Duck vs. Decorated Shed Through the Lens of Vegas Resorts

When Robert Venturi, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour published Learning from Las Vegas in 1972, they reshaped the way architects think about symbolism. Their now-famous terms—the “Duck” and the “Decorated Shed”—describe two fundamentally different ways buildings communicate meaning.

Let’s look at what the terms mean and how they have helped shape the Entertainment Capital of the World we know today.

Venturi borrowed the word “Duck” from a literal example: a duck-shaped roadside shop on Long Island that sold poultry and eggs. The building itself was a three-dimensional symbol of its function. In a Duck, meaning and structure are inseparable. The walls, roof, and massing all serve as an icon. Rather than having a sign tell you what the building is, its very form delivers the message.

In Las Vegas, Ducks thrive because resorts often transform themselves into oversized symbols of the fantasy they promise. The Luxor is perhaps the most prominent example. Its black glass pyramid and colossal sphinx not only house a casino and hotel, but also broadcast “Egypt” from every angle.

Likewise, the Excalibur resort is not just decorated with a few medieval motifs. Instead, the entire building becomes a castle, with turrets, drawbridges, and iconic walls.

Even Circus Circus, with its sweeping circus-tent roofline, operates as a Duck because the exterior structure itself tells you you’re entering a carnival of sorts

Ducks immerse you before you even step inside. They are architecture as narrative, where the building becomes a character in the story it’s telling.

The Decorated Shed represents the opposite approach. Instead of making the structure itself symbolic, the building is fundamentally a neutral box that’s simple, functional, and adaptable. Its meaning is then “applied” through signage, ornament, and decoration. Venturi argued that this approach is more honest, because the building doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is.

On the Las Vegas Strip, Decorated Sheds are everywhere.

Caesars Palace, for example, is essentially a hotel tower and casino floor wrapped in applied Roman imagery, including columns, arches, and lettering that transform a conventional high-rise into a fantasy of ancient Rome.

The Stardust followed the same logic. The hotel itself was a modernist slab, but its unforgettable neon sign, with its glowing cosmic letters and galaxy of starbursts, gave it personality. Without the sign, the building could have been any mid-century resort but with the sign, it became an icon.

Even Treasure Island fits this category: behind its pirate ship façade and themed signage lies a standard high-rise hotel.

Decorated Sheds show us how architecture and graphics can work together. The shed provides the practical space and the decoration provides the drama. The magic lies not in the form itself but in the applied symbolism that transforms a plain box into a themed experience.

Venturi and his team described Las Vegas as a supermarket stretched to city scale. Shoppers were not pedestrians but drivers, speeding down the Strip in cars. To compete for attention, every casino, hotel, and retailer invested in massive, expressive road signs loaded with symbolism, vernacular references, and seductive messaging.

Because the buildings were set far back from the road and separated from the Strip by huge parking lots, the signs had to do the heavy lifting. They needed to grab attention, communicate identity in an instant, and lure people in. Venturi and his colleagues identified these signs as the new architecture. Just as Renaissance churches conveyed their religious meaning through sculpted designs, Las Vegas used roadside signs to draw people in. In both cases, the applied surface carried the story of the building inside.

One of the most interesting applications of Venturi’s theory is looking at longevity. Ducks often create unforgettable landmarks, but they can also become dated as tastes and cultural references change.

The Luxor’s pyramid, for instance, remains a skyline icon, but over the decades its interiors have steadily shifted away from the Egyptian theme to appeal to modern audiences.

The Excalibur still draws families, but its castle form can feel kitschy to visitors seeking a more contemporary luxury experience. Ducks make bold statements, but their rigid symbolism can limit their flexibility over time.

Decorated Sheds, by contrast, have proven easier to update. Resorts like Caesars Palace have continuously reinvented themselves by updating designs, adding new signage, or refreshing interiors without changing the core building structure.

The same was true for the Stardust, whose plain hotel slab could have been endlessly re-skinned with new signage if it hadn’t been demolished.

Today, The Cosmopolitan takes this approach to its contemporary form: its minimalist towers serve as a blank canvas for ever-changing digital displays, marketing campaigns, and experiential branding.

This Duck and Decorated Shed dynamic shows why Las Vegas never stops reinventing itself. Ducks give the city its most memorable silhouettes, but Decorated Sheds allow properties to evolve with shifting cultural trends.

This theory is so fascinating to our team that it’s built right into the name of Duck Duck Shed, The Neon Museum’s festival of architecture, design, and culture. Just as Venturi divided buildings into Ducks and Decorated Sheds, the event explores both extremes of Las Vegas design.

Duck Duck Shed attendees explore various aspects of gaming, entertainment, and cuisine through an evolutionary lens by hearing from those who built this one-of-a-kind city. Sessions by acclaimed authors and industry leaders are joined with walking tours, backstage access, and first-person insights, leaving visitors with a greater appreciation for Las Vegas’ cultural contributions.

Duck Duck Shed celebrates the seminal book that started it all, inviting audiences to see not just the architecture of Las Vegas but the ideas behind it, including the ideas that continue to shape how the city reinvents itself again and again.

Las Vegas remains the ultimate stage for Venturi’s theory. Ducks and Decorated Sheds stand side by side on the Strip, each offering a different lesson in how architecture communicates. And through Duck Duck Shed, you can explore both sides of the story with 4 days of Las Vegas architecture, design and culture.

• Venturi, Robert, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour. Learning from Las Vegas: The Forgotten Symbolism of Architectural Form. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1977. https://www.amazon.com/Learning-Las-Vegas-Forgotten-Architectural/dp/026272006X
• Artsy Editors. “The Quirky and Endearing Tradition of Duck Architecture.” Artsy, July 11, 2017. https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-quirky-endearing-tradition-duck-architecture
• Mars, Roman. “Lessons from Sin City: Architecture, Ducks versus Decorated Sheds.” 99% Invisible, February 18, 2014. https://99percentinvisible.org/article/lessons-sin-city-architecture-ducks-versus-decorated-sheds/
• Design Made. “Duck & Decorated Shed.” Design Made, 2019. https://www.design-made.com/sites/default/files/downloads/readable/Short-2_Duck%20%26%20Decorated%20Shed_designmade_0