Welcome to smell world. Smell world, to me, exists in the space of an unremarked zone between the source of a smell and the human nose.

In this podcast, previously performed at the British Library in November 2017, I would like to introduce you to a physical space of the double invisible sense. Smell.

Quite literally we cannot see most smells, except of course those that are nestled within smoke or vapour visible in the air. And figuratively, since Aristotle said, “For it is not clear what sort of quality odour is, in the way it was clear what sort of quality sound or colour was…” smell perception was relegated to a lower order attracting less research and less attention.

This segmented radial convergence diagram can be used to facilitate interrogation of how smell vocabularies are shared between different classification systems.

Using words from 5 disciplines combined with human-perceived smells verbatim (from one of my site-specific research projects smellwalking and smellmapping in Pamplona) the diagram suggests how the smells might be categorised according to specialist aroma wheels and classification systems. Cross-referencing expert olfactory terminologies from different disciplines reveals a complexity and confusion in labelling smells, leaves some smells without ‘homes’ and indicates a need for alternative strategies when representing the urban vernacular smellscape.

Porteous advocated the smellwalk as a tool for exploring the smellscape in his seminal 1985 paper citing a Lynchean model as his inspiration for how a smellwalk might manifest. The soundscape studies/acoustic ecologies field is full of useful reference and provides a theoretical reference for the practice and its provenance.

Smellwalking methodology is integral to my practice; this “reflection” traces the influences and links as I developed it over a period of six years.

Walking through the smellcape is a model to explore the volumetric properties of Singapore’s scentscape, previously visualised in Scentscape 06.215 Singapore.

This sculpture envisages human-centred experience of the smellscape as a dimensional form. The duration of each perceived smell was ‘measured’ by smellwalkers using a Likert scale of 1 – 7 and averaged in each neighbourhood. Additional layers of dots were added to represent increasing durations. The model takes a small section of the overall map and renders it in three dimensions.

Singapore prefers not to smell, instead it scents.

The city’s warm outdoor streets are redolent with ubiquitous frangipani and jasmine. Whereas interior public spaces tend to be olfactorily-curated to the extent that a local (albeit pungent) fruit, the durian, is forbidden. Commercial environments are frequently scented and carefully designed to demarcate brands in a shopping space.

Sometimes it is hard to imagine the possibility of any perceptible presence of everyday urban smells. Singapore is an island city state with a diversity of cultures, a preoccupation with food and a groundhog day equatorial climate. On what would its ‘citizen sensors’ remark through scentwalking the city?

The sun also took care of all smells. I don’t remember any smells. Or only the smell of the spent hand-flare shells. They smelled like cumin. Did I mention that?

I remember the smell of the spent hand-flare shells. By some freak of nature they smelled exactly like cumin. It was intoxicating. I sniffed the plastic shells and immediately Pondicherry came to life in my mind, a marvellous relief from the disappointment of calling for relief and not being heard. The experience was very strong, nearly a hallucination. From a single smell a whole town arose. (Now when I smell cumin, I see the Pacific Ocean.)”

– Martel, Y (2003) The Life of Pi p. 238 Edinburgh. Canongate