（To be Con't）Second, the exploration seeks innovative methodologies – autoethnography in the present case, which can communicate experience and reconstruct it in vivid, lively and sometimes painful ways. By pursuing the research of experience in an evocative fashion, a presentation is possible whereby insights into and appreciation of the subject matter of experience is reached. In this regard, the present research is part of recent advancements in tourism research methodologies (Aitchison, 2000; Ateljevic et al., 2007; Botterill, 2003).

Third, the field of ‘tourist experience’ is presently construed as an integral part of everyday experience of people living in late-modern times in affluent societies. Following the advancements made by Urry (1990), this research holds with the notions that the cultures of tourism, and the experiences these cultures embody and endow, are but one sphere of the whole of our lived, everyday experiences. According to this view, the notion of ‘tourist experience’ entails a dazzling array of human experiences that emerge when people engage in the

sphere of tourism, via its many institutional extensions, representations and guises. The point is that people are constantly in touch with various cultures of tourism, and are, in one way or another, ‘much of the time “tourists”’ (Urry, 1990: 82). Hence the tourist experience is often an extension of people’s everyday experiences, amounting, as Richards and Wilson (2004: 254) note, to a ‘home plus’ experience.

Fourth, tourists’ behaviors, including the expression of feelings, emotions,  experiences, and memories are presently conceived as performances. Following the above notion concerning the cultures of tourism, the category ‘tourist’ is construed as one which engulfs a cultural symbol of modern experience (MacCannell, 1976). This symbol can be embodied through different roles people assume when they uptake tourism endeavors. In this vein, embodying tourist roles means performing tourism. Tourism is construed as a discerned set of aesthetic activities which take place in discernable spaces wherein tourists do not only cast the tourist gaze, but are also the subjects and objects of that gaze (Adler, 1989; Edensor, 1998).

More specifically, it means performing various states of experience and modes of being on the international social stages of tourism. However, since the borders between tourists’ experiences and everyday experiences are continuously blurring, some tourism-related activities, which are not performed within designated tourist spaces, are also construed as tourist or tourist-related performances (Noy, 2004). Such is the present case, where travel writing in the form of a poem, is construed and interpreted as a product (and a trace) of tourist performance.


A Tourist Autoethnography

Autoethnography is a critical and reflexive way of inquiry that flourished mainly within the North American qualitative movement in the social sciences during the last decade. Appreciating the strengths and weaknesses of this way of inquiry, as well as the implications it bears and the impact it carries on various fields of research, requires acknowledging its inherent relation to the diverse family of qualitative research methodologies (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000).

Yet even within the family of qualitative research methodologies autoethnography presents a rather radical approach; a subversive and oftentimes provocative relative. Autoethnography is a way of inquiry that is wholeheartedly – morally, emotionally and ideologically – committed to the subject of the research, namely to people and to their complex, intricate lives and experiences.

Chaim Noy·The Poetics of Tourist Experience: An Autoethnography of a Family Trip to Eilat 1

（Chaim Noy，2007，The Poetics of Tourist Experience: An Autoethnography of a Family Trip to Eilat，Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change. January 2007, P141-157) 

This paper is an autoethnographic exploration of a tourist’s experience. Through interpreting qualitative material, in the form of a poem I wrote in 1994 about a short familial excursion to an Israeli seaside resort city (Eilat), the research seeks to sensitively describe the intricacies of travel experience. The research explores the advantages of the autoethnographic method of inquiry, and discusses tourism-related emotions and memories in the context of performance and representation. The paper joins recent efforts in attempting to challenge and loosen the grip of positivist epistemologies and discourses on mainstream tourism studies, by illustrating the emotional complexities and contradictions in the travel experience of tourists. In line with traditions

of critical research in sociology, the exploration sheds light on the materiality of texts and on the role language plays in tourism, viewing the poem read in this paper (‘Quiet Eilat’) simultaneously as a representation, performance and material object of discourse.

Keywords: performance, qualitative methodology, language, family, travel literature, poetic expression

Introduction: Performing Experience Research into the experiences of tourists, commonly referred to as the ‘tourist experience’, has a respectable tradition within the sociological research of tourists (Cohen, 1974, 1979). Through employing the conceptual categories suggested by Cohen, various researches productively explored the typology of tourists’ possible and actual experiential modes (Lengkeek, 2001; Sternberg,

1997; Wickens, 2002). These works have further enhanced as well as criticized Cohen’s early tourist typologies. Generally, they directed scholarly attention to the unique experiential characteristics of tourists’ phenomenology, and contributed to the growing understanding of the intertwined psychological, social and

cultural possibilities that are promoted and embodied by modern tourism.

While invaluable, Cohen’s formulations tended to stimulate highly theoretical research, often aiming at neat conceptual categories and clear theoretical typologies. Due to this tendency, researches neglected the details of tourists’ lived experience, and did not allocate sufficient grounds for these experiences before theorizing and conceptually categorizing them. Indeed, although Cohen’s early works were inspired by phenomenological and existential trends of thought, new methodologies, that would have captured in more sensitive and informed ways the ‘tourist experience,’ did not follow. The present exploration addresses this state of affairs by pursuing the following sensitivities and sensibilities.

First, close – even intimate – attention is paid to the experiences themselves. Indeed, the bulk of the paper is devoted to a detailed evocation of the experience of a tourist excursion. The emotional dimension of the tourist experience is elaborated, with emphasis on negative hues, which are not commonly associated with tourists’ experiences and emotions.

