A Reno Weekend, Part IV: Casinos & Chuck Close
Bright and early Sunday morning, once we’d left the hot-air balloons behind, we found ourselves seeking breakfast in downtown Reno. At that early hour, the streets were deserted, the casinos and sad-looking souvenir shops still closed up tight. The Nugget, however, a dingy old-school casino, was open, and we traipsed through the small sea of slot machines to reach the diner in the back—a place I’d read had a good cheap breakfast. Unfortunately, my pregnancy-related glucose intolerance made the $1.99 breakfast special—two pancakes and an egg—forbidden. So Andrew got the special and I got eggs and (whole wheat) toast. The food was fine, but this was, hands-down, the dive-iest breakfast place we’ve ever been too. We considered doing some slots on the way out, then decided that a lucky win might put us in physical danger from the few other patrons, so we continued on our way.
There were still several hours until check-out at the Grand Sierra Resort, so we took a nap and then did a little slot-machining in the casino. We won $20, which we should have just held onto, but instead we got greedy and lost it all.
Finally, we were on our way to our last stop for the weekend, the “highbrow” portion of the trip—the Nevada Museum of Art. We weren’t sure what to expect from a Reno museum, but we’d found out that there was a Chuck Close exhibition there, and we wanted to check it out. We were surprised to find a very new museum—it was built in 2003—that reminded us, in appearance and collection, of the CaixaForum in Barcelona. It had that same well-curated, airy feeling, with just enough art for a solid hour or so of perusing. Besides the Chuck Close works—part of a portrait exhibition that also featured a work by one of my favorite artists, Sophie Calle—there was a selection of “grid” pictures by Bernd and Hilla Becher. We’ve seen these images many times, in many museums in many places, and it’s always nice to revisit them. We discovered a photographer we hadn’t heard of before—Carleton Watkins—who took beautiful pictures of Yosemite in the 1800s. By the time we reached the museum’s roof, my pregnant body had had just about enough activity.
Two and a half hours later, we were home, incredulous that we’d been gone for only thirty or so hours; we felt we’d been away for much longer. We packed a lot into our Reno weekend, and it was, for so many reasons, unforgettable.
There were still several hours until check-out at the Grand Sierra Resort, so we took a nap and then did a little slot-machining in the casino. We won $20, which we should have just held onto, but instead we got greedy and lost it all.
Finally, we were on our way to our last stop for the weekend, the “highbrow” portion of the trip—the Nevada Museum of Art. We weren’t sure what to expect from a Reno museum, but we’d found out that there was a Chuck Close exhibition there, and we wanted to check it out. We were surprised to find a very new museum—it was built in 2003—that reminded us, in appearance and collection, of the CaixaForum in Barcelona. It had that same well-curated, airy feeling, with just enough art for a solid hour or so of perusing. Besides the Chuck Close works—part of a portrait exhibition that also featured a work by one of my favorite artists, Sophie Calle—there was a selection of “grid” pictures by Bernd and Hilla Becher. We’ve seen these images many times, in many museums in many places, and it’s always nice to revisit them. We discovered a photographer we hadn’t heard of before—Carleton Watkins—who took beautiful pictures of Yosemite in the 1800s. By the time we reached the museum’s roof, my pregnant body had had just about enough activity.
Two and a half hours later, we were home, incredulous that we’d been gone for only thirty or so hours; we felt we’d been away for much longer. We packed a lot into our Reno weekend, and it was, for so many reasons, unforgettable.
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