Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Metal, glass and plastic ephemera

Ephemera often connotes a notice on paper, not intended for a long life. A flier for a concert, a poster intended to be stapled to a telephone pole or a leaflet intended to provide a bite-sized bit of education on an issue all come to mind. However our society has created much more than paper that seems to fit the bill. Electronic posts and artwork zap in and out of existence in less than a wink of the eye. Some if it is archived, if only by it's creator, and some ends up in tedious blogs (not unlike this one). These archives will survive until the next great electro-magnetic pulse smooths out the wrinkles in all the electronic brains exposed to that powerful eraser.






Recently, I encountered another form of ephemera in Las Vegas. Signs have surprisingly short life spans as businesses whirl and spin their images in that highly competitive market. Many of these signs have value on a number of artistic and cultural levels. Without a doubt, these signs are one significant example of what Las Vegas means to many of us. While the image you bring up may be of gambling, attractive people, a plethora of adult entertainment and even fun, often the first impression we have are the lights and signs. Sometimes if we arrive in the area after dark, it's the glow of the lights on the horizon for a half an hour or more before we reach the crest of the hill and begin our glide into the valley. Our eyes drifting from the road to the amazing spectacle of light radiating from Downtown and along The Strip. The stars and the moon are no longer important or even visible. It's all we can do to keep our eyes on the highway, the spectacle is so much an attractant. It can't be pushed away and draws us in, surprising us by how long it takes to get there. That focus of power in the middle of a bowl of street and house lights is so powerful that it seems closer than it actually is. When we finally get there we are assaulted by not just the lights but by sound blasting from speakers everywhere and crowds of people all being changed in one way or another by this environment of over-stimulation. Charles Ives and John Cage might both be overwhelmed by this city with a constant and unavoidable soundtrack.


Along The Strip and Downtown we see light displays that are beyond anything found in almost every other city in the world. This is changing as casinos and their particular form of libertine signage are finding new homes all the time. Others are adopting it as they can or feel the need, making the designers and manufacturers of these displays very happy and wealthy. This is particularly true as they find the need to upgrade their signs either to new technology or just to compete with neighbors. We have seen the change from incandescent bulbs and neon to light emitting diodes. The technology has advanced from static displays that were limited to lights flashing on and off to video screens the size of buildings that are not limited to just the nighttime to be effective. Now it's 24 hours a day and the message can be changed in a breath to make sure the already distracted viewer has even more options. But what of the old signs that have served so well, but must be replaced if the business expects to be respected in this market place of attraction and desire? There are those who seem to love the old stuff, even if it's only 20 or 30 years old. Artists and engineers spent months developing some of these creations. They were pieces of wall art, stand-alone wonders and architectural designs that represent the brief history of an often despised, but fascinating city. Just as much as the original mobsters, entertainers, lever pull wheel slot machines and showgirls, the signs are symbolic of Las Vegas. An effort has been made to save some of them in an attempt to document that element of history. Right now the collection is in it's infancy. Some of the pieces have been saved and restored, put back on display for people to admire, even if they don't recognize what it is they are seeing. Other pieces have been saved and are in long term storage at the Neon Boneyard in the dry desert air of Las Vegas. A trip to the north end of Las Vegas Blvd and a few dollars less than you would drop in one-armed bandit will get you a taste of that metal, plastic and glass ephemera. Walk around with a guide who will provide more background that you can absorb in the hour long tour, but soak it in anyway, because that rust is part of our collective bloodstream.


The swirls and lines, channels and broken lights in dirty sockets are waiting for attention. Samples of all types of sign are being saved. From painted signs, roadside directional signs, marquee, sculptural and architectural additions from each era of this city are being sought and saved. Their history, including the name of the designer and the company that manufactured the sign are being documented. And each sign they collect is being placed in a context that will help us understand not just the history of Las Vegas or signs, but the history that effected the signs in their design and construction. The long-gone Moulin Rouge opened a door that ended segregation by race in Las Vegas and the Stardust and others used their signs to embrace the open air testing of atomic bombs over the mountains to the north. The signs tell many stories and shed light in places they were never intended. Maybe that will eventually pay off as we begin to better understand ourselves and our relationship to that sparkling and immensely gaudy jewel lying there in the dry desert.