Most mass timber conversations focus on the middle of the building. Things like spans and grid layouts. Chris O’Hara says that’s the easy part. And most engineers need to give the edges more attention. He’s a structural engineer and a founding principal at Studio NYL, now a Lerch Bates company. He’s worked on 25+ mass timber structural projects and another dozen on the facade side. On many of them, he’s done both.

That combination is rare. And it’s why Chris sees things most structural engineers miss. Getting the wood to perform in the middle of a building is straightforward. It’s what happens at the edges that determines whether a building lasts 20 years or 200: where the timber meets the facade, where the floor meets the wall, where the warm inside meets the cold outside.

This piece covers what Chris thinks about on every project: thermal performance and condensation, construction phase moisture risk, the transitions that become failure points, and the fabrication capabilities that are expanding what’s possible now.

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Fast Envelope Systems & Moisture Mitigation

Every mass timber building faces its highest moisture exposure during construction, not over decades of use. Wood retains the capacity it had as a living tree to absorb and move water. Once moisture reaches the end grain of a cut timber element, it spreads. And unlike a living tree, a mass timber floor or wall can’t manage it out.

Temporary membranes, protective coatings, and onsite SOPs are important, but Chris says the more durable answer is getting the enclosure on fast.

That’s one reason panelized and unitized curtain wall systems fit naturally with mass timber. Both are prefabricated off-site. Both install quickly. Marry the speed of mass timber erection with the speed of a panelized facade system and the building gets weathered in before a bad rainstorm can do lasting damage.

Speed also has an economic dimension. Faster enclosure means fewer general conditions days on the contract. It gets the building to sale or occupancy sooner. When mass timber is being weighed against alternative structural systems, speed is often what tips the balance.

Panelized systems help the construction moisture problem. But they introduce a new one. Their aluminum-heavy assemblies can create condensation risk long after the building is occupied.

The Cookware Problem: Thermal Performance and Condensation

That’s why the facade details matter so much. Aluminum is everywhere in building facades. It’s also what we make cookware out of. The problem is, it transfers thermal energy extremely well. Chris uses that comparison on purpose. When you wrap a mass timber building in aluminum facade systems, those elements sweat. And if you let that condensation reach the timber, you have a problem.

The fix is getting the insulation to the outside. Putting insulation inside the stud cavity draws the dew point into the wall assembly. The dew point is where water vapor turns to liquid water. Put insulation on the exterior and that dew point stays outside the weather barrier. Condensation doesn’t reach the timber.

As Chris puts it: "When you get cold, you put the sweater on the outside. You don't swallow it."

At transitions where aluminum has to be used, thermally broken systems (where a low-conductivity material  interrupts the aluminum from going continuously inside to outside) reduce the rate of heat transfer. It’s not a true break in the thermal line, but it meaningfully reduces the conductivity compared to unbroken aluminum. For attachment points, Chris favors low-conductivity materials like fiber-reinforced polymers wherever the geometry allows.

The opaque wall is the easier problem. The harder one is what happens when glazing and structure meet, and that’s where the most consequential details live.

Critical Transitions: The Details That Decide Durability

The floor-to-wall interface is the condition Chris is most focused on. It’s where the end grain of the mass timber floor system sits right against the facade. It’s where the window frame, surrounded by aluminum, comes closest to the most moisture-sensitive part of the timber. And it’s where most of the energy loss in a curtain wall system happens.

Panelized and unitized curtain wall systems tend to carry more aluminum, which increases condensation risk at the stack joints, where one panel meets the panel above. Chris lifts the glazing up 18 inches from the mass timber floor deck wherever possible. If condensation does form at that joint, it has room to dry before it reaches the wood.

The glazing interface is one version of this problem. It's relatively manageable because you can see it coming. The harder version is when the structural system creates geometry that the envelope has to wrap around, and nobody has thought through what that actually looks like in the field.

The US Forest Service Museum in Missoula is a good example of all three systems colliding at once. The project used mass timber shear walls, which is the right call structurally, but the hold-down hardware tying those shear walls to the foundation created a plate on the side of the timber that Chris describes as looking like a cheese grater: angled screws at a batter, all kinds of different planes and jogs. That geometry doesn't come from a bad structural decision. It comes from doing the structural job correctly and then having to figure out how the envelope survives it.

