Sightseeing suggestion: Better practice that Tower of Pisa-style “lean” from Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal video before you wander these walkways. That may be the only way to gain any “straightforward” perspective on Aria’s geometrically head-spinning architecture.

Otherwise, if anything appears square and boxy in design—that is, it doesn’t look curved, angled, undulated, wavy, scalloped, scooped out or swooped upward, downward or sideways—well, you be trippin’, babe.

“It’s statement artwork,” says Shannon McCallum, executive director of hotel operations, about Aria’s curvilinear cornucopia.

Poker Room

Poker Room

As the anchor structure of the 67-acre CityCenter—its name representing the highlighted portion of any opera—its aesthetic flair carries the signature of the firm Pelli Clarke Pelli, the architects behind New York’s World Financial Center and Malaysia’s Petronas Towers. “A lot of attention to detail went into the design of Aria. It’s very futuristic.”

Generously stocked with amenities, Aria includes 10 bars and lounges, Cirque du Soleil’s spectacular production Zarkana, a high-end spa, energy derived from sustainable, environmentally friendly resources, the mall mecca known as The Shops at Crystals and high-tech technology in its 4,004 rooms—guests can program the lights, drapes, TV and temperature.

“When we opened in 2009, our guests didn’t know what to make of it,” McCallum says. “People were like, ‘How do I use this thing?’ But we do have traditional light switches and remote control and thermostat so you can do it manually if you choose. Over the years we get less phone calls as people are curious to try out the panel by the bed. The user interface is very approachable.”

Add to that 16 restaurants—including the imminent debut of Italian eatery Carbone (more on that shortly)—but it’s still the freebie pleasures that abound at Aria: Strolling and staring.

Say, at artist Tony Cragg’s twisty steel statues inside the parking atrium that are very open to interpretation (here’s one: the scarily suave, liquid-metal cyborg from Terminator 2: Judgment Day). Or at a rich trove of design elements, public art and skylights, keeping you on a 360-degree gawking tour.

Take in these highlights: the poker room, its walls dressed as houses of gold playing cards; overhead lighting sheathed in rectangular containers overlaid with gold twigs and ringlets; towering sheets of angled, orange panels wrapping the high-limit lounge in warmth and mystery; huge, spiraling rings of brown wood rising from the baccarat room to meet see-through ceiling cutouts; a mini-replica of a Mayan temple greeting café diners; wall beams swimming in dolphin and butterfly imagery; and a lighted feature that syncs water bursts to music.

All of which accounts for about 1.5 percent of the visuals—not counting the main lobby. There, gaze straight ahead at the statue of a horse in a bowler hat and vivid green foliage immaculately shaped into figures, or upward at big mobiles of clouds with umbrella handles, swings, ladders and diamond raindrops dangling beneath.

Suspended behind the registration desk is Silver River, an 87-foot-long, 3,700-pound installation by Maya Lin, designer of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, depicting the Colorado River and made of reclaimed silver. “It speaks to our environment,” McCallum says. “To being responsible about our water usage.”

Got sightseeing hunger pangs? About to open is Carbone—its third installment after the 2013 opening of its flagship in Greenwich Village and the Hong Kong version’s debut last year—on the promenade level. Not, however, a copy.

“We’re not trying to mimic the darker, clubbier vibe of New York,” says chef/partner Mario Carbone. “It’s a big space, grand ceilings; we’ve embraced theatrical grandeur. I don’t want this to be Carbone New York in Las Vegas. I want it to be Carbone Las Vegas.”

Lauded as a 2013 finalist for the James Beard Best New Restaurant award, Carbone brings not just old-school Italian culinary cred westward—the menu includes lobster fra diavola, chicken scarpariello, veal Parmesan and octopus pizzaiolo—but an old-school experience. “It’s not about me as the chef,” Carbone says.

“The time period we operate in is mid-(20th) century New York City. It coincides with the first-generation of Italian-Americans becoming parents and business owners. It’s almost Godfather Part II instead of (The Godfather), where Vito was born in the motherland and Michael was born in New York. If you were in a fine-dining restaurant in the 1950s, you didn’t give a (damn) who the chef was. We try to capture that period in the music and uniforms and manner of service.”

How? Note the “captains”—the ones in burgundy tuxedoes—as Carbone’s signature feature, guiding diners through their meal, plus tableside food preparation.

“We hope you succumb to the captain and his recommendations,” Carbone says. “Let him create your meal. He’ll take your cocktail order, walk you through the menu, circle back and have a conversation of, ‘What do we want to have for dinner tonight?’ A professional waiter reads his customers. I love it when a waiter takes control of his table and says, ‘I’m going to put together something nice for you.’”

Once your belly is full, pulling off that Michael Jackson lean might get easier for a little more strolling and staring.