art

727 readers
1 users here now

Wecome to the art community of solarpunk, where we host any and all forms of art related to solarpunk!

Remember to follow the instance rules when interacting, and also:

-Cite the author whenever possible, or state it as unknown when unsure.

-This is an art community, for other aesthetic related things, check out our sister community /c/aesthetic.

-Keep it SFW.

Hope you enjoy your time here! :D

As a last thing, kindly reminder that solarpunk is not just a form of artwork/aesthetic, but also a mindset and a movemet. For more on this, you can check our community /c/solarpunk.

Icon artwork by tk-sketches

Banner artwork by 六七質

founded 3 years ago
MODERATORS
76
77
78
 
 

Another winter (technically spring) solarpunk scene, this time centered around passive greenhouses. The idea is that since the sun will mostly be coming from one direction in colder climates, you surround the other sides with brick or concrete walls, which absorb heat during the day and radiate it at night (which is when you cover over the plastic). The first time I saw an article about this design I was amazed I’d never considered how poorly standard greenhouses fit our use case up here. I worked on a farm for years growing up and we heated about half of them at least through December. Single or double ply plastic sheets and corrugated white plastic siding nailed to stick frame walls on the ends. Garage doors only on either end. I can’t imagine how much they cost to heat. It’s that one-size-fits-all-just-burn-more-gas approach I think a solarpunk society should reconsider wherever it finds it.

In the photobash, I set these greenhouses into a south-facing hill, to further regulate their temperature. I also included a couple examples of passive heat – black painted water tanks and water barrels, to absorb sunlight and radiate warmth at night, along with bins of compost or manure, which put out both heat and CO2 as they decompose (making up for the lack of an oil furnace exhausting into the space to boost CO2). Some farms further boost the heat and CO2 by sheltering animals inside.

The top greenhouse would run cooler, and has cole crops (kohlrabi, cabbage, ad broccoli) and beans and potatoes in it. The lower house is hotter and has tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, and peppers.

The lights are almost entirely for artistic reasons – my favorite winter scenes have the warm yellow light of human spaces contrasted with the almost monochrome blues of the winter outside. I wanted to do a solarpunk scene with that, and the greenhouses were a good fit. (Worst case, we’ll say they’re trying to extend the daylight hours a little). The design in this one likely isn’t perfect – I’ve only ever seen photos of the real thing, and the ones shown online vary but most are much larger than these modest greenhouses. I also didn’t get to include seedbeds, which would probably be the main priority this time of year. Presumably, they have deer fences erected further out.

79
 
 

Made in response to this post – on the realization that there aren’t many examples of solarpunk art set in winter.

One thing I've been considering is if snow rollers, or a modern take on packing down snow instead of plowing it out of the way, might make a comeback in a society with fewer cars and snowy winters. Around here, they used to use sleighs in the winter, and snow rollers pulled by oxen to flatten the roads for travel. The idea of shoveling an entire road bare so you could drive on it would probably have seemed pretty extravagant to them.

It’s an idea that’s been rattling around in my head for awhile. There’s a sizable contingent in solarpunk spaces who are very much in favor of society deprioritizing cars and focusing on trains and other public transit options. If our solarpunk society has resource limitations, as most societies do, and they're prioritizing big infrastructure stuff like trains, ropeways, etc, it's possible that roads would fall apart pretty quick.

Around here at least, roads, bridges, etc require constant maintenance to remain anywhere approaching drivable. Winter breaks them with frost heaves and potholes, spring turns their footings to muddy slop or washes them away in floods. The maintenance is constant and expensive.

I feel like a society where most people take the train, and ride bikes, would find themselves wondering why they need to maintain a lot of these roads to a drivable level. Especially if this solarpunk community is rebuilding after our current society goes through a span of societal crumbles and leaves them with even more infrastructure debt. I tend to set these pictures in that period of post-post-apoclyptic rebuilding, after places like my hometown have already condensed back towards smaller, denser villages, rather than the sprawling pseudo-suburbia we have now. (Out of necessary due to societal crumbles and cars/gas becoming less reliable.) Towns here used to have multiple small clumps of houses and industry built around walking, with big spans of farms and forest between them where you'd catch a wagon or car ride to a town with a train station.