Running a waterproofing membrane over that kind of surface without tearing it is nearly impossible. Chris worked through how to protect those membranes while also getting enough insulation over the steel plates. The steel is far more conductive than the timber, so insulation placement at those connections mattered as much as anywhere else on the building. It doesn't show up clearly in a 3D model, he notes, unless you've worked through it a few times. Getting it boxed out on paper before construction started was what kept it from becoming a problem in the field.

Fasteners and the Waterproofing Membrane

One of the things Chris watches closely on CLT wall projects is fastener penetrations. A CLT wall is all structure, so crews tend to fire fasteners wherever they need them. Each one perforates the waterproofing membrane. Some membranes are marketed as self-sealing, but Chris notes those are typically designed for nails, not screws. His approach: put a small amount of silicone on the wall and fasten through it, so the threads draw the silicone into the hole, then seal over the top of the fastener. A small step. Easy to do during construction. Harder to fix after the fact.

The Pen Test

The pen test, sometimes called the pencil test, is a standard quality control check used in building enclosure consulting and commissioning. The concept is simple: take a wall section or building detail and trace each control layer continuously from one end to the other without lifting your pen. There are four layers to check: thermal, air, water, and vapor. Any point where you have to lift the pen is a discontinuity, and discontinuities are where buildings leak, lose energy, and accumulate moisture.

Chris applies this check on every project. In his version, you trace the thermal line and the air and water line around the full building perimeter. If you ever have to pick up your pen because something got in the way, that's where it's going to leak or let thermal energy through and create a condensation problem. The goal is a continuous, unbroken line from grade to roof. Every detail in this article is a place where the pen comes up: the stack joint at the floor line, the cheese grater shear wall plate, the fastener through the membrane. The pen test is how you find them before the building does.

Every one of these details has to be solved before anyone picks up a tool on site. The fabrication capabilities now available are changing how much of that problem can be designed out entirely.

Advanced Fabrication: Designing the Thermal Problem Out at the Source

The details covered so far, the stack joints, the shear wall connections, the fastener penetrations, all have one thing in common: steel and aluminum creating thermal bridges where the envelope is most vulnerable. One of the ways Chris addresses that problem at its source is through the connections themselves.

Ten years ago, he was careful with cuts. Complex geometry meant complex steel connections, which meant more metal at the perimeter, more thermal bridging, and more coordination risk. The rule was to simplify.

That has changed. The milling and cutting equipment at today's mass timber fabricators can produce bearing cuts at a level of complexity that wasn't practical before. Connections that once required significant steel hardware can now be handled by the timber itself. The wood carries the load. Fewer pins, less steel, and better fire performance because there's less exposed metal. And fewer metal connections at the perimeter means fewer places where the thermal line gets interrupted.

The same logic extends to the facade structure itself. Rather than accepting aluminum extrusion as the default spanning element in a curtain wall, Chris uses glue-laminated timber instead. He calls it a timber curtain wall: the glass capture and thermal break hardware come from a conventional glazing veneer, but the structural element spanning floor to floor is glulam instead of aluminum. Aluminum curtain wall systems are optimized for spans of 10 to 15 feet. A glulam can go 30 to 40 feet. The geometry can be anything. And the material conducting heat from outside to inside is wood, not metal. His team recently completed a version of this in Boston, a curtain wall with a 25-foot glulam spanning a historic library, alongside an original glulam facade from decades earlier.

What's now possible with complex CLT geometry tells the same story. A demonstration project at Post Office Square in Boston, currently in permit, has around 1,400 square feet, roughly 20 different roof slopes, all CLT, three-ply and five-ply mixed depending on structural need, and naturally ventilated. Chris calls it thermally one of the best buildings his team has designed. He couldn't have built it 10 years ago. When he brought the geometry to fabricators now, the response was: no problem.

Getting the Wood to Last

Chris has spent 20 years watching mass timber projects succeed and fail at the same place: not in the structure, but in the decisions made at the perimeter. Whether it's a construction phase moisture event, an aluminum stack joint sitting against a floor deck, a cheese grater shear wall plate that nobody detailed around, or a fastener through an unsealed membrane, the problems are almost never structural. They're envelope failures that compound until someone has a reason to say timber doesn't work.

