Neal Keny-Guyer could tell you what it feels like to go fly-fishing in Kamchatka. He could express the lasting impact of his trip to the Thai-Cambodian border at the height of conflict in 1980, or what it feels like in Beirut after a car bomb explodes in the middle of an otherwise pleasant afternoon.
The plan for Jesse Lange was already in the soil of tiny Dundee when he moved there as a 9-year-old. It wasn’t preordained determinism. Oregon’s wine industry back then couldn’t yet be called much of an industry. The soil was new to the noses in the wine world, and most clear thinkers were clearly skeptical of its potential. Oregon wine was what Californian wine-growers considered to be the hooch of a few hippies who had lost the points on their compass, errant souls swept up in a northerly trade wind.
Wei Wang sat down in his lab at Oregon State University with an inkjet printer and an interesting question. Why can’t solar cells be made simply by printing them with an inkjet printer filled with a solution of solar-transmitting compound? His answer was the subject of a four-page research paper published in the industry journal Solar Energy Materials & Solar Cells and the focus of an article from the BBC. The 28-year-old Ph.D. candidate from Shanxi Province, China had discovered an easy process for making solar cells with a printer, a substrate and a combination of metal salts called CIGS. Wang’s discovery could revolutionize the solar industry as a cheap and environmentally friendly alternative to the traditional siliconbased solar cell, and, as a by-product, bring inkjets back into the avant garde.
It is an understatement to say that Rachel Bristol is passionate about her work. Vigor, pride and frustration are Bristol’s constant companions after twenty years as chief executive officer for the Oregon Food Bank. Her deep concern for the people of Oregon who struggle to feed themselves and their families is palpable and her enthusiasm to bring change is contagious.
Kevin Zielinski’s eyes light up as he names the apple varieties he tends at his Willamette Valley orchard, just outside of Salem. Champagne Rienette. Douce Moën. Muscadet de Lense. St. Martine. The sinuous vowels and soft consonants even sound delicious. Eventually, they become fluid when Zielinski transforms these French heirloom apples into a traditional sparkling hard cider that leaves many searching for words.
In a darkened photographer’s studio on Portland’s Eastbank, Lucas Threefoot is jumping so high, his torso nearly clears a tall backdrop. That athletic artistry is also vaulting his career as a ballet dancer known for his classic and contemporary hybrid style. “I’m riding a wave right now,” Threefoot smiles. “A good wave.”