文創企業產品開發

近年來，「文創」是一個非常熱的詞語，越來越多的商業業態與文化創意元素進行跨界混搭。許多人以為文創設計就是將某種帶有文化屬性的圖文附加在現有的產品上，這樣的理解並不是正確的。

故宮文創節氣海報

文創產品是是從文化的不同方面詮釋的一種物化形態，也就是說文化才是文創產品設計的重要元素。設計師利用原生文化的美學特征、人文精神、文化元素，再通過自身對文化的理解和詮釋，將其與產品相結合，最終形成文化創意產品。

因此要想設計出受歡迎和有內涵的文創產品，首先要深入了解對應的文化，最重要則是如何選擇可用的文化元素。蘊涵文化氣息的產品會在無形中提高自身的價值，在同類產品中脫穎而出。 一起來看看別人家有優秀的文創設計產品吧~

01 故宮博物院

說到文創，沒有人會忽略故宮博物館，這座將近百歲的建築在現在依然受到了很大歡迎，文創產品功不可沒。

2014年，故宮微信公眾號發送了一篇叫做《雍正：感覺自己萌萌噠》的推文，從此故宮的文創屬性開始覺醒。隨後，掌握了「流量密碼」的故宮推出了「朕就是這樣漢子」折扇等一系列創意的文創產品。故宮文創多次在朋友圈刷屏，成為網紅中的清流。

2016年推出的紀錄片《我在故宮修文物》獲得豆瓣評分9.4分，在年輕群體中的口碑很好。故宮IP對應的受眾變得年輕化，與之相對應地，文創產品的設計也開始切合年輕人的使用習慣，故宮推出了「國寶色」口紅、每日故宮APP等產品。

02 西西弗書店

西西弗書店是國內獨立書店中的佼佼者，註重引導讀者進行精品和深度閱讀，這一點從西西弗書店的裝修和文創產品中就可以看出來。書店裝修采用墨綠色的色調，歐式櫥窗和紅黑配色是它的特色，整個書店布局清新雅致，給人一種簡約美，營造出濃厚的閱讀氛圍。

下圖是西西弗書店的會員卡，標誌性的深紅色和手繪、插畫元素相結合，再加上書店主打與「閱讀的力量」，看起來非常有情懷。文創產品的設計和品牌的視覺形象一致，既能體現品牌特色，又能增加美感。


03 大英博物館

大英博物館成立於1753年，館內有800多萬件藏品，是世界上規模最大、最著名的博物館之一。

下圖是大英博物館推出的木乃伊棺槨造型鉛筆盒，設計師在鉛筆盒上繪製了古埃及木乃伊的插畫，消費者打開鉛筆盒時就能感受到歷史的莊嚴感。雖說是棺槨，卻又一點也不陰森，別具風情。

04 企鵝圖書

「三段式書封」是企鵝出版社的經典造型， 2009 年英國皇家郵政局發行的「影響英國的十個經典設計」的郵票中，企鵝「三段式」書封與雙層巴士、MINI 汽車一起成為了代表英倫文化的符號。

因此企鵝圖書在推出文創產品時首先選擇的就是「三段式」設計，下圖是企鵝三段式帆布袋、陶瓷馬克杯等周邊產品。顏色清新明快，樣式俏皮可愛，又不失文學氣息。

依托於文創產品，濃厚的歷史文化不再只是停留在史書、影像中，它們以更貼近日常生活的方式不斷向我們靠近，越來越年輕化、越來越鮮活有力；被賦予了文化價值的產品，其內涵也隨之提高，而不再僅僅停留於產品層面。（原題「文創」概念都被玩壞了，來看看真正的文創產品設計）/https://www.canva.cn）

熊本縣和水町×熊本縣立大學——鄉山再生「建設溫馨之鄉」項目

8年前，大型企業要在這裏建廠。在企業、行政、熊本縣立大學三者的合作推動下持續至今，使梯田和農田重新煥發生機。學生們種出的無農藥大米出現在大學食堂餐桌上。

插秧的景象

與當地居民進行交流

玉名郡和水町位於熊本縣北部，跟福岡縣鄰接，此處山間有一處「和睦森林」，隨著人口劇減而人跡罕至。但在這一片荒蕪的鄉裏山間，卻回蕩起了學生和地區的孩子們杵年糕的號子聲，慰勞一年農忙辛勞的杵年糕大會成了毎年慣例。

梯田裏整齊地擺放著秋天收割後的稻草束，一旁牛和山羊吃草的怡然風景展現在人們眼前。

鄉山再生活動「溫馨之鄉項目」開始至今快要有8年了。活動毎月舉辦１回。參加活動的有：以地區居民為主體的「溫馨之鄉協議會」以及熊本縣立大學的教職員工和學生們，毎回都有許多學生自發地參加插秧、割稻、保養鄉間道路等活動，通過各類勞動，在辛勤揮汗的同時，也加深了與地區居民的交流。

起因是征地建廠

           杵年糕大會

熊本縣立大學為了在各個領域與行政部門、企業等進行合作，制定了振興地區、調查研究等綜合協定制度，並為貫徹該大學「地區實學主義」理念的教育，在各地區開展著各種活動。

活動之一的該項目目的在於：通過大學與行政、企業合作，開展持續性活動，讓荒蕪的鄉山得以再生後，能吸引地區居民和孩子們来遊玩。

項目舞臺是約20公頃的鄉山，原本是當地人們從事農業、休養生息的傳統鄉山，可是，隨著現代化以及少子老齡化，人們不再問津鄉裏山間，被放棄的鄉山田地裏雜草灌木叢生，鄉間道路也消失了，最後變成了荒山。

活動的起因是2005年富士電機系統株式會社（現為：富士電機控股公司）在熊本縣建廠。該公司在鄰接和水町的南關町建立了太陽能電池製造廠，並決定在該地區開展奉獻社會、與環境共生的CSR活動，此地被選為該公司與熊本縣政府以及大學聯手合作的活動場所，於2007年2月啟動了該項目。