So in this setting, I imagine trains and ropeways link these small, dense villages. Primary roads to other towns are maintained, along with ones leading to nearby farms, but there are probably a lot of abandoned developments an impractical distance out, linked by roads that have been mostly left to break up and wash out just because the society doesn’t have the means or a strong reason to maintain them. Perhaps they’re letting some areas rewild, maybe they only make jaunts out on these old roads to disassemble houses for all their useful parts, and to return the lots to nature.

I imagine that sometimes, the ropeways don’t follow the main roads. Perhaps they take more direct routs, or cross spans where bridges have collapsed and haven’t been replaced. Most of the time they’d follow some kind of road, just because that makes it easier for the work crews who build and maintain them, but perhaps these roads aren’t active enough to justify plowing all winter. Seasonality is a good concept for solarpunk societies, I feel like a solarpunk society would consider seasonal means of travel.

I imagine a lot of these secondary roads are used as winter trails, packed down with snow groomers and traveled by people on cross country skis, snowshoes, sleighs, perhaps electric snowmobiles or those bicycle/sled contraptions.

That’s where I set this one. A seasonal road used as a winter trail, followed for some of its course by a ropeway. On either end of that cable, the villages are lit and warm, their streets plowed, but out here, its just the quiet static hiss of snow falling, the creak of the pulleys overhead, and the rumbling of the groomer crew making a pass to pack the trail.

This image and all the postcards are CC-BY, use them how you like.

80
 
 

A quick one based on u/Sam-Nales's comment about combining airship mooring masts with screw conveyors/screw elevators similar to those used by grain silos on my last post over on reddit. I talked it over with the folks on the farming community: https://slrpnk.net/post/3643695 and feel like there's a definite place for grain and silos in a solarpunk world. This was a quick one, the zoomed out scenes often are.

I'm not sure a mooring mast is entirely necessary here, with the big, recently-reaped fields to land on, but perhaps this farm is using a system compatible to other farms nearby who use more agroforestry, and wouldn't necessarily like having to clear a patch of empty land just for landing airships

81
11
submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 
 

Another glance at the more industrial parts of this solarpunk future. This one was inspired by the absolutely massive mountain of clothes which has been dumped, brand new and unsold, in the Atacama desert in Chile. The product of our society’s fast fashion industry and the complexities of our supply chains, a tremendous amount of energy and water is wasted producing these clothes, more energy is wasted shipping them, and then yet more is spent to haul them into the desert where they smother the landscape and ecosystem in cheap synthetic materials.

One of my overarching goals with this series is to show a society institutionally focused on reuse, rather than extraction and production. A society that thinks further ahead than we do, which produces what it needs, and thinks carefully about how to use and reuse and repurpose what it makes. A society where the wealth of usable product we currently throw away is treated like a natural resource to be found and traded between peoples engaged in the thousand year cleanup. I hope that in this future, the fast fashion industry is long dead, and that whatever demand for its products remains can be met using the absurd backlog of clothes produced unnecessarily and heaped in the driest desert in the world.

Which brings me to my other goal for this photobash. I’ve been wanting to do a scene with airships ever since the discussion we had here. In fact, I’ll probably do a few. Despite seeing relatively little use, airship design has advanced tremendously in the last hundred years. Improved materials have allowed them to take more effective shapes, and improved engines, motors, batteries, and computer systems, have made them much easier to control. While reading about historical airships, I was struck by the risk in doing almost anything with them, but especially by landing – which often required ground crews (‘landing parties’) of hundreds of men who would by strength of muscle, pull the thing down to the ground. By contrast, modern airships can land themselves right on the ground.

