Sign of the times

The Las Vegas Academy isn’t like any other valley high school. For starters, its building is older than the students who scamper through its halls — the downtown campus was built in 1931.

More importantly, the Las Vegas Academy is a magnet program that emphasizes studies in performing arts and foreign languages. Putting on plays, musicals, concerts and art shows for the public is part of the school’s mission. Unlike a typical Clark County high school, which might have a dozen such gatherings each academic year, the Las Vegas Academy stages about 130 special events per annum.

Principal Stephen Clark wants to increase awareness of his students’ considerable talents. Three years ago, the academy was forced to tear down its marquee after it was struck by a vehicle. So Mr. Clark has proposed building a 12-foot electronic message board on Seventh Street, on the same spot the old sign stood, to publicize the school’s upcoming performances to passing traffic.

Which brings us back to the school’s first defining characteristic, its old building. In 2002, it was designated a historic structure, the beacon of the Las Vegas High School Historic District. And simple, practical projects — like replacing a damaged, dilapidated sign — are never simple or practical when pretentious academics and meddling bureaucrats are charged with treating old neighborhoods like time capsules.

Members of the city’s Historic Preservation Commission have wrung their hands for a month over the plans for the electronic sign, urging the school and the Nevada Sign company to better blend the sign with the school and the neighborhood.

“The electronic nature of the sign is really a problem for some board members,” said Janet R. White, a preservation board member and UNLV architecture teacher.

“Harmony in a physical environment relaxes you; it decreases stress,” she said. “That neighborhood is a calm oasis in this city, and I feel strongly that it is one of the few places where everyone can feel quiet, subdued and restful. We have to protect that.”

Ms. White needs to extinguish her incense and visit the school during student drop-off and arrival. Or at the end of the school day, or on a show night. Or try meditating on the building’s lawn during the morning or evening rush hour, for that matter. This is a bustling hive of advanced study in the heart of the city’s urban core.

But more than that, it’s a hub of boisterous song and dance, of creative vigor, international studies and eclectic student spirit. It aspires to be an arts destination for Las Vegas residents, not some giant, mushy ball the public can squeeze to “feel quiet, subdued and restful.”

You’d think the school wanted to erect giant video screens scaled for a Strip casino. The idea that an electronic sign barely taller than a basketball hoop would “pollute” a historic district, as Ms. White believes, is politically correct pap.

Las Vegas Municipal Code vaguely requires alterations to historic districts to have “a pleasing visual relationship between elements of a property, building or structure.” Already, Principal Clark and Nevada Sign have proposed adding features to the sign to simulate the building’s front entrance and a plaque that explains the building’s historic significance.

“The code says ‘compatibility’ and the sign we proposed, we feel, is quite compatible,” said Mr. Clark.

Not to mention necessary. There’s nothing to identify the campus to Seventh Street traffic, let alone promote its cultural offerings.

The Historic Preservation Commission still appears inclined to reject the electronic sign at its next meeting.

If the commission does that, the Las Vegas City Council should toss aside the recommendation and approve the electronic sign on its own. The Las Vegas Academy deserves and needs a sign that fits its image and its energy: bright, modern and brimming with activity.