Far from the bright lights of the Strip, there are places where the old Las Vegas headliners go to their final rest. For these faded stars, this is the last stop before the garbage can. Except we’re not talking about Rich Little or Charro, and that garbage can isn’t a metaphor. Scattered around Las Vegas are several hulking, anonymous warehouses, and inside you’ll find the costumes, props and sets from a great many Vegas shows that either updated their look or closed down entirely. Once the theater cleans out and the cast and crew go home, these material things are the only ghost a permanently dark production leaves behind.
Of course, not every crate is the sign of a dead show. Long-running acts change their appearance when changing routines, and certain costumes and props will eventually wear out. Something has to be done with all those sequined tunics and gilded tiger cages. Items with hard-to-find parts or materials may be cannibalized for new incarnations, and some personal favorites may be saved by the performers. Others go in the box with the hope of being used again someday. According to Frank Liebermann, formerly of the indefinitely shuttered Siegfried & Roy, how long such costumes remain in storage can often depend on one critical variable: a performer’s waistline. “It really depends on how much the size of the person changes,” says Liebermann diplomatically.
Occasionally, certain items will be donated to charity, and Siegfried & Roy in particular were noted for this kind of philanthropy. Before Roy Horn’s tragic tiger mauling in October 2003, the magical duo wore a pair of dramatic, metallic capes in their act. New capes were tailored when those got threadbare, but the old ones were fixed up and given to the Las Vegas Cow Parade (a charity event featuring whimsical fiberglass cow sculptures), where they helped two life-size fiberglass cows make an unforgettable bovine fashion statement.
Tricks of the trade
Sadly, some of the most ornate and bizarre Vegas props -- those used in magical illusions -- are destroyed when their time onstage runs out. This is a magician tradition, as no theatrical conjurer wants anyone to figure out how his or her magic works, especially a competitor. Preserving the secrecy of magic tricks isn’t the only motive for destruction, however. Michael Gill of the Gill Theatrical Agency recalls how, in Broadway shows, “after the final curtain, the whole show goes in the dumpster.” This is to protect union-affiliated designers and craftsmen who didn’t want their work re-used without compensation. It’s understandable, given how much money it takes to put on a big production these days. Celine Dion’s at Caesar’s Palace, designed by Cirque du Soleil alumnus Franco Dragone, is rumored to have cost upwards of $55 million to create.
Louis Bradfield, head electrician for at Bally’s (and a Las Vegas show crewman since 1964) remembers working on the first at the Tropicana. Back then, the show was still largely imported from France, including the scenery, costumes and props. All those materials were imported without customs charges, with one condition: When the show reached the end of its run, everything had to be burned in the presence of a U.S. Customs officer. “We’d just haul it all out to a bare spot in the desert and light a bonfire,” remembers Bradfield. Nowadays, anything that gets taken out of Jubilee! just gets chopped up and trashed to avoid paying for storage.
Vanishing shows that rely heavily on special effects might have their costumes, sets and fabricated props destroyed, but their technology often gets sold off for use in other productions. Many of the lasers, gadgets, and gizmos from MGM Grand’s EFX! and Mandalay Bay’s Storm (both closed in 2002) have likely found new careers elsewhere -- maybe even in the shows that replaced them.
Charming as they are, it’s hard to imagine that there could be much of a post-show life for some of Vegas’ best-known set pieces. Where will Steve Wyrick’s vanishing airplane go when it disappears for the last time? Since it’s a magic prop, it’s probably doomed to the junkyard. What about the giant inflatable snail that finishes Cirque du Soleil’s at Treasure Island? If the mega-popularity of Mystere should ever fade, the snail would likely go into storage at Cirque’s home base in Montreal.
Vanishing props
Not every show has to be worry about the depressing alternatives of warehouse or incinerator. Smaller productions, like the many, increasingly popular impersonator shows, have few props or set pieces to begin with. And their costumes are generic enough to be interchangeable. “We refurbish and rotate costumes among our performers all the time,” notes Connie Clark of Legends in Concert. For example, would you really notice if the black suit-coat worn by “Paul McCartney” in Las Vegas later turned up on one of the “Blues Brothers” in Atlantic City, by way of “Wayne Newton” in Branson? Legends in Concert has shows in all three cities, and their stable of costumes and performers regularly moves between venues.
Regardless of where all this ephemera ends up, it’s too bad more doesn’t find its way to the homes of collectors and fans. Las Vegas fixture Melinda, “the Mistress of Magic,” closed her long-running show in 2002, which forced Las Vegas to say goodbye to some of the most baroquely weird props in town. The standout was the giant screw machine that actually impaled poor Melinda during a harrowing “dream sequence.” Unfortunately, as a magician’s illusion, the screw machine was consigned to the scrap heap (or at least, no one will admit otherwise). That’s a real shame -- piloting that rig down the freeway would definitely get you some respect on the morning commute.
Chris Mohney is a contributor to "."