重現梯田和農田

活動初始，高過人頭的草木茂密叢生，想踏足山裏都不是件容易的事，通過采伐、開墾、放牧這種不亞於開拓時期的活動力度，逐漸恢復了原來的面貌，以山腳下的開闊地為中心重新開墾了梯田和農田，在那裏學生們種植的無農藥大米，被送到大學食堂的餐桌上。森林裏的鄉間道路也得到修繕，成了當地孩子們也能漫步的步行山路。通過持續地再生活動，許多學生因感受到不斷變化的鄉山面貌的魅力，在校期間一直都參加這項活動。

成為可持續的活動

在縣行政部門的扶持下，在當地建造了山間小屋「冠翠鳥」作為活動據點。建造接近完工的2014年2月，突然傳來一則令人震驚消息：從初始階段至今，一直為活動提供贊助的富士電機熊本工廠將要轉讓給外資企業。學生的交通費、各種勞動工具及夥食費等，該事業的大部分活動經費是來源於這家工廠的贊助，因此大家都擔心活動是否還能持續下去。

一旦人們撤離了好不容易剛剛再生的鄉山，不要多長時間就會重新變回原來的荒山。

一想到至今為止無數參與活動的學生以及地區居民開墾荒山的辛勞，無論是大學還是鄉政府都沒有後退的選擇。

為了擺脫困境，在大學向日本文部科學省2014年度公開招募的「構築地（知）據點事業（大學COC事業）」提交申請並獲得到批準的同時，和水町也向林野庁「為發揮森林山村多樣性策略提供資金援助事業」提交了申請也獲得了批准，總算擺脫了眼前的危機。

熊本縣立大學之所以積極參加這項活動並非是將活動當作一般的慈善活動，而是將它定位為培養人才活動的一個環節，為了讓該活動成為可持續的活動，本想將它作為正規課程的一部分形成學分製度，但是每回都參加活動的學生則提出了反對意見∶「我們都是憑自己的愛好參加活動的，反對以學分為目的的人加入」，所以此事需要慎重考慮。不過，學生們有這樣的反應，其本身是一件可喜的事，為了讓這類持積極態度的學生人數不斷增多，今後，我們打算跟鄉政府合作，開展以鄉山為據點的交流以及野外調查等新事業。文／髙本篤（熊本縣立大學地區合作研究推動中心參事 / 2014年12月22日 產學研合作）

延續閱讀：動漫文創·動漫+文創：揭秘日本文化IP產業鏈（下）

Human centered

Learning is a human and preferably social process. Putting the learner at the center of your design process is called human centered design. This is an important part of how and why LX design works. This means you have to get to know and understand the people you design for. You want to figure out what drives them and how you can ignite their intrinsic motivation. That’s why getting in touch with your target audience through interviews, observations and co-creation is indispensable. People are both rational and emotional beings. We all have wants, needs, hopes, fears and doubts. So a great learning experience has to connect on a personal level. To do so, being able to distinguish and act upon differences between groups of learners and even individual learners is key.

Goal oriented

A learning experience will make no sense if you don’t reach your goals. Choosing and formulating the right goals is an important part of designing a learning experience. This can be quite a challenge, depending on the scale and complexity of the experience that you are designing. Coming up with activities that enable the learner to actually reach specific goals is vital to a great design. That’s where a thorough and innovative approach, like working with the Learning Experience Canvas, can really make a difference.

One very important aspect of LX design is what form, medium or technology you choose for a learning experience which is primarily based on the goals of the learner. This means you start with formulating the desired learning outcome and every next step in the design process, including the choice of your medium or technology, is geared towards the desired learning outcome.

LX design vs instructional design

Sometimes LX design is confused with instructional design. On the surface there are similarities but when you look closer they are fundamentally different regards to their origin, perspective, methods, skills and tools. Find out more about these differences in the next chapter "" or read the blog post "
(Source: https://lxd.org)

What is learning experience design?

Learning experience design (LX design) is the process of creating learning experiences that enable the learner to achieve the desired learning outcome in a human centered and goal oriented way.

Learning experience design is rooted in a combination of several design disciplines with the field of learning. Key design principles used in LXD come from interaction design, user experience design, experience design, graphic design and game design. These design principles are combined with elements of education, training and development,

, cognitive psychology, experiential learning, educational sciences and neuroscience.

To gain a deeper understanding of LX design it's easiest to break things down into smaller parts: experience, design and learning. These parts are quite self-explanatory and together they tell a lot about what LX design really is about.

Experience：Everything we learn comes from, that’s a fact. As mentioned earlier an experience is any situation you encounter that takes an amount of time and leaves an impression. These experiences don’t necessarily have to take place in an educational setting like a school. They can take place at home, outside, in the office or anywhere else.

Not every experience is as educational as the next. Some experiences can be straight out boring or annoying. Fortunately, we’ve all had experiences that were very educational and that will last a lifetime. Being able to design such powerful experiences is the main quality of a good LX designer.

Design

LX design is a creative design discipline. In essence, it is an applied form of art. Similar to other creative professions the LX design process typically includes research, experimentation, ideation, conceptualization, prototyping, iteration and testing. It is not a step by step systematic process, but a creative process with an outcome that’s uncertain at first and crystal clear in the end. LX designers use a mix of creative, conceptual, intellectual and analytical qualities to come up with elegant solutions that work. The main difference with other design disciplines is the fact that your design serves a purpose to learn.