That's the argument Chris is making with every project. The material is right. The fabrication capabilities are there. The industry is getting better at designing thermal bridges out at the source, replacing aluminum spans with glulam, cutting connections so wood carries the load instead of steel. What's still catching teams is the assumption that if the structure is good, the building is good.

That’s not enough. Getting the wood to work in the middle is the easy part. It's everything that happens at the edges that determines whether a building lasts 20 years or 200.

Chris O'Hara is a senior design principal at Lerch Bates. You can find him on LinkedIn or at studionyl.com.

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Most mass timber projects don’t fail on the jobsite. They fail in a conference room somewhere around DD, when the estimate lands and the number is twice what anyone expected. At that point the conversation shifts from how do we build this to can we still build this. And a lot of the time, the answer is no.

Mason Brandt, P.E. has been in that room. He’s the president of WoodCore Engineering , a structural engineering firm out of Lancaster, Pennsylvania focused on wood and timber. He’s worked on north of 25 mass timber projects, and on more than one of them he’s been the person who kept timber on the table when the budget said otherwise.

In this piece he breaks down the decisions that determine whether or not a mass timber project makes it to construction, starting with the one most teams make too late.

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Timber or Not: The Make-or-Break Decision in SD

The structural grid for timber is different from steel. It’s different from concrete. Beam spacing, column layouts, span directions. These aren’t interchangeable. Which means if a team gets to 50% or 90% DD with a steel grid and decides to explore timber, they’re not making a design decision. They’re starting over.

Mason has seen this play out more than once. A project comes in with a steel layout, someone raises the idea of timber late in the process, and suddenly the team is trying to make timber perform like steel. That’s where cost becomes a problem. Not because timber is inherently expensive, but because inefficiency is expensive. Every span, every beam that’s not optimized, every column that doesn’t fit the grid - it all adds fiber volume, and fiber volume drives cost.

The fix isn’t complicated. Decide in SD.

If timber is on the table, flesh it out before the grid gets locked down. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing either. Hybrid structures work. Timber plays well with steel and concrete. But the time to make that call is schematic design, not halfway through DD.

But even when the timber decision happens at the right time, the first estimate doesn’t always land where you need it. Here’s what you can actually do about it.

The Cost Problem and How to Pull It Back

Even when timber is decided early, the estimate can still come in high. On one project Mason's team joined mid-stream, the number came back 40% over the owner's budget. The straightforward response would have been to switch to steel. Instead they went back through the structure.

They rotated CLT panels to span the shorter direction, eliminating entire rows of girders. They cut beams and downsized columns from 12x12 to 10x10 across the building. It added up to significant fiber savings. Fewer pieces also meant faster erection.

Each change was small on its own. Together they brought the project back to a full timber building at a number the owner could live with.

The Cost Lever: What Moves the Needle

The lever here is fiber volume. With timber, material cost is driven by how much wood you're using. Reducing piece count, column sizes, optimizing spans -  these are budget decisions. The first number you get back isn't always the final number. Having someone on the team who knows how to pull it back down makes the difference between a timber building and a steel one.

One of the biggest variables in that fiber volume equation, and one most teams don't think about early enough, is species selection.

Species Selection: A Hidden Deal-Breaker

Specifying a structural steel beam is straightforward. You pick a grade, put it on a drawing, and multiple fabricators can source it. Bidding is competitive. With timber it doesn’t work that way.

Not every species or grade has multiple manufacturers who can competitively bid it. The NDS supplement lists glulam grades and layups with different material properties, but not everything in that document is commercially available.

In some cases there’s one manufacturer who makes a given product. That’s not a bidding situation. That’s a take-it-or-leave-it situation.

Species choice also affects structural capacity. A 20F glulam and a 24F glulam have different strength values. The lower grade might cost less per cubic foot, but if you need more volume to achieve the same structural performance, the savings disappear. If beam depth or column size is constrained by the architecture, you might not have a real choice at all.

Bonus Tip: Funding Sources & Species Decisions

Your funding source might decide your species for you. Buy America requirements, for example, eliminate Canadian and European products entirely. If that question isn't addressed early, you could be deep into design with a species not available in the United States before finding out you have to switch to another. Then you’re forced to revalidate the structure, resize members, and explain to the owner why the building looks different than expected.

Regional Sourcing and the Doug Fir Default

Most mass timber case studies in the US come from the Pacific Northwest, where Doug Fir is the local species and the supply chain is well established. As a result, a lot of architects, especially on their second or third timber project, default to Doug Fir because it’s what they know.