They also have pretty good potential as a sort of closed-loop system: If you covered the top of an airship with solar panels, you would have significant generation capacity, especially above the clouds (solar panels work better in the cold). You could use this to drive electric motors, and excess power could be used to generate hydrogen for both lift and fuel. This just needs water, which also makes an excellent ballast.

Helium is another option, but it’s a limited resource which, as I understand it, requires drilling to obtain.

Airships could open up some really cool possibilities: while they lack the speed of a jet, they have more capacity, and lower fuel requirements. While they lack the sheer capacity of a container ship, they're a lot faster and use way less fuel. They can also fly over land, meaning they can reach all kinds of places ships can't, and cut long detours around continents. Basically, container ships might be able to carry more, but they’re not as good at going from Boston to Seattle, and they suck at getting to Kansas City. What’s more, airships can act as flying cranes, lifting bulky objects like wind turbines or assembled buildings right over obstacles, and to places where roads or trains simply couldn’t carry them.

For the layout of this airshipyard, I decided that though modern airships can just land on the ground, the process of clearing and building a landing pad is environmentally destructive enough that this society would probably want to prioritize lower-impact mooring masts for waiting airships, and build just enough pads to match their loading capacity. This definitely wasn’t just because mooring masts, with the airships weathervaning around their tops in the wind, are tremendously cool. Or because the ugly metal towers reinforce some themes I've been playing with, trying to show that even in an aspirational solarpunk future, there are going to be places that don't look aesthetic but where utilitarian, practical designs make the most sense, and can have a beauty of their own.

I also included a massive airship shed, as I thought that even a smaller shipyard like this might need a maintenance capability and shelter for damaged airships grounded in bad weather. I’m not sure how well they could service the variety of craft currently moored, but hopefully with modern technology they can make it work. I imagine that the main airship yards would be located at major cities, and that these airships have already dropped off cargoes from their own points of origin, and are here to collect old world clothing and materials made from clothing.

The airships themselves are mostly pulled from modern designs and prototypes, with solar panels added to their tops. I’m particularly fond of ones like the Flying Whale on the top right, which can apparently work like a flying crane and winch cargo directly into the hold without landing.

Once this cleanup is complete, the mooring towers and buildings can be partially disassembled, and carried to the next place using the airships themselves. Hopefully all that will be left behind is the footings of the towers and a concrete slab in the desert with a plaque which reads something like ‘On this spot old world corporations made an ungodly mess. And generations of people worked hard to clean it up.’

This image, and the rest of the postcards are all CC-BY, use them how you want. Also: big thanks to @loopgru @Five, and @[email protected] for telling me enough about airships to get started on this one!

82
 
 

This is my second, slightly more serious photobash of a ropeway.

Like I said before, I really like the idea that the rural towns in this setting all have some kind of reliable public transit option - the larger ones (or ones conveniently placed) are linked by high speed rail, and others nearby might link to those (and to eachother) with ropeways. Easier/cheaper to set up over rough terrain, great view, and pretty reliable - you always know there’s another car coming.

Given the distances between rural towns, I feel like they might need to run several ropeways to cover the distance. Ideally the terminals (the ends of the ropeway) would be in a town, but sometimes, like here, they may just be up in the mountains, which I think could provide a really cool option for a sort of local community hub in an otherwise fairly inaccessible place. (From a bit of reading about ropeways, my understanding is that the drive is at one end, and the other just has the mechanisms for unhooking and rehooking the cabs, and comms back to the drive - if that's the case, then the main motors and power supplies would be in the towns at either end, leaving this spot fairly uncluttered). A basic transfer station might just have the two ropeway terminals and perhaps some restrooms, but I feel like really nice ones could be this sort of base camp and waystation for hikers, rock climbers, and other people enjoying the outdoors. It might have some kind of communal dining hall, bathrooms, perhaps even sleeping quarters. People might hike up to this spot for lunch, or start their adventure here. Or, if they've been hiking from peak to peak for weeks, they might rest up or even catch a ropeway down into a town to resupply.

