Learning From Las Vegas: Henderson
I have a standard response to certain cosmetic approaches to just about anything. I use the analogy of hair, body piercings, and tattoos. If you’re attractive you don’t need them. If you’re ugly they don’t help. Of course beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder.
This is Henderson, Nevada. It’s a rapidly growing suburban municipality on the edge of Las Vegas. I’m going to state what I believe is a fact. This is exactly the kind of physical environment many people - possibly a majority of Americans - are actively looking for. There are respectable job opportunities in Henderson. Home ownership is attainable. Wide roads ease traffic congestion and lead to ample free parking in every direction. There’s plenty of open space. The weather is perpetually sunny. And the schools are well regarded. Henderson offers a new, safe, affordable middle class venue populated by like-mined individuals. And because Henderson is a fairly young municipality it hasn’t yet accumulated legacy obligations for pensions, health care, and failing infrastructure maintenance. What’s not to love? (Just for the record, I have no desire to live in a place like Henderson. Not my jam.)
This is Central Church on New Beginnings Drive in Henderson. Notice how the architecture of the church is indistinguishable from a Costco or Walmart. The building reflects the dominant local vernacular. I’m not a materials snob. I can embrace the concrete block walls and exposed structural steel esthetic with the best of them. But looking around I had multiple reactions to the landscape.
If humans were trying to take a really hot dry place and make it even hotter and dryer, this is a fantastic technique. Central Church sits on just shy of 36 acres of black tarmac and hard surfaces that absorb heat all day long, then radiate it back at night when the desert would otherwise cool itself down. You can fry an egg on the pavement.
When precious rain does fall it’s quickly gathered into storm culverts and carried to a concrete lined flood control channel that hugs the edge of the property. From there it’s sent far away. The majority of precipitation never gets a chance to soak into the ground and recharge the aquifer. Over time what little water would exist naturally is depleted.
The excess heat and waterproofing created by the built environment intensifies the need for more energy for climate control equipment and more imported water. Henderson isn’t any different from any other place built in recent times, so I’m not singling it out. I’m just noting the obvious in a location that’s more stark than average.
It’s entirely possible to support a city like this for a long time, but sooner or later it will reach a natural limit where the required inputs of new money, energy, water and associated infrastructure exceed the underlying productive value. This process plays out over multiple generations. No one has any interest in this conversation until the very end when things actively fail. But by then people will already be migrating to an entirely new place with better prospects. These places are disposable. Grow or die. Slash and burn. It’s the American Way. This isn’t a criticism. It’s an observation.
Henderson actually received a special award for being extra bicycle friendly. As stated on the city’s official website, “Henderson features one of the most extensive trail systems in the state of Nevada totaling 184.61 miles.” And “Henderson is officially the first city in Nevada to receive a silver Bicycle Friendly Community award.”
This landscape is designed specifically and exclusively for cars in multiple structural and non negotiable ways. Adding bike lanes along the side of the eight lane arterial roads and between the immense parking lots is a gesture. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m saying it’s peripheral at best and is fundamentally incapable of meeting the minimum standard for most people. Would you let your eight year old child or eighty year old granny ride a bike in this environment? This lack of physical viability is coupled with a self selecting population that has little interest in cycling. Perhaps some people might enjoy hopping on a bike as a recreational option, but they will likely put the bike in their truck and drive to a designated park to ride in circles before driving back home.
Here’s just one small example of what I’m getting at. There are homes directly across the street from the church. The current orthodoxy prioritizes security and segregation. You wouldn’t want a horde of unsavory churchgoers passing your respectable home every Sunday with their traffic congestion, noise, and Stranger Danger. So there’s a concrete wall that divides the homes from noxious activities like the church. Walking across the street isn’t physically possible. Driving out the gated entrance of the isolated subdivision and taking the main road around to the parking lot is the only option. You “could” walk. You “could” bike. But almost no one ever does.
I spent some time following the little green lines of the official bike routes as displayed on Google maps. Henderson is built at a scale that precludes meaningful pedestrian activity. That’s a feature, not a bug. A landscape can be made to accommodate cars. Or it can be built to serve pedestrians and cyclists. But they are mutually exclusive.
It’s possible to take the bike path from the back of the home improvement center, pedal over to the back of a couple of motels, then cruise on over to the back of the gas station along a drainage ditch. But why would anyone do that?
Everything that makes the world a better place for cars makes it much worse for anyone on foot. Everything that makes a place better for walking and cycling diminishes the cars. The bike lanes in Henderson are a study in how to do the absolute minimum while still making a big fuss about how great it is. But it’s not great. It was never meant to be anything other than a symbolic gesture for Henderson’s marketing brochures.
Let’s get back to hair, piercings, and tattoos. There are a collection of techniques this church is using to activate the otherwise dead space around the parking lot. The vintage Airstream travel trailer is a welcome wagon to greet newcomers. Airstreams are fun and have a certain cachet. They represent freedom, travel, and adventure without giving up the comforts of home.
Shipping containers anchor either side of the front facade like a pair of Chinese foo dogs. They may provide storage for outdoor equipment, but they seem entirely decorative. The message being sent is one of edgy fashion trends. “This church is for the cool kids.”
The stairs are painted with the bold church logo. It’s branding. This is another trend I see in places attempting to reactivate otherwise dead space. The problem here is the stairs serve as a subliminal indication of where the front door should be, the way classical buildings draw people in and up. But this is a contemporary building with industrial warehouse tendencies, not a Greek temple. The doors are tucked lower down and to the sides like a supermarket. Again, this is the suburban vernacular at work. So big signs and arrows were needed to direct people to the correct doors. Otherwise, the emergency fire exits and service doors are easily confused with the proper entrance.
Plastic Adirondack chairs, beanbag games, ring toss, and outdoor movie screens are all part of the programming. These are simple, cost effective, easy to deploy tactics to transform a wasteland into a place people actually want to inhabit. These are the blond highlights, the Jhery curl, the nose ring, and the little ankle tattoo of architecture and urbanism. Either Henderson is beautiful and doesn’t need these tidbits. Or Henderson is ugly and they don’t help. That’s up to each individual to decide.