On an East Coast project, that default comes with a shipping cost. Shipping finished elements from the West Coast may offset any material savings. Southern Pine and European Spruce are both structurally viable alternatives that can be easier and cheaper to source depending on where the project is. The right answer depends on the project. But the team needs to have the conversation early enough for it to matter.

The question is who’s the right person to navigate all of this, and when do you bring them in.

Design Assist vs. Delegated Design: Getting the Right People in the Room

There are two primary ways a specialty timber engineer like Mason engages on a project. Understanding the difference matters because each one covers different ground and carries different responsibilities.

Design Assist

In a design assist engagement, the specialty engineer comes in alongside the design team and provides real-time feedback as decisions are being made. Member sizing, species selection, grid layout, connection approach -- all of these have cost implications, and design assist is the opportunity to get that feedback before the bid requests go out.

The design assist engineer doesn’t stamp the drawings. That responsibility stays with the engineer of record. But having a timber specialist in the room early means fewer surprises when the estimate comes in, and fewer situations where the team is trying to reverse-engineer a cost reduction under pressure.

Delegated Design

Delegated design typically comes later in the process. The engineer of record specifies performance criteria and loads for connections, and the specialty engineer designs to those criteria and stamps those calculations.

This approach makes sense because different timber manufacturers have different connection preferences. Some lean toward steel hardware. Others prefer wood-to-wood connections. Delegating the connection design gives the fabricator flexibility to work within their own system while still meeting the structural requirements set by the EOR.

One thing that comes up in delegated design, and in timber construction generally, is field welding. Mason’s position is straightforward: avoid it. The difference between 300 field-welded connections and 300 bolted connections is significant in time, labor, and complexity. Bolted connections are an assembly task. Welded connections are a skilled trade task that introduces variables you don’t want to manage on a timber job.

The connection decisions made on paper are the same ones the crew has to live with on site. Which is why what happens in the field deserves as much attention as what happens in the model.

Solving Field Problems Before They Hit the Site

Mass timber is a finished product. Elements come off the truck ready to install which means there’s very little room for field modification. If something doesn’t fit, the options are limited and expensive.

Mason’s approach is to pull field problems back into the office as early as possible. Tolerances, install sequencing, connection geometry. If a bolt can’t physically fit given the geometry of three beams meeting at a single point, that’s something to solve on paper, not with a piece swinging 20 feet in the air and a crane on standby.

A Real Example

Mason worked through exactly this on a train station project in Maine. The assembly sequence on that job wasn't flexible. Each piece supported the next. A glulam beam bears on a CLT wall panel, which supports a floor panel, which carries a wall above. They also had to work around existing steel and coordinate with railroad schedules for limited installation windows. Every one of those constraints got worked through before anyone picked up a tool. This avoided idle crane time, or the crew standing around while someone figures out what should have been solved at a desk.

Clarity Is Kindness

Clarity in the documents is one of the most valuable things a design team can provide. What’s a minimum performance requirement? What’s flexible? What species is mandatory and what’s open to alternates? When those questions are answered clearly and early, every team bidding the job is working from the same information, and the owner isn’t absorbing the cost of ambiguity through change orders.

The flip side is also true. When a project goes sideways, people rarely say the design was bad. They say timber is expensive, timber is complicated, timber isn’t worth the hassle. Most of the time that’s not a timber problem. It’s a process problem. A decision that came too late, a species specified without checking availability, a fabricator who wasn’t in the room early enough.

The projects that work are the ones where the right people are involved early, the documents are clear, and the team is asking questions before the answers get expensive. That’s not specific to timber. But in timber, the margin for error is smaller and the cost of getting it wrong is higher.

As Mason puts it: clarity is kindness.

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Mass timber evolves through global conversations, ideas jumping from landscape urbanism to affordable housing, from precision prefabrication to the rise of biogenic materials. But those ideas don't move on their own. They move through people who've worked across the entire system from end to end. Sebastian Bildau is one of those people. A German architect and mass timber specialist with nearly two decades of experience starting at CLT's ground zero in Austria, he now runs Atelier Bildau in Munich, a design workshop focused on timber at every scale. This episode is a walk through the projects that shaped his thinking.