83
84
 
 

I've been working on a photobash of a rural village for the last couple weeks - it's in a more realistic style and has lots and lots of elements, so it's taking forever and I'm sick of looking at it. So today I took a break and banged this out.

Povoq suggested ropeways (which I grew up calling gondolas, thinking of them as a ski mountain thing) when I was asking for ideas for the village. They're a great transportation option, so I added one to it, but I got thinking about other scenes I could do with the concept. One of those ideas was a kind of peaceful scene of a ropeway at night, each cab lit up like string lights. This came out pretty much how I was picturing it (as much as I picture anything visually).

I really like the idea that the rural towns in this setting all have some kind of reliable public transit option - the larger ones (or ones conveniently placed) are linked by high speed rail, and others nearby might link to those (and to eachother) with ropeways. Easier/cheaper to set up over rough terrain, great view, and pretty reliable - you always know there's another car coming.

Going into the city might mean riding the ropeway to the next town (perhaps changing cars/lines at a transfer station, where there's a lodge with bathrooms and perhaps a diner) and then getting on a high speed train. Once in the city, a network of streetcars could get you the rest of the way. Or these might be a fun option for slow travel - hiking from town to town, and if you pull a muscle or it's raining, or you just want to enjoy the view, you hop on a ropeway and watch the mountains go by. Long spans like this would obviously be pretty rare, most ropeways I've seen hug the ground, raised on tall poles, but they make postcards of the really cool looking stuff, so I figure this could be one of those cases.

85
 
 

Found this on an old device. If anyone knows the original artist, please do let me know so I can give credit.

86
19
Solarpunk Houses (www.artstation.com)
submitted 2 years ago by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
87
4
submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 
 

88
33
submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 
 

nobonzo.com

89
8
submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 
 

I’ve been thinking a lot about how lifestyles, routines, and the overall pace of life might be different in a more solarpunk society. That, combined with some recent discussions and research into solar cookers made me want to try a scene of a solarpunk kitchen.

Specifically, I decided to render a summer kitchen, a fixture of old farmhouses around here, usually slung between the house and the barn, just a place where you could cook without heating up the rest of the house. They fell out of favor as stoves got more efficient, and they're a luxury for people with lots of space, but I think there's value in a spot where we can cook without making air-conditioning fight the oven. Seasonality may play a much bigger role in our lives in a more solarpunk world.

I pictured our summer kitchen as a kind of three-season porch or sunroom, somewhere you could grow herbs in the windows and overwinter less-hearty fruit trees. And maybe as we reconsider cooking around slower processes, in less hectic lives, add some seating for company (conventional wisdom has it that they're gonna hang around your kitchen either way, so we might as well build the space with that in mind). By building one wall mostly out of sliding doors (with bug netting I didn’t bother to show) we can open the space to cool it, and to reduce any risk of humidity building up from the greenhouse part and rotting the house.

There are a few benefits to this design, I think – in addition to cooling, by building the summer kitchen as an outcropping from the house, we add options for north-facing sides to point our south-facing Scheffler reflector at, making it easier to retrofit old houses. And if we have a south wall to work with, we can add a proper greenhouse wall to get the most out of our natural light. And if we’re building an addition anyways, we can add a root cellar underneath, for preserving vegetables and some fruits without the use of electricity. Once I had a basic layout in mind, I turned to the folks on the solarpunk community and included as many of their ideas as I could.

So, features of this kitchen of the future:

Solar oven: I borrowed the design (and the reflector) from Tamara Solar Kitchen. The big dish beside the house uses the curved, parabolic mirrors to concentrate light on a small opening on the firebrick north wall of the summer kitchen. This light bounces off an angled mirror so it enters the oven from underneath, allowing you to bake in the brick oven, or use the cast iron plate set into the top as a stovetop.

