.
“We’re not at the point where (timber is) cheaper,” that he said. “And we want it to be cheaper because, at the end of the day, that’s what governs the entire industry — the cheapest solution.
“We need certainly to solve climate change by making things more affordable, perhaps not by asking people to suck it up and pay more, as it doesn’t work.”
A digital rendering of PLP Architecture’s bold proposal for a 984-foot-tall tower in the heart of London. Credit: PLP Architecture
But while these architects plainly believe in mass timber’s structural potential, there remain very practical barriers to the realization of such projects: building regulations.
The changes should come into effect in 2021 — though they are only advisory. Some countries, such as for instance Norway, already has looser height restrictions in place, while other countries and US states may possibly opt for tighter building codes than those outlined in the IBC.
And there remains limited data about how precisely large wooden towers will respond, in the long-term, to many different risks, from extreme weather to termites and damp.
Supporters of mass timber, however, contend it’s not only safe — is in reality preferable, as wood burns up in a far more predictable way.
The main tower of the Sara Cultural Centre in Skellefteå, Sweden, will become among the world’s tallest mass timber structures when it opens in 2021. Credit: White Arkitekter
Green compares mass timber to a large log positioned on a campfire — it does not catch light immediately, plus it burns slowly once it will.
“In a large catastrophic fire, generally, in the event that you ask firefighters to enter a heavy timber building pitched against a steel building, they would much rather enter (the former),” he said. “Because even though the beams are charred, they can quickly tell simply how much char, and so how much leftover wood, there’s.”
Regulations invariably lag behind technology, Elgsaas added, with each completed tower assisting to ease concerns around efficacy and safety.
“The more buildings we see that push the limit, the easier it will be to propose new building codes and raise the bar on what’s possible,” he said.
With shifts in regulation, should come a transformation in cultural attitudes toward wood, Green argues. While a proceed to timber architecture could represent the most fundamental change in exactly how we construct skyscrapers since the early 20th century, in places with long tradition of wooden buildings, such as for instance northern Europe or North America, it could be less a revolution and much more a renaissance.
“We used to build big, giant wood buildings in North America and around the world, but we really stopped when concrete came about,” Green explained, adding that large city fires dampened enthusiasm for the material. In the 1840s, the decade that reinforced concrete was invented, New York, Pittsburgh, St. Louis and Toronto were all devastated by blazes that quickly spread through densely-packed timber-frame buildings.
“There were some big city fires, and naturally we said, ‘Well, let’s perhaps not build with combustible materials any more’ (…) We knew we could build these big buildings, but we just stopped discussing it.”
Related video: Japan’s wood-roofed National Stadium opens ahead of Tokyo 2020 Olympics
In hyper-modern cities with little history of building with wood, like Shenzhen or Dubai as an example, there may be limited enthusiasm about its reunite. Winning developers and architects over, Green argued, should revolve around what that he sees as timber’s design advantages.
“Reframing the notions of what modernity is, what forms should be, why is people much more comfortable and why is the quality of space better, must be associated with human problems — of feeling less stressed, being healthier, being more productive, learning quicker,” he said. “These need to be the defining principles of good design.”
Elgsaas also attests to the psychological great things about wood. He describes Mjøstårnet’s exposed wood columns, using their organic appearance and differing grain patterns, as possessing a particular character that uniform concrete simply cannot achieve.
“The people living, staying and working there say it feels much cleaner, you might say,” that he said.
Despite growing enthusiasm for wooden high-rises, long-term environmental challenges remain. For one, if mass timber would be to deliver its purported carbon savings, the trees used must be sourced from sustainable forests, said UNSW’s Oldfield.
“If CLT is going to be a significant building material for us in the next 30 years, we need to start planting the trees now,” he added. “We viewed how much timber we would need if, by 2050 say, 30% of new buildings were created from CLT — and we’re talking about growing a brand-new forest of 100-by-100-kilometers.
“And there are big questions about whether you should even build forests like that, as they are mono-cultures, whereas natural forests have biodiversity.”
Japanese company Sumitomo Forestry plans to spend 600 billion yen ($5.6 billion) to construct a 1,148-foot-tall wooden skyscraper in 2041 to mark its 350th anniversary. Credit: Sumitomo Forestry Co., Ltd.
Oldfield’s research also raises another long-term question that really needs addressing: What happens to the sequestered carbon when the building is sooner or later knocked down, even if it’s decades or centuries later? And does this negate the great things about using the material in the first place?
“If you bury the timber elements and they decompose — or if you burn the building at the end of its life — you leak that carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere,” he said.
Tackling these questions are for the years and decades ahead. For now, however, it would appear that cost-shy developers are considering the material’s many possibilities. Architect Elgsaas said timber proved itself the best fit for Mjøstårnet — but he keeps an open mind about how precisely the skyscrapers of the future may be built.
“I’m perhaps not taking sides — I’m not pro-wood, or pro-concrete,” he said. “I think it is important that we use the right material for the right job.”
This article was updated with details of Sidewalk Labs’ Toronto project.