Light floods the inside—everywhere. The wonderful, airy lobby opens out onto huge views of the outdoor pool, and the hotel is bisected by a long corridor, studded with skylights, that runs through the spine of thebuilding. It is virtually impossible to get lost in the interior, and while the glass lets in plenty of sunlight, it also exposes the lights of the casino to the outside at night.
The two-story base of the resort—which houses the restaurants and bars and casino—is clad in travertine and chocolate-brown porcelain tiles. While the stone provides appropriate contrast to the glass tower, it’s the only part of the building that feels uninspired. It’s solid but forgettable.
The M continues the evolution of large-scale design in Las Vegas, and the continued rehabilitation, for most of us, of the word “modern”in architecture. This being Vegas, eventually the M will morph into some kind of small resort city—expansion plans include theaters, a regional mall, a second tower and possibly a residential component. Right now, though, the singular curving tower, set down all alone at the edge of town, has a certain clarity. While it’s unlikely Las Vegans will give up their faux-Tuscan stucco homes, the M brings the glassy allure of contemporary design a little closer to home.