Several of these devices exist IRL and work just fine with only manual controls. But I included the computer control panel because I wanted to show that despite some of my other pictures and their emphasis on analog designs, there's a place for technology in a solarpunk society. Modern tech, without the corporate surveillance state, and focus on wasteful extraction, is a huge part of what I think can make solarpunk work. A lot of the older technologies I'm reexamining may benefit from or become viable with better sensors and automation.

For the screens, my head cannon is that they're old, out-of-support tablets, and the co-op that makes these setups flashed them with a custom ROM, essentially turning unsupported, insecureable tablets into secure, single-purpose devices. Making them less generally useful, perhaps, but still extending their service life far beyond what their manufacturer intended. A motoring system that helps you keep track of your mirror and makes sure it’s not cooking the wrong part of your house would be a good thing to have.

Solar hot water: on the roof, another opportunity to use sunlight directly, and to make the most of our south-facing roof.

Pedal-powered appliances: This was a recommendation from the instance which would not have occurred to me, though I’ve used old pedal-powered grindstones before. I built these ones into the bar both because it made for easy access/maintenance, and because I wonder what 'keeping up with the Joneses' looks like in a solarpunk future, I think in any society, no matter what its values are, there will be people who go way out of their way to demonstrate those values, and I could see things like this being used as statements. This is largely remixed from a real thing a design student made, though I modified the pedal system so it would use a step set under the counter, rather than the version that stuck out the side, as I felt like I’d kick that thing whenever I walked past the bar.

Root cellar: another idea from the group, and something the people living here could benefit from all year long. You might notice that the refrigerator is missing. We talked a bit about perhaps modifying a propane-driven camper fridge to run off a solar cooker, but ultimately I decided they probably have one refrigerator, maybe set up like a chest freezer for maximum efficiency, back inside the winter kitchen.

Fermenting kit: another option for preservation and a fun hobby and another idea from the group. They might be making beer, or soy sauce, or any of a bunch of things. Similarly, I included a shoebox tempeh incubator on the counter as well.

As for making the image itself, these more realistic-looking ones take a lot more time as I can’t rely on filters or other stylizations to hide details. But I wanted this one to be detailed. While I was planning this one, I referenced some of the AI art out there of solarpunk kitchens for visuals I liked – the very fancy dark wood, red accent walls, and bright sunlight streaming in were elements I reused here. But one thing I think that sets this apart, besides the ideas I want to demonstrate, is that you can zoom in on this and really look at the bits and pieces, and they hopefully make sense. Someone (me) had to find and cut out all the jars and plants and nicknacks. There’s a reason that they’re there. Hopefully the version of the image you’re seeing still has enough detail to allow you to do that, if not let me know and I’ll find a way to send the high rez version.

I’ll say here that the stained glass windows and the carved wood panels were contributed by a friend’s midjourny bot.

One last note: buildings in a solarpunk world are going to vary drastically based on local conditions. Building in cooperation with our surroundings is one way to really cut our consumption of resources. This kitchen is built for North America because that’s what I know. Other continents, other longitudes, other climates, will call for much different designs. I’d love to see those if anyone can depict them.

And, like the other Postcards from a Solarpunk Future, this image is CC-BY, meaning you can use it for whatever you like. I'm not sure how, in-world, this ended up as a postcard, maybe the homeowners won a contest or made it to the cover of a homesteading zine or something.

90
 
 

nobonzo.com

91
 
 

So this one is kind of different from most solarpunk art, but then I suppose that’s the goal of this series. It’s not a scene of a farm, or a homestead, or a city full of people gardening. But I think scenes like this might be necessary. One thing I've noticed about solarpunk art is that the societies it depicts are usually pretty developed, plenty of concrete and refined metals in many of the scenes. But there's almost no scenes of solarpunk industry.

