Though concrete hardens into place, however, dirt doesn't. The design includes strips of porous rock, called gabions, to help with drainage. A subcontractor suggested linking the gabions on both sides of the slope with nylon straps—"the underwire bra system," Rossie calls it—to form frameworks that would help hold the dirt.

Piano's design called for growing native plant species such as beach strawberries and stonecrop among wildflowers on the signature "living" roof. But the wildflowers grew so quickly that they blocked out the light for other native plants. So landscapers started the other plants a full year early, in biodegradable coconut husk trays, so that by the time they were actually planted on the roof (still in their trays), they would have adequate root development. To plant them, they used climbing gear.

For an added degree of difficulty, the Academy asked that Piano's piazza, a naturally lit open-air courtyard, be available year-round. While supporting the glass above, the roof's steel truss, for seismic safety, needed to move around quite a bit, and still fit Piano's graceful, curving design—so each beam had to be individually designed. If the tension wasn't calculated correctly the glass would not, as Kiang delicately puts it, "stay."

For a rain screen, Kiang and Piano designed a full-scale climate system that detects rain and automatically slides the screens up and over the ceiling. Then they created rollout acoustic shades to control the noise and sun shades to moderate the heat on sunny days. The glass-and-steel trusses, rain screen, acoustic screen, and sun shades—all moving independently of each other—had to be hammered out among Kiang and Webcor in San Francisco, Piano in Italy, and glass experts in Germany. "It was," Kiang says, "all about meetings."

The four-story rainforest-in-a-dome is the first of its kind in the United States and the largest in the world. "We came up with the idea of spiraling ramps to connect the floors," Kiang says, "But our challenge was, because they are not a constant radius, it's difficult to figure out the slope." The math was so complicated that almost no one could do it. Metal contractors complained it was all but impossible to build and very expensive. That's when Rossie's background in theme parks came in handy. "I thought, 'this was just a roller coaster,'" Rossie says. "Roller coasters do this all the time." And he found a roller coaster builder in Utah whose estimate—to create shape-shifting circular ramps around a four-story living rainforest—saved a ton of money. The story is emblematic of the way the Academy (which expects to receive platinum-LEED, the highest "green building" certification) was built. "How do you plan for this? You don't. It just kind of happens," Rossie says.

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