Sam’s Place

“The Sahara is gone. The SLS is here. Before long … we’ll only be talking about the SLS.” That was the Great & Powerful Harry Reid, administering a verbal beatdown to anyone still nostalgic for the Sahara. Reid’s dose of Tough Love struck the only discordant note in the love fest for Sam Nazarian held today at the intersection of Sahara Avenue and the Las Vegas Strip, where the SLS Las Vegas was busily stirring to life. Even though the property was not officially open, its coffee shop (The Perq … Nazarian must have swiped one of Gary Loveman‘s prized Qs) was doing brisk business by 10:30 a.m. while, across the corridor, Fred Segal Jewelry was frantically applying the final touches. (“They’re the last piece to come together,” said an exec.) All over the resort, which was nominally finished ahead of schedule, somebody was busy working on something, providing a background hum of hyperactivity.

By the same token, there was a jolt in the Congo Room (converted to convention space) electricity when Nazarian entered. Like him or not — if it matters — it’s his big day of vindication and various civic figures threw verbal bouquets at his feet, as is their duty on such occasions. What looked like an impossible project with a counterintuitive business plan had been brought to fruition, although Nazarian and majority owner Terry Fancher kept their remarks fairly understated and let the property speak for itself.

Thrift, Horatio!

“A lot of people were sour on us and put up a lot of roadblocks,” said SLS Las Vegas President Rob Oseland, without elaborating. “We’re not here to build a hotel and move on,” added Nazarian, “and ultimately we’re going to give back more than we take.”

While keeping the budget just under $500 million (per Oseland), Nazarian’s “adaptive reuse” of the skeleton of the Sahara has achieved a bang for the buck comparable or superior to The Cosmopolitan, built for several times the cost. Oseland also cleared up the role of the EB-5 investors, incidentally, explaining that none got jobs with SLS LV but are passive investors “who have been aggregated as one loan vehicle.” They get permanent green cards and, in five years, the return of their investment in SLS. With rooms at SLS priced to move (in the $140-$200 ADR range), Stockbridge Real Estate and sbe entertainment are clearly hoping to bring back the days of a 20% ROI. “We have very reasonable goals,” said Fancher. “We don’t quit. We don’t give up.” Opening night was fully booked, which has to give management cause for hope.

As to SLS Las Vegas itself, where to begin? We were only able to partially tour the property, so one is left with a grab bag of impressions, inundated by a Babel of visual languages.* If you are coming to Las Vegas for tasteful restraint, you won’t find it here. Violently contrasting tonalities and elements are boldly juxtaposed. The elegant wallpapering of Jose Andres‘ Bazaar Meat shares a hallway with faux graffiti for Life, the big nightclub that occupies what used to be Steve Wyrick‘s old showroom. Entering the World Tower, a passageway in profound, unrelieved red gives way to a completely mirrored elevator bank. The insides of all the elevators — which got stuck a couple of times — feature floor-to-ceiling artwork, another SLS signature touch. The manic visual language is a perfect analogue to the party-hard crowd that is Nazarian’s commercial G-spot.

(* — One is also drenched and drained by the humidity in SLS. It may be the hot, new resort but it isn’t a dry heat.)

A shot at redemption

Architectural firm Gensler was fresh off Aria and CityCenter when it undertook this project and has improved on its work for MGM Resorts International. There is none of the vexing lack of flow which plagued CityCenter. You step through a “reflection box” (complete with illuminated floor) and the casino fans out before you, girded with Fred Segal retail (“I’m a creator and curator of retail experiences”) and effortlessly directing you to the restaurants and nightclubs that are the property’s raison d’etre. (The casino has 73 tables and 800 slots.) At no point did I feel disoriented.

To get that far, you’ll have to pass a jolly, pink, 32-foot-tall Cyclops that is “Sam by Starck,” Philippe Starck‘s semi-abstract representation of Nazarian, dominating the Strip-side traffic roundabout. Which brings one to another key element in the design: Whimsy. Examples are too numerous to mention but they include disembodied hands, lips and ears protruding from the walls in public areas, and “Sam by Starck” slot toppers. The meeting rooms have names like Louie and Marcel. The Congo Room is decorated in lampshades. The Griddle Cafe features a scratch-and-sniff wall. “It’s difficult to say who’s going to like what,” commented Oseland. “We’ll let the customers figure that one out.”

A possible drawback — and a strong incentive for customers to get out and party — is the size of the rooms. Even the 500-square-foot Lux Tower rooms with their “peekaboo showers” feel tight and the 325-square-foot Story Tower rooms are downright claustrophobic once the bed and sofa (both internally illuminated) have been shoehorned in. Making a virtue of necessity, both the shower and water closet are concealed behind sliding mirrors. (The ceiling is exposed cement with a mirror right over the bed.) Discreetly tucked next to the Story Tower elevators, by the way, is Play — an adult boutique for those who want to ratchet up the naughtiness of their Vegas stay.

Some things never change

At least, in its effort to achieve Wynn Resorts-level comfort, SLS was able to strip the Lux Tower down to its core slab and slightly enlarge the
rooms. That’s also where you’ll find the reading-room-like VIP lounge,  just off a discreet “sidecar” entrance. Speaking of adaptive reuse, the buffet (reoriented 90 degrees) still occupies the same, somewhat isolated location. SLS made the decision to retain that infrastructure and have it service the buffet, catering and the employee dining room. The buffet area its has been redone in what Oseland calls “farmhouse chic,” giving it an appealing, hunting lodge look.

Occupying a lonely corridor turn, halfway between the buffet and the gaming floor is Icon Images Gallery, featuring — and selling — the photography of lensman-to-the-stars Terry O’Neill. (Once mainly famous as Faye Dunaway‘s boyfriend.) There are enough eateries on the main floor that customers may never make it to the buffet. Ku Noodle — a late addition — is Andres’ attempt to connect with local and regional Chinese customers. “We’ll Americanize it with a twist,” Oseland said, while Andres elaborated, “a Spanish boy, newly American, doing Chinese food. Only in America. Only in Las Vegas. Only at SLS.”

The pool area has been redone in blazing alabaster, with striped cabanas offering a modicum of visual relief. A bar occupies a large, new island in mid-pool. Oseland praised the original design (right) for its “terrific location because it gets sun all day.” Three garage doors will roll up to admit pool patrons to Foxtail, one of three nightclubs (Sayers Club and Life were unavailable for inspection), this one done in a mix of calligraphy and graffiti by Parisian artist Tarek Benaoum. (The large visual team also includes Lenny Kravitz, who designed four suites.)

Oseland, who seems to be en famille with everyone on the property halts our tour to give the casino-floor bar staff a pep talk. “We’re gonna take off like a rocket ship,” he cautions them, basically telling them to breathe deeply and not sweat it.

The verdict?

“Some people will hate this place: ‘What is this shit?’,” Starck offered, describing the dream clientele as “The smart tribe, people who want to create their own life. We have to create fertile surprises [for them.]”

Summarizing the contrarian philosophy of SLS, Nazarian asked, “What’s the worst place on the property? And that’s where we put Bazaar [Meat].” In closing, he noted that he didn’t have the biggest property on the Strip “but it’s ours and there’s a lot of love in it.”

True that.