So where do all the tools, vehicles, and building supplies in the happy pastoral scenes come from? If we never show it either we've got no answers or we're might be implying that there's an underclass off-screen somewhere bearing all the costs (pollution, habitat loss, dangerous labor) of producing these goods so the people in the pictures can LARP as self-sufficient farmers. I want solarpunk art to be punk, not solarneoliberal so I want to make it clear that this future is genuinely equally distributed. I want to imagine the industry of a society almost obsessed with internalizing externalities. I want to see "but what happens with the waste?" and "where will the power come from?" affecting their every decision.

I think that society might be proud enough of whatever solutions they come up with to put them on a postcard.

I decided to start with steel recycling - steel and concrete production are both incredibly fuel-heavy industries, and society needs a certain amount of both to work, especially when rebuilding. Both take tremendous amounts of heat to produce.

I decided to try a scene where that heat was provided by a solar furnace using a ton of computer-controlled mirrors arranged stadium-seating style on the walls of an old pit mine, and a massive parabolic concentrator focusing the light on something like a blast furnace. I know almost nothing about steel manufacturing or solar furnaces so I'm certain my attempt to smash them together gets a lot of details laughably wrong (ironically steel can be smelted just fine using an electric arc furnace, so it'd probably be easier to just use existing industry technologies and hook it up to a green grid. I might try another junkyard someday scene showing that someday.) Perhaps cement production would have been a better fit for a solar furnace but I think that would require even longer stretches of heat.

I chose the design of the solar furnace with the giant parabolic mirror because they’re an established technology – several of these things exist in real life, and that seemed like a safer bet. Perhaps a better design would have been to do the scene in reverse, without the parabolic concentrator. Place the furnace up on the cliff, looking out over a massive, rising field of mirrors, all aimed at the furnace like a solar collection tower. Maybe I’ll do that one someday too.

Possibly these folks would use an electric arc to get the furnace primed in the morning, and the solar furnace to heat it through the day. I imagine the place is just as busy at night, with crews cutting and sorting scrap and preparing the mix of metals in the skip cars for the day shift.

One thing I really like about solar furnaces (and the reason I wanted to use one in a scene of heavy industry, even when I’m not sure about the practicality of the idea) is that they’re so simple. Mirrors, framework, and established formulas for overall shape, and you can produce incredible heat - up to 3,500 °C. The materials are commonly available, and require very little tech base to produce or assemble, and they can take some of the highest-resource-consuming tasks off the grid. They’re not as reliable as electric power, and that’s a trade-off, but the right combination of technologies, and some adjustment of expectations and schedules, could significantly drop the overall, societal requirements for the collection and storage and distribution of electricity.

I think it’s very much worth considering all sources of power, but also reconsidering some ways we’ve industrialized around profit motives and while ignoring externalities. A lot of technologies were in use recently (last 100 years) that might be a better fit for a more solarpunk world, but were dropped because they weren’t as fast at making product, or because modern power or fuel are so cheap.

And I think there are some cool old designs with potential (and, as always, tradeoffs). For example, in all the scenes I’ve done and have planned, you’ll see cable-powered streetcars and trains, rather than battery-powered electric busses. I’m not against batteries by any means, but they’re a limited resource. Streetcars worked fine for decades long before batteries were anywhere near efficient enough to move a vehicle they were onboard, and having the cars powered directly by grid the means more batteries available for other tasks, or simply less need to destroy habitats mining for the materials to make the kind of maximum-efficient batteries needed for onboard vehicles (and fewer to recycle after they’ve been used and reused long past the end of their functional life).

As for the negatives of a solar furnace, for one, they’re absolute hell on local birds. They’ll burn up anything that flies through the solar flux. (I’ve got a workshop design in the works where the dangerous parts are indoors, which I actually prefer). They depend on clear skies, not just of clouds but airborn dust, smoke, and haze can severely impact their effectiveness. Perhaps a more solarpunk world would have a different pace of life, less need to grind. Maybe the workers would be essentially on-call and if weather is good enough that day, they get on a train to the site, and if it isn’t, they get the day off, work at a different site, or perhaps the steel co-op pays them to help with other work in the community. A place that prioritizes minimizing harm over profits would likely be a very foreign country to all of us.