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Forests as Cleanup Tools and Future Building Material

Most people think the mass timber supply chain starts at the sawmill. Sebastian starts earlier, at the dirt. His early work in landscape urbanism explored what happens when you treat a post-industrial contaminated site not as a liability but as a long-term asset. The concept was simple: plant fast-growing tree species like poplar directly on polluted land. In the early years, the trees do the remediation work, absorbing heavy metals from the soil that heavy industry left behind. Over time, the land heals. After 20 to 40 years, what started as a row of saplings on a scarred urban site becomes a thriving park with mature timber ready to harvest.

The business case is built in from the start. Rather than paying to remediate contaminated land through conventional means, the trees do it naturally, and then pay dividends as a local material supply. Shorter supply chains, lower transportation costs, and a building material with a documented environmental story attached to it before it ever reaches a factory.

Takeaway

Sustainability in mass timber isn't just about what you build, it's about where the material comes from. Thinking that far upstream is rare. It's also an advantage.

Affordable Housing in Vienna, Value Engineering Done Right

On a former airfield between Vienna and Bratislava, Sebastian's team delivered 200 units on a 90x90 meter plot at roughly $168 per square foot, and still found a way to build with timber. The project came out of a competition and was constrained from every direction: tight budget, dense urban site, strict local fire codes, and a client building social housing at scale.

The structural solution was a hybrid: thin concrete slabs, minimal columns, and concrete corridor walls for durability and acoustic performance. Everything else, the prefabricated exterior panels, the facade, the upper floors, was timber. The untreated larch facade was the boldest move, and also the most contested. At the time, a combustible exterior skin like that wasn't permitted under Austrian code. The city's approval authority pushed back hard. The team's solution was a metal fire-separation band projecting several inches beyond the facade plane at each floor level, a detail that physically interrupts flame spread and gave the authorities what they needed to sign off.

It sounds like a small thing. But that one detail unlocked the entire aesthetic of the building without adding significant cost or structural weight. In fact, by minimizing slab depth and keeping the concrete footprint as lean as possible, the team reduced the building's overall weight and kept costs in check throughout. A lot of value engineering went into making it work, but the result was a dense, livable, affordable project that didn't compromise on the timber vision.

Takeaway

Code obstacles aren't reasons to abandon an approach. They're engineering problems that usually have solutions, if you're willing to dig for them.

Robotically Prefabricated Panels in Berlin

A few years later, working as lead designer at a Berlin-based proptech developer, Sebastian took prefabrication further than most residential projects ever go. The building used a robotic manufacturing line to produce both inner and outer wall panels, and arrived at site completely ready to install. Every panel came pre-loaded with electrical wiring and data cables. The panels went up, got connected, and the building came together fast.

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The system was deliberately two-dimensional. Rather than stacking three-dimensional volumetric modules, the team worked with flat panels assembled on site. That choice paid off in flexibility. 2D panels are easier to transport, easier to adapt, and easier to disassemble at end of life if the building ever needs to come down or be reconfigured. The only 3D element in the entire project was the bathroom pod, which came pre-plumbed as a single unit.

The facade couldn't be timber at that height due to fire restrictions, so the team used fiber cement panels combined with a large PV array covering roughly half the exterior surface. Getting PV panels to work on a timber-framed high-rise required its own coordination effort, but the standardized panel dimensions kept the overall system lean and the joint lines tight, which also improved the building's airtightness and thermal performance.

Takeaway

The more you resolve at the factory, the less you fight on the job site. Prefabrication isn't just about speed, it's also about quality.

The Federal Ministry of the Environment, Putting the Right Material in the Right Place

A federal government office building in Berlin doesn't sound like fertile ground for timber innovation. Single occupant offices, long corridors, a complex floor plan that branches like a tree trunk, not exactly the open-span, loft-style program that typically showcases mass timber at its best. But this project became one of Sebastian's most instructive precisely because of those constraints.

The team built what they called a matrix, a massive Excel spreadsheet that evaluated every structural component in the building against input from every discipline: structural, MEP, building physics, and fire. Columns, beams, floor decks, ceiling assemblies, each one analyzed for which material performed best in that specific location. The process took months. They ran separate exercises for the structural frame and then again specifically for the floor composition. It was painstaking, but it produced something valuable. A building where every material decision had a reason behind it.

