At 1000fragrances.com this morning is a surprise: a book you smell. The pages are glass, each fronting what I suppose is the equivalent of blotter paper, and the glass is porous enough to let the perfume on the paper seep through very slowly. Only twelve pages are in the “book,” but there are also twelve vials of the molecular compound so that pages can be “recharged.” Whether this is practical or not and whether there are any advantages beyond just sniffing the vials themselves is an open question. Maybe glass pages are just a gimmick.
But people have been trying to do something similar (scratch ‘n sniff) for quite a while, to the point where magazines with samples finally had to be sent out in plastic pockets for the sake of people who were either offended or allergic. We’re a very split society when it comes to smells. On the one hand we claim to find them markers of class (body odor, cheap perfume) and on the other we spend hundreds of dollars on tiny bottles of certain mixtures, so people will inquire, “Oh, what’s the name of that heavenly smell?” Everyone fantasizes about pheromones, those “invisible” odors that only moths can smell, and would like a little bottle of stuff that would make them irresistible to certain parties. The scented candle parts of some gift stores are enough to knock you down. In fact, I’ve felt a little faint myself.
I’ve been reading about perfumes long enough to realize that there are many sources and that smells are gateways to consciousness, but most perfumes are meant to be a time art propelled by human body temperature, which provides the heat for dissemination and “dry down,” which reveals new aspects of the scent. Perfumes on surfaces not worn are different. Presumably the glass covers on the pages would keep the scents from interacting with ambient air or even fingers introduced to turn the pages.
The nose is a direct extension of the brain into the face, which is what makes it such a good route for drug delivery, whether glue fumes or virus inoculation or decongestant. Scientists struggle to know just how the sensory cells manage to analyze the incredible number of molecules we can smell, quite apart from the question of what the dog is smelling that lets them know we’re short on insulin. The earlier theories from Luca Turin were that molecules “dock” with tabs that fit ports on the cells, which we know is often the way molecules act in the body, but now the cutting edge is something called “quantum tunneling” which is far beyond my understanding. For one thing, a special vocabulary is necessary, let alone concepts.
Turin was interested in designing smells for household cleaners, which you probably found out when you stopped at the shelf of dish-washing liquids and had to choose among five versions. But Coiffan’s worst insult is that a perfume smells like detergent. The last load of clothes I brought into the house to finish drying was decidedly pungent. There are certain women in this town who do contract cleaning and make sure you know when they were there (since they often clean businesses in the middle of the night or homes when occupants are at work) by leaving the place reeking of Pine-sol or bleach. Some people find this reassuring and others are repelled.
And there’s the trouble with smells: they are idiosyncratic, often culture bound. Part of the reason I think about them so much is that all my life my mother told me about taking me into a Chinatown shop in San Francisco when I was about three, a talking toddler. I wrinkled my nose and loudly announced that it smelled funny. She thought this was very funny (I don’t know why). I don’t.
AROMAPOETRY - a book to be read with the nose by Eduardo Kac
World premiere of Aromapoetry
Enghien-les-Bains Art Center, Enghien-les-Bains, France,
"Invisible & Insaisissable / Elusive & Invisible"
September 23rd to December 16th, 2011
"Aromapoetry is a new kind of poetry in which the compositional unit (the poem) is made up of smells. The poet "writes" the smells by conceiving the poem as an olfactory experience and then employing multiple chemical procedures to achieve his poetic goals. It goes without saying that, as in any kind of poetry, the reader is an active participant that interprets and thus ascribes his or her own meanings to the poem beyond the writer's original motivations.
“In my book Aromapoetry, the first book ever written exclusively with smells, readers find twelve aromapoems that range widely in their material structure and semantic resonance. While I composed some of my aromapoems with only one or two molecules, most of them are composed of dozens of molecules each. In some cases, a single poem has distinct olfactory zones on the page—each comprised of dozens of molecules each. In other words, the level of molecular intricacy of the works in Aromapoetry varies from the very simple to the extremely complex.
“I composed the twelve poems in Aromapoetry so as to provide the reader with a broad field of aromatic experiences. The titles simultaneously delineate and open up the semantic sphere of each work. Each poem is a distinct and self-contained composition. At the same time, the book has a dynamic internal rhythm produced through the alternation of different or contrasting smells.
“Every poem in the book Aromapoetry employs nanotechnology by binding an extremely thin layer of porous glass (200 nanometers thick) to every page, trapping the odorants (i.e. the volatile molecules) and releasing them very slowly. Without this nanotechnology, the fragrances would quickly dissipate and the smells would no longer be experienced after a few days. To ensure even greater longevity, a set of small bottles is integrated into the book, allowing the reader to recharge every individual page. With an eye to the distant future, the book’s summary presents key molecules used in the production of each poem.
“Aromapoetry is a book to be read with the nose."
Eduardo Kac, Aromapoetry (2011), artist's book with box and slipcase, twelve custom-made aromas enmeshed in a nanolayer of mesoporous glass, letterpress text and graphics, 16 2ml vials with engraved titles, 11.69" x 8.27" x 2" (297 mm x 210 mm x 50.8 mm), edition of 10 signed and numbered by the artist.
No comments:
Post a Comment