92
12
"The Market" by David Revoy (www.peppercarrot.com)
submitted 2 years ago* (last edited 2 years ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 
 
93
 
 

Paolo Soleri's Arcosanti : The City in the Image of Man

Paolo Soleri, detail, Mesa City Market (Arts and Crafts), 1961. Pencil, Charcoal, pastel on paper. Collection of the Cosanti Foundation. © Paolo Soleri. Photo: Cosanti Foundation/Soleri Archives/David DeGomez

94
 
 

Another postcard from a solarpunk future. Leaning in on the postcard thing this time. This is kind of a mix of a traditional photobash and the style I’ve been using/making for a rural cyberpunk comic I’ve been working on. The difference is that this time I kept the source images underneath the line art, and used them for the color, whereas with the comic, I convert each element to lines individually, then combine and draw over them, and then color by hand underneath. As with the rest, it’s collaged together from images from all over the place, mostly textures.com, pexels, freepik, and of course, the lowes, amazon, and home depot websites, plus some screenshots of 3d models. I’ll disclose that I did use AI art for two elements of this one, I asked a friend’s midjourny bot to make the deer spraypaint mural, and the colorful mandala I used on the street car.

This was a scene I’d been picturing for awhile, I started building a more dynamic, two point perspective, but kept coming back to this flatter version whenever I thought about this building. I got talking with my SO about the streetcar in that scene, and realized that’s what I could put in the foreground here. That, and the simplicity of the design and the fact that I could bang it out in a couple days, convinced me to just go ahead and make this one too. It’s brighter, and different than most stuff I’ve made, but I’m pleased with it just the same.

I imagine this building is somewhat well known in this fictional place. I think it was probably converted into living space while the world was busy being a little more postapoclyptic than solarpunk, with new residents just scavenging materials from whatever they could. It’s since grown into a sort of community art project, proud of its history, squatters rights, and the reuse of its materials. The first floor is mixed residential/commercial space (you’d almost have to go out of your way to keep a former parking garage from being handicapped accessible, but I figure some first floor places would make things much easier). The roof is covered in a fruit tree orchard, I used apple, pear, and peach trees, all carefully found and cut out in detail before completely blasting them to get them to fit the style I was picturing. I figure these are planted in big planters, rather than directly on the surface of the roof. The building can support it, but standing water, especially in places that freeze, can be really bad for buildings, and tree roots can crack concrete just as well as ice.

As I said, I thought a lot about the design we'd use for the streetcar. My SO and I had some good conversations about aesthetics and what they implied because of genre conventions, down to real world infrastructure, maintenance, and the role of community in a project like this. We considered cyberpunk designs, with all kinds of planes and angles and sleek black coatings, to things that looked halfway like boats or other weird contraptions.

I was torn between wanting its purpose to be visually clear at a glance, and wanting to show something genuinely strange or futuristic.

I settled on a 1910s-ish streetcar for the base both because it's visually clear, and because I think it might be a practical starting point for a society that's trying to rebuild from scratch using entirely local manufacturing. The design is kinda crude but it's proven - streetcars like this were ubiquitous in the US once upon a time. And they used 1910s-era motors, controls, metallurgy, and manufacturing. It feels like this would be a reasonable starting point, especially with a ready supply of scavenged components and high quality metals laying around above ground in the form of existing vehicles (even wrecks).

I like to imagine that this is a newer phase in this citys' public transit infrastructure, that they're starting to standardize their vehicles to simplify things. I like the idea that the first generation of these streetcars were genuinely a community project, that the city/public transit folks settled on some specifications and devoted their limited budget and manufacturing to producing standardized bases, (basically the bottom frame, wheels, motors, and pantograph rig) and that people built the carriages out of whatever they had access to. Each streetcar would be a unique, craft-built contraption, sort of 'public transit by way of Weekend Wasteland.' All kinds of crazy streetcars made from campers, boats, old school buses, whatever people had access to. City safety inspectors and a committee of local people with an emphasis on the disabled, would review each one and specify any necessary changes. This got them a fleet of ready streetcars quickly, allowing them to start providing services while more slowly manufacturing standardized ones to replace the most problematic of the home-built machines.

The slow standardization would be somewhat contentious within a community that took pride in building it's own infrastructure, and in the art-like variety. They might chafe at standardization and formalization, like it's a sign that society is stratifying again. Though the convenience of a more reliable transit network might help balance it out. As a nod to the artistic spirit and history of the fleet, the new vehicles are painted uniquely by members of the community.

Previous postcards:

https://imgur.com/gallery/BJHdVTP https://imgur.com/gallery/hefGfW6

95
 
 

Here's the finished #solarpunk artwork. Inspired by permaculture farms and off grid communities and the like

96
 
 

Macro-Cosanti

"Soleri sketched on long rolls of brown butcher paper laid out on his drafting table, rewinding the paper as he worked. This process allowed Soleri to draw in a stream of consciousness, brainstorming and designing numerous variations of one building.

In 1961, Soleri began work on second major city design. Macro-Cosanti compresses square footage by closely spacing buildings that reach skyward. It introduces large-scale apses filled with residences and offices; their southerly orientation captures maximum light during the winter and provides passive cooling through the shadows cast by direct summer sunlight.

The pedestrian-centric city features parks and gardens linking the elements of a vibrant city centre: residences, stores, schools, markets, churches, hospitals, libraries, theatres and museums.

In this city devoid of roads, automobiles are rendered useless, replaced by elevators and escalators that connect living and work spaces. Scale is communicated through small red human figures sitting in amphitheaters, riding in elevators and strolling through gardens.

This particular scroll is an exceptional example of a single continuous design. Because the scroll is significantly longer than Soleri's drafting table, he had to have sketched it in segments. Despite being unable to see it in its entirety, Soleri made a beautifully cohesive drawing."

97
 
 

The second photobash in what I hope will be a series; a bit larger and more visually interesting than the first. I've started thinking of these as 'postcards from a solarpunk future.’ They might not show the width and breadth of this world, but nice scenes of what this fictional solarpunk society would consider aspirational, or values worth showing off.

I feel that for a genre/movement with such a focus on intentionality, there's a lot of AI art setting the tone online, along with a tendency to accept anything that looks partway futuristic and green, even if it's a massive cityscape or sort of generically utopian. I want to try to pull the visual aspect towards a more lived-in, human future that sets out to show possibilities/options.

My goals for this one were pretty simple: I wanted to show a setting where cars are no longer the priority, and to show that a solarpunk society will embrace new technology and infrastructure where it's a good use of limited resources (in contrast to the focus on reusing what’s here that I'm trying to include in other images). I also wanted to show that there’s room for more than one solution (and more than one kind of lifestyle) as with the bicyclist towing a kind of traditional-looking wagon.

As with the other photobashes, there are ruins in this scene. One of my overarching goals is to keep these pictures from looking utopian or like some kind of scratch-built future. Things will be messy, resources will be scarce, and tasks will go undone. As in our world, the debris of abandoned projects will pile up around human society, no matter how good its intentions are. I’m pessimistic enough to see bad times ahead, but I want to emphasize in these that that doesn’t mean giving up. For me, that’s a big part of the appeal of solarpunk, that the people in it keep working to mitigate the damage at any level they can access, and will try to rebuild more deliberately, carefully when they can. So these scenes are a little postapoclyptic, with hopefully a more inclusive, vibrant, and colorful society on the other side.

98
 
 
99
100
view more: ‹ prev next ›