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The result was that roughly 40-45% of the floors were timber, concentrated entirely in the zones where people actually work. Every individual office had exposed timber beams, columns, and ceilings, all carrying an F90 fire rating, meaning they're engineered to withstand 90 minutes of fire exposure. The corridors and mechanical areas stayed concrete. The biophilic qualities of the timber (warmth, acoustics, visual texture) were delivered exactly where occupants would feel them most. The government got a building that met every code requirement and still managed to feel like a place people actually want to show up to.

Takeaway

Timber doesn't have to be everywhere to change how a building feels. Strategic placement beats all-or-nothing every time.

An All-Timber Tower at 150 Meters

‍“I dare you”.

Sebastian's structural engineer challenged him to prove that a genuinely all-timber tower, no concrete or steel core, was structurally feasible at 150 meters. Challenge accepted.

Most tall timber buildings today reach the 100-meter mark by leaning on a concrete podium and a concrete or steel core at the center. Sebastian's concept takes a different approach. Two parallel timber super-frames, spaced 12 meters apart and arranged in a cross formation, handle both vertical loads and lateral forces. The core contains elevators and stairs but doesn't do the structural heavy lifting, the frames do. Steel plates, pins, and dowels handle the connections where forces are highest, but timber remains the primary structural material throughout.

It's a lighter building, a faster build, and a fundamentally different structural logic than anything currently standing at that height. The seismic performance actually benefits from timber's lighter weight and natural ductility. The concept is still in development, but the intent is to demonstrate that the assumptions everyone makes about what concrete has to do in a tall building aren't as fixed as they seem.

Takeaway

The height ceiling for mass timber keeps rising, and the people pushing it aren't doing it by tweaking existing approaches, they're questioning the structural assumptions underneath them.

Structurally Engineered Bamboo in St. Louis

The final project introduces a material most structural engineers haven't seriously considered yet. Working with Luke D Schüette of ReNüTeq , Sebastian is developing a bamboo tower in St. Louis, a city whose iconic arch shaped the building's design language. The material is structurally engineered bamboo, or SEB. Bamboo milled down into fibers, laminated under pressure, and certified for structural use.

Bamboo grows dramatically faster than timber and sequesters roughly 60% more CO₂ per cubic meter while doing so. In laminated form it approaches the strength of hardwoods like beech. It can be processed into dense, nearly non-combustible composite panels by adding ceramic powder, giving it a fire rating that opens doors in jurisdictions with strict requirements. And unlike traditional bamboo construction, which relies on the raw stem, SEB works within the same manufacturing and connection logic that mass timber teams already know.

A 7-story demonstration tower is currently underway. A follow-on project at roughly double the height, around 60 meters, is in planning. The St. Louis project is a proof of concept, but the ambition behind it is much larger - establishing bamboo as a serious structural material for mid and high-rise construction in the US and eventually in Europe.

Takeaway

The definition of what we can build with is still expanding. Like bamboo. It's the next chapter in biogenic construction, and the people treating it that way now are going to have a significant head start.

The Thread Running Through All of It

Use the right material, in the right place, for the right reason. Solve the code problem instead of walking away from it. Push prefabrication as far as it can go. Question the structural assumptions everyone else treats as fixed. And, Sebastian's closing note, and maybe his most grounded one, don't forget the craftsman. All the robotics, engineered systems, and biogenic innovation in the world still need skilled hands to put it together. That part doesn't change.

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How can tiny metal hooks dramatically change construction and the way we build with wood?

Learn more about GripMetal.

In this factory tour, we go inside Nucap Industries in Toronto to get a behind-the-scenes look at a material innovation that’s transforming wood construction from the inside out. After more than 25 years of development, GripMetal is being tested as a way to mechanically reinforce wood, unlocking greater strength, ductility, and fiber efficiency without relying on adhesives.

Think rebar for wood.

In this video, you’ll see:

- How microscopic metal hooks mechanically lock into wood fiber

- Why this technology came from high-performance automotive braking systems

- How it’s already being used in modular construction

- What it could unlock for mass timber systems like CLT, NLT, and glulam

- Why hybrid materials may be the next step for scalable mass timber construction

This factory tour goes beyond machinery and process, it looks at how material science can expand what’s possible in modern construction and mass timber buildings.

If you’re interested in construction innovation, factory tours, or the future of mass timber, this video breaks it down from the ground up.

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