posted by Christopher James
One of our bar buddies at Rachel commented on how rare it is to find people whose brains and hearts are aligned. At the time, I didn't quite get what he meant, so I kept sipping my Budweiser.
Yesterday we got our mid-century aesthetic on, with visits to the Hoover Dam and the
National Atomic Testing Museum, the only Smithsonian west of the Mississippi. (And the only one that charged me admission, too.)
Quick shout out to Leslie at the
Bureau of Reclamation! She gave an excellent tour, one I won't soon forget.
Above is one row of turbine shafts spinning with the force of the mighty Colorado. I did not realize this, but Hoover Dam's primary objective is not to generate power, it's flood control. In fact, no one relies on Hoover's power—the Strip does not run on hydroelectricity. The electricity generated by Hoover is intended to compensate for its construction and operation.
Hoover Dam, however, is also a massive work of art. Designers settled on the simple, geometric patterns of Art Deco after considering Gothic and Neo-Classical styles. Can you imagine Hoover Dam with gargoyles? In fact, features were installed throughout the dam to service the expected tourists. The entry elevator gleams with brass and black stone. The hallways feature mosaics laid into the granite floors. Even the sculpture of winged-figures contains an astronomical puzzle meant to communicate with some distant civilization thousands of years in the future.
Then there's the legacy of atomic testing at Yucca Flats, northwest of Las Vegas. The scientists, engineers, and workmen who served at the Nevada Test Site rightly consider themselves soldiers on the front line of the Cold War. The development of super powerful weapons, and competition between the Soviet Union and the United States to keep developing those weapons, was the defining drama of the conflict. We built more than them, bigger than theirs, quicker than they could build theirs: we won.
But the testing created an odd cross-cultural trend, too. The mushroom cloud was an alluring source of vitality and courage. But it also symbolized the hubris that we knew could be our ultimate undoing. It was an appropriate image to attach to strong liquor and legalized gambling. The strange sort of pastel-hued fatalism that decorated mid-century America was very much inspired by the blasts detonated in Nevada.
Today, some researchers believe the arid Southwest may be nearing it's carrying capacity. We may have misappropriated a sensitive ecosystem. (We wouldn't be the first. The
ancient civilizations of the region probably disappeared due to extended drought and a changing climate.) That massive, beautiful Hoover Dam might be a latter-day Mesa Verde could have been the inspiration for the millennial sculpture. Meanwhile, the awesome potential of the Nevada Test Site has been repeatedly repurposed for less warlike uses, but it can't get beyond the fact that we made them to blow other people to smithereens.
(Don't even get me started on the
Downwinders, people affected by the nuclear fallout from the tests. No one asked them if they wanted to be frontline soldiers in the Cold War. But we do give them nifty equipment to monitor for radiation now. We're not barbarians.)
Nevada is often called a place of contrasts. Snow-dappled peaks overlooking timeless Joshua trees, baking in the sun. Rugged individuals who are made conservative by the hard-times experiences of mining busts and kindling-dry rangelands must share a state with the most libertine of cultures that revels in loose slots, brothels, 24-hour saloons, and callously profiteers off men lost to their passions.
Even in the ways Nevada has uniquely contributed to the American experience, its brain and its heart is not always aligned.
Location: Las Vegas