Learning

LX design is about learning and not so much about teaching, instruction or training. The focus is where it should be: on the learner and the process that the learner goes through. You definitely have to understand why and how people learn in order to be effective. Experiential learning in particular is part of the foundation of LX design. As stated in the definition of lxd, you want to design a learning experience that enables the learner to reach the desired learning outcome. But how do you do that? By making the experience human centered and goal oriented.

後旅遊者：體驗的文創

一個14歲的女孩，暑假裡父母帶她遊玩了北疆和敦煌，回來後問她，好不好玩？出乎我的意料，她的回答是，感覺一般。

她説，這些地方看起來也還可以，但是比較起來，還是以前在電視裡看到的一些景點更加神奇；另外，光是看來看去，沒意思，不能互動就沒意思。

我問什麼是互動？她説的互動就是在那拉提騎馬，在喀納斯漂流，在鳴沙山滑沙。在她的行程中，最好玩的就是這些。可惜，父母擔心安全問題，沒允許在喀納斯漂流，爲此她耿耿於懷。

自然景觀如此，人文景觀的莫高窟又如何呢？她説，老師在課堂上講過敦煌莫高窟，沒想到親眼看到就是這個樣子。在她看來，莫高窟一個個的洞窟也顯得單調，比較起來，還是在鳴沙山爬沙山讓她印象更深。

女孩不知道什麼是消費文化，什麼是媒體時代，什麼是身體哲學；但是她對於旅遊的直觀感受處處都直指這個時代最基本的思想和文化問題。

這一代人對景物的觀看態度和方式變了。

過去中國文人遊山玩水講靜觀，講領悟。“萬物靜觀皆自得”；那個時候的觀景，與其説是一種身體活動，不如説是一種思想活動。“獨坐幽篁裡”，“花間一壺酒”，是古人的樂趣所在。

這種樂趣對女孩這代人不復存在。傳統的觀景是人的肉眼對風景的直觀，而依賴電視成長起來的新一代人，以對電視圖像的觀看替代了肉眼對風景的“眼見爲實”。她們看第二手現實，看圖像的圖像，看風景的風景；儘管這二者是有根本區別的，但是她們寧願相信電視，相信電視畫麵中那些更加神奇的，或是虛擬的，加工過的風景。這使得任何眼前之景在這一代人麵前降低了魅力值。

於是，她們把興奮點轉向了身體，也就是這個女孩説的“互動”。既然靜觀的活動不好玩，思想的活動也不好玩，那麼就把自己身體投入到風景中，讓自己的身體參與在對風景觀看和遊覽中。這個時候，所謂風景不過是爲身體的活動提供了一個場所，而感性的，富於刺激性的身體活動，讓女孩在參與中感到了旅遊的價值，感到了眼前風景的意義。

當代文化並不是一種抽象的存在，隻有如此具體的和一個孩子討論問題的時候，才讓人感覺到兩代人的距離感和差異性。就旅遊而言，也許我們將要面臨的，是一個“後旅遊的時代”。 （後旅遊者）

Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind

Abstract: Traditionally, architectural practice has been dominated by the eye/sight. In recent decades, though, architects and designers have increasingly started to consider the other senses, namely sound, touch (including proprioception, kinesthesis, and the vestibular sense), smell, and on rare occasions, even taste in their work. As yet, there has been little recognition of the growing understanding of the multisensory nature of the human mind that has emerged from the field of cognitive neuroscience research. This review therefore provides a summary of the role of the human senses in architectural design practice, both when considered individually and, more importantly, when studied collectively. For it is
only by recognizing the fundamentally multisensory nature of perception that one can really hope to explain a number of surprising crossmodal environmental or atmospheric interactions, such as between lighting colour and thermal comfort and between sound and the perceived safety of public space. At the same time, however, the contemporary focus on synaesthetic design needs to be reframed in terms of the crossmodal correspondences and multisensory integration, at least if the most is to be made of multisensory interactions and synergies that have been uncovered in recent years. Looking to the future, the hope is that architectural design practice will increasingly incorporate our growing understanding of the human senses, and how they influence one another. Such a multisensory approach will hopefully lead to the development of buildings and urban spaces that do a better job of promoting our social, cognitive, and emotional development, rather than hindering it, as has too often been the case previously. (Source: Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind by Charles Spence; in Cognitive Research: Principles and Implications (2020) 5:46 Keywords: Multisensory perception, Architecture, The senses, Crossmodal correspondences)

There, she writes: “So, where are we? What is the current state of the art? Sadly, the current research on multisensory environments appearing in journals such as The Senses & Society does not appear to be impacting artists and architects participating in the Chicago Biennial. Nor are the discoveries in neuroscience offering new information about how the brain relates to the physical environment.” (Malnar, 2017, p. 153).19 At the same time, however, the adverts for at least one new residential development in Barcelona promising residents the benefits of “Sensory living” (The New York Times International Edition in 2019, August 31–Septem ber 1, p. 13), suggests that at least some architects/de signers are starting to realize the benefits of engaging their clients’/customers’ senses. The advert promised that the newly purchased apartment would “provoke their senses”.

Ultimately, it is to be hoped that as the growing awareness of the multisensory nature of human perception continues to spread beyond the academic community, those working in the field of architectural design practice will increasingly start to incorporate the multisensory perspective into their work; and, by so doing, promote the development of buildings and urban spaces that do a better job of promoting our social, cognitive, and emotional well-being.

(Source: Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind by Charles Spence; in Cognitive Research: Principles and Implications (2020) 5:46 Keywords: Multisensory perception, Architecture, The senses, Crossmodal correspondences)

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Conclusions

While it would seem unrealistic that the dominance, or hegemony (Levin, 1993), of the visual will be overturned any time soon, that does not mean that we should not do our best to challenge it. As critic David Michael Levin puts it: “I think it is appropriate to challenge the hegemony of vision– the ocular-centrism of our culture.

And I think we need to examine very critically the character of vision that predominates today in our world. We urgently need a diagnosis of the psychosocial path ology of everyday seeing– and a critical understanding of ourselves as visionary beings.” (Levin, 1993, p. 205).

While not specifically talking about architecture, what we can all do is to adopt a more multisensory perspective and be more sensitive to the way in which the senses interact, be it in architecture or in any other as pect of our everyday experiences.

By designing experiences that congruently engage more of the senses we may be better able to enhance the quality of life while at the same time also creating more immersive, engaging, and memorable multisensory experiences (Bloomer & Moore, 1977; Gallace & Spence, 2014; Garg, 2019; Spence, 2021; Ward, 2014). Stein and Meredith (1993, p. xi), two of the foremost multisensory
neuroscientists of the last quarter century, summarized this idea when they suggesting in the preface to their in fluential volume The merging of the senses that: “The in tegration of inputs from different sensory modalities not only transforms some of their individual characteristics, but does so in ways that can enhance the quality of life.

Integrated sensory inputs produce far richer experiences than would be predicted from their simple coexistence or the linear sum of their individual products.” There is growing interest across many fields of endeavour in design that moves beyond this one dominant, or perhaps even overpowering, sense (Lupton & Lipps, 2018). The aim is increasingly to design for experience rather than merely for appearance. At the same time, however, it is also important to note that progress has been slow in translating the insights from the academic field of multisensory research to the world of architec
tural design practice, as noted by licensed architect Joy Monice Malnar when writing about her disappointment with the entries at the 2015 Chicago Architecture Biennial.

One is addressed to the eyes, the other to the ears.” (Varga,  1996,p.114).Moreover, inhis laterwork(e.g.,Polytopes),  Xenakis pursued the idea of creating a total dissociation be tween visual and aural perception in large abstract sound and light installations (Sterken, 2007, p. 33).

 At several points throughout his book Pérez-Gómez (2016), stresses the importance of “synaesthesia” to architecture, without, unfortunately, ever really quite defining what he means by the term. All one finds are quotes such as the following: “primordial synesthetic perception”,  p. 11;  “perception is primordially  synesthetic”, p. 20; “synaesthesia as the primary modality  of human perception”, p. 71. Pérez-Gómez (2016, p.  149) draws heavily on Merleau-Ponty’s (1962, p. 235) Phenomenology of Perception, quoting lines such as:

 “The senses translate each other without any need of an interpreter, they are mutually comprehensible without the intervention of any idea.” A few pages later he cites Heidegger “truths as correspondence” (Pérez-Gómez,  2016, p. 162). This does, though, sound more like a de scription of the ubiquitous crossmodal correspondences  (Marks, 1978; Spence, 2011) than necessarily fitting with  contemporary definitions of synaesthesia, though the distinction between the two phenomena admittedly remains fiercely contested (e.g., Deroy & Spence, 2013; Sathian & Ramachandran, 2020). Abath (2017) has done a great job of highlighting the confusion linked to Merleau-Ponty’s incoherent use of the term synaesthesia, that has, in turn, gone on to “infect” the writings of other architectural theorists, such as Pérez-Gómez (2016).

Talking of synaesthetic design may then be something  of a misnomer (Spence, 2015), the fundamental idea here is to base one’s design decisions on the sometimes surprising connections between the senses that we all share, such as, for example, between high-pitched sounds and small, light, fast-moving objects (e.g.,  Spence, 2011, 2012a). It is important to highlight the fact  that while these crossmodal correspondences are often confused with synaesthesia, they actually constitute a superficially similar, but fundamentally quite different empirical phenomenon (see Deroy & Spence, 2013).

We have already come across a number of examples of crossmodal correspondences being incorporated,  knowingly or otherwise, in design decisions. Just think about the use of temperature-hue correspondences  (Tsushima et al., 2020; see Spence, 2020a, for a review).

The lightness-elevation mapping (crossmodal correspondence) might also prove useful from a design perspective (Sunaga, Park, & Spence, 2016). And colour taste and sound-taste correspondences have already been incorporated into the design of multisensory experiential spaces (e.g., Spence et al., 2014; see also Adams &  Doucé, 2017; Adams & Vanrie, 2018). Once one accepts  the importance of crossmodal correspondences to environmental design, then this represents an additional level  at which sensory atmospheric cues may be judged as  congruent (e.g., see Spence et al., 2014). One of the important questions that remains for future research,  though, is to determine whether there may be a priority of one kind of cross modal congruency over others when they are manipulated simultaneously.

Does it, I wonder, make sense to suggest that we have such priors concerning the unification of environmental/atmospheric cues? Or might it be, perhaps, that in a context in which we are regularly exposed to incongruent environmental/atmospheric multisensory cues- just think of how music is played from loudspeakers without any associated visual referent- that out priors concerning whether to integrate what we see, hear, smell, and feel will necessarily be related, in any meaningful sense, may well be reduced substantially.

See Badde Navarro, and Landy (2020) and Gau and Noppeney  (2016) on the role of context in the strength of the  common-source priors multisensory binding.

Hence, no matter whether one wants to create a tranquil space (Pheasant, Horoshenkov, Watts, & Barret, 2008)or one that arouses (Mattila & Wirtz, 2001), the senses interact as they do in various other configurations and situations (e.g., Jahncke, Eriksson, & Naula, 2015; Jiang,  Masullo, & Maffei, 2016). There are, in fact, numerous examples where the senses have been shown to interact in  the experience and rating of urban environments (e.g., Ba &Kang,2019; Van Renterghem & Botteldooren, 2016).

Crossmodal correspondences in architectural design practice The field of synaesthetic design has grown rapidly in  recent years (e.g., Haverkamp, 2014; Merter, 2017;  Spence, 2012b). According to architectural historian, Alberto Pérez-Gómez, mentioned earlier, the Philips Pavilion designed by Le Corbusier for the 1958 Brussels world’s fair (Fig. 10) attempted to deliver a multisensory experience, or atmosphere by means of “forced” synaesthesia (Pérez-Gómez, 2016,p.19).18

The interior audiovisual environment was mostly designed by Le Corbusier and Iannis Xenakis (see Sterken, 2007). From those descriptions that have survived there were many  coloured lights and projections and a looping soundscape that was responsive to people’s  ovement through the  space (Lootsma, 1998; Muecke & Zach, 2007). 

18 Though Pérez-Gómez (2016, p. 65) seems to be using a rather unconventional definition of synaesthesia, as a little later in his otherwise excellent work, he defines perceptual synaesthesia as “the integrated sensory modalities”, Pérez-Gómez (2016, p. 65). The  majority of cognitive neuroscientists would, I presume, take this as a  definition of multisensory perception, rather than synaesthesia. Synaesthesia, note, is typically defined as the automatic elicitation  of an idiosyncratic concurrent, not normally experienced, in response  to the presence of an inducing stimulus (Grossenbacher & Lovelace,  2001).

True to his oculocentric approach, mentioned at the start of this piece, Le Corbusier apparently concentrated  on the visual aspects of the “Poème Electronique”, the multimedia show that was projected inside the pavilion.

Meanwhile, his site manager, Iannis Xenakis created “Concret PH”- the soundscape, broadcast over 300 loudspeakers, that accompanied it. It is, though, unclear how much connection there actually was between the auditory and visual components of this multimedia presentation. The notion of parallel, but unconnected, stimulation to eye and ear comes through in Xenakis’ quote that: “we are capable of speaking two languages at the same time.

Ultimately, therefore, while the congruency of atmos pheric/environmental cues can be defined in various ways, and while incongruency is normally negatively valenced (because it is hard to process),17 issues of (in)congruency may often simply not be an issue for the occupants of specific environments. This may either be because the latter simply do not pay attention to the at
mospheric/environmental cues (and hence do not register their incongruency) and/or because they have no reason to believe that the stimuli should be combined in the first place.16

The value of connecting with nature in architectural design practice was stressed by an advertorial for an arctic hideaway that suggests that: “True luxury today is connecting with nature and feeling that your senses work again” as appeared in an article in Blue Wings magazine (December 2019, p. 38). 17

It should, though, be remembered, that sometimes incongruency may be precisely what is wanted. Just take the following quote regarding the crossmodal contrast of thermal heat combined with
visual coolness from Japan as but one example: “In the summer the householder likes to hang a picture of a waterfall, a mountain stream, or similar view in the Tokonama and enjoy in its contemplation a feeling of coolness.” (Tetsuro, 1955, p. 16).

Sensory dominance

One common feature of configurations of multisensory stimuli that are in some sense incongruent is sensory dominance. And very often, under laboratory conditions, this tends to be vision that dominates (e.g., Hutmacher, 2019; Meijer et al., 2019; Posner et al., 1976). Under conditions of multisensory conflict, the normally more reliable sense sometimes completely dominates the
experience of the other senses, as when wine experts can be tricked into thinking that they are drinking red or rosé wine simply by adding some red food dye to white wine (Wang & Spence, 2019). Similarly, people’s assess ment of building materials has also been shown to be dominated by the visual rather than by the feel (Wastiels, Schifferstein, Wouters, & Heylighen, 2013; see also Karana, 2010).

At the same time, however, while we are largely visually dominant, the other senses can also sometimes drive our behaviour. For instance, according to an article that appeared in the Wall Street Journal, many people will apparently refuse to check in to a hotel if there is funny smell in the lobby (Pacelle, 1992). Such admittedly anecdotal observations, were they to be backed up by robust empirical data, would then support the notion that olfactory atmospheric cues can, at least under
certain conditions, also dominate in terms of determining our approach-avoidance behaviour. Mean
while, a growing number of diners have also reported how they will sometimes leave a restaurant if the noise is too loud (see Spence, 2014, for a review; Wagner, 2018), resonating with the quote from Blesser and Salter (2007) that we came across a little earlier.

One other potentially important issue to bear in mind here concerns the “assumption of unity”, or
coupling/binding priors that constitute an important factor modulating the extent of crossmodal binding in the case of multisensory object/event perception, according to the literature on the currently popular Bayesian causal inference (see Chen & Spence, 2017; Rohe, Ehlis,&Noppeney, 2019, for reviews). Coupling priors can be thought of as the internalized long-term statistics of the environment (e.g., Girshick, Landy, & Simoncelli, 2011).

It was stylistic congruency that was manipulated in a couple of experiments, conducted 14At the same time, however, one might consider how marble, one of the most highly prized building materials is in some sense incongruent, given the rich textured patterning of the veined appearance of the surface is typically perfectly smooth to the touch. both online and in the laboratory by Siefkes and Arielli (2015).

These researchers had their participants expli citly concentrate on and evaluate the style of the buildings shown in one of two architectural styles (baroque or modern- a short video showing five baroque build ings; there were also a short video, focusing on five mod ern buildings instead). Their results revealed that the buildings were rated as looking more balanced, more co herent, and to a certain degree, more complete,15 when viewed while listening to music that was congruent (e.g., baroque architecture with baroque music- specifically Georg Philipp Telemann’s, Concerto Grosso in D major, TWV 54:D3 (1716)) rather than incongruent (e.g., bar oque architecture with Philip Glass track from the soundtrack to the movie Koyaanisqatsi).

Before moving on, though, it is worth noting that in this study, as in many of the other studies reported in this section, there is a possibility that the design of the experiments themselves may have resulted in the partici pants concerned paying rather more attention to the at mospheric/environmental cues (and possibly also their congruency) than is normally likely to be the case when, as was mentioned earlier, the architecture itself fades into the background.

Ecological validity may, in other words, have been compromised to a certain degree. One of the other examples of incongruency that one often comes across is linked to the growing interest in biophilic design. As Pallasmaa (1996, p. 41) notes: “A walk through a forest is invigorating and healing due to 15These were the anchors on three of the bipolar semantic differential scales used in this study.

the constant interaction of all sense modalities; Bachelard speaks of ‘the polyphony of the senses’. The eye collaborates with the body and the other senses. One’s sense of reality is strengthened and articulated by this constant interaction. Architecture is essentially an extension of nature into the man-made realm …”16 No wonder, then, that many designers have been exploring the benefits of bringing elements of nature into interior spaces in order to boost the occupants’ mood and aid relaxation (Spence, 2021).

However, one has to ask whether the benefits of adding the sounds of a tropical rainforest to a space such as the shopping area of Glasgow airport, say (Treasure, 2007), really outweigh the cognitive dissonance likely elicited by hearing such sounds in such an incongruous setting? Similarly, a jungle soundscape was incorporated into the children’s section of Harrods London Department store a few years ago (Harrods’ Toy Kingdom- The Sound Agency | Sound Branding” https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVUUG6VvFKQ).

Nature soundscapes have also been introduced into Audi car salesrooms, not to mention BP petrol station toilet facilities (Bashford, 2010;Treasure, 2007). It is worth noting here that given the important role that congruency has been shown to play at the level of multisensory object/ event perception, there is currently a stark paucity of research that has systematically investigated the relevance/ importance of congruency at the level of multisensory ambient, or environmental, cues. As the quotes earlier in this section make clear, it is something to which some architects are undoubtedly sensitive, and on which they already have an opinion. Yet the relevant underpinning research still needs to be conducted.

Once again, participants were asked about how safe it felt, about perceived social presence, and about their willingness to purchase a monthly metro pass. Even under these some what contrived experimental conditions, the presence of an ambient soundscape once again increased perceived safety as well as the participants’ self-reported intention to purchase a season ticket.

It was, though, the sound of people singing Alleluia that proved most effective in terms of enhancing perceived safety amongst those watching the videos.13 It is, however, worth bearing in mind here that many of the key results reported in this study were only borderline significant.

As such, adequately-powered repli cation would be a good idea before too much weight is given to these intriguing findings. Recently, Ba and Kang (2019) documented crossmodal interactions between ambient sound and smell in a laboratory study that was designed to capture the sensory cues that might be encountered in a typical urban environment.

These researchers decided to pair the sounds of birds, conversation, and traffic, with the smells of flowers (lilac, osmanthus), coffee, or bread, at one of three levels (low, medium, or high) in each modality. A complex array of in teractions was observed, with increasing stimulus intensity sometimes enhancing the participants’ comfort ratings, while sometimes leading to a negative response instead. While Ba and Kang’s results defy any simple synopsis, given the complex pattern of results reported, their find ings nevertheless clearly suggest that sound and scent interact in terms of influencing people’s evaluation of urban design.

The colour of the ambient lighting in an indoor envir onment has also been shown to influence the perceived ambient temperature and thermal comfort of an envir onment (e.g., Candas & Dufour, 2005; Tsushima, et al., 2020; Winzen, Albers, & Marggraf-Micheel, 2014). For instance, in one representative study, Winzen and col leagues reported that illuminating a simulated aircraft cabin in warm yellow vs. cool blue-coloured lighting 12This response is very different from the aesthetic disappointment, or even disgust, felt by the man once hypothetically described by the philosopher Immanuel Kant who was very much enjoying listening to a nightingale’s song until realizing that he was listening to a mechanical imitation instead (Kant, 2000). 13

The owner of the car park did not like the sound of this particular sonic intervention, meaning that the researchers were unable to try it out in the field. exerted a significant influence over people’s self-reported thermal comfort. The participants rated the environment as feeling significantly warmer under the warm (as com pared to the cool) lighting colour. One can only really make sense of such findings from a multisensory per spective (see Spence, 2020a, for a review). Taken together, then, the results of the representative selection of studies reported in this section demonstrate that our perception of, and/or response to, multisensory environments are undoubtedly influenced by the com bined influence of environmental/atmospheric cues in different sensory modalities.

So, in contrast to the quote from Mattila and Wirtz (2001) that we came across a few pages ago, there is now a growing body of empirical research out there demonstrating that atmospheric cues presented in different sensory modalities, such as music, scents, and visual stimuli combine to influence how alerting, or pleasant, a particular environment, or stimulus (such as, for example, a work of art), is rated as being (e.g., Banks, Ng, & Jones-Gotman, 2012; Battacharya & Lindsen, 2016).

These researchers examined the effects of an office make-over when a company moved to a new office building. The employees in the new office were given individual control of the temperature, lighting, air quality, and acoustic conditions where they were work ing.

Productivity increased by approximately 15% in the new building. When the individual control of the ambi ent multisensory environment was disabled in the new building, performance fell by around 2% instead. Trying to balance the influence of each of the senses is one of the aims of Finnish architect Juhani Pallasmaa, whose name we have come across at several points already in this text.

As Steven Holl notes in the preface to Pallas maa’s The eyes of the skin: “I have experienced the archi tecture of Juhani Pallasmaa, … The way spaces feel, the sound and smell of these places, has equal weight to the Fig. 8 The Ira Keller Fountain, Portland Oregon. According to Pallasmaa (2011), p. 596) this is “An architecture for all the senses including the kinaesthetic and olfactory senses.”

Once again, the auditory element is provided by the sound of falling water way things look.” (Pallasmaa, 1996, p. 7). One example of multisensory architectural design to which Juhani Pal lasmaa draws attention in several of his writings is the Ira Keller Fountain, Portland Oregon (see Fig. 8). On the multisensory integration of atmospheric/ environmental cues To date, only a relatively small number of studies have directly studied the influence of combined ambient/at mospheric cues on people’s perception, feelings, and/or behaviour. Mattila and Wirtz (2001) conducted one of the first sensory marketing studies to be published in this area.

These researchers manipulated the olfactory environment (no scent, a low-arousal scent (lavender), or a high-arousal scent (grapefruit)) while simultan eously manipulating the presence of music (no music, low-arousal music, or high-arousal music). When the scent and music were congruent in terms of their arousal potential, the customers rated the store envir onment more positively, exhibited higher levels of ap proach and impulse-buying behaviour, and expressed more satisfaction.

There is, though, always a very real danger of sensory overload if the combined multisen sory input becomes too stimulating (see Malhotra, 1984; Simmel, 1995). Meanwhile, in another representative field study, Sayin et al. (2015) investigated the impact of presenting ambi ent soundscapes in an underground car park in Paris. In particular, they assessed the effects of introducing west ern European birdsong or classical instrumental music by Albinoni to the three normally silent stairwells used by members of the general public when exiting the car park. A total of 77 drivers were asked about their feel ings on their way out.

Birdsong was found to work best in terms of enhancing the perceived safety of the situation- in this case by around 6%. This despite the fact that all of those who were quizzed realized that the sounds that they had heard were coming from loud speakers.12 In an accompanying series of laboratory studies, Sayin et al.’s participants were shown a 60-s first-person perspective video that had been taken in the same Paris car park, or else a short video of someone walking through a metro station in Istanbul.

At the outset, when starting to consider the multisensory perception of architecture, it is worth noting that it is rarely something that we attend to. Indeed, as Benjamin (1968, p. 239) once noted: “Architecture has always represented the proto type of a work of art the reception of which is consum mated in a state of distraction.”

To the extent that such a view is correct, one can say that multisensory architec ture is rarely foregrounded in our attention/experience. Juhani Pallasma, meanwhile, has suggested that: “An architectural experience silences all external noise; it focuses attention on one’s very existence.” (Pallasmaa, 1994, p. 31).

Once again, the suggestion here would appear to be that attention is directed away from the building and toward the individual and their place in the world. Given that, on an everyday basis, architecture is typically not foregrounded in our attention/experience, one might legitimately wonder as to whether the multisensory integration of atmospheric/environmental cues takes place, given that they are so often unattended.

According to the laboratory research that has been published on this question to date, the evidence would appear to suggest that while the multisensory integration of unattended cues relating to an object or event certainly can occur, it is by no means guaranteed to do so (see Spence & Frings, 2020, for a review). Perhaps the more fundamental question here, though, is whether we need to attend to ambient/environmental sensory cues for them to influence us. However, the research that has been published to date would appear to suggest that very often environmental cues influence us even when we are not consciously aware of, or thinking about them. 

One particularly striking example of this was reported by researchers who manipulated whether French or German music was played in a supermarket (North, et al., 1997, 1999). The results showed that the majority of the wine purchased was French when French music was played, with this reversing to a majority of German wines being sold when German music was played.

The even more striking aspect of these results was the fact that the majority of those interviewed after coming away from the tills denied that the background music had any influence over the choices they made. A number of studies have also shown that scents that we are unaware of, either because they are presented just below the perceptual threshold or because we have become functionally anosmic to their constant presence, can nevertheless still influence us (Li, Moallem, Paller, & Gottfried, 2007).

Similarly, there is also a suggestion that inaudible infrasound waves (i.e., < 20 Hz) may also affect people without their necessarily being aware of their presence (Weichenberger et al., 2017). Meanwhile, in terms of visual annoyance, it has been reported that flickering LED lights that look no different to the naked eye can nevertheless trigger a significantly greater number of headaches that non-flickering lights (e.g., see Wilkins, 2017; Wilkins, Nimmo-Smith, Slater, & Bedocs, 1989).

Once again, therefore, this suggests that ambient sensory phenomena do not necessarily need to be perceptible in order to affect us, adversely or otherwise. On the benefits of multisensory design:

bringing it all together One demonstration of just how dramatic the benefits of designing for multiple senses can be was reported by Kroner, Stark-Martin, and Willemain (1992) in a tech nical report.

Indeed, those who take up the challenge of designing for the multisensory mind might well take a tip from one commentator, writing in Adver tising Age when talking about product innovation who suggested that: “… the most successful new products ap peal on both rational and emotional levels to as many senses as possible.” (Neff, 2000, p. 22).

Architectural de sign practice, I suggest, would be well-advised to strive for much the same in order to optimally stimulate the multisensory mind. Although not the primary interest of the present re view, it is perhaps also worth noting in passing, how a very similar debate on the importance of designing for the non-visual senses has been playing out amongst those interested specifically in landscape design/architec ture (Lynch & Hack, 1984; Mahvash, 2007; Treib, 1995).

The garden is a multisensory space and as Mark Treib wrote once in an essay entitled “Must landscape mean?”: “Today might be a good time to once more examine the garden in relation to the senses.” Designing for the multisensory mind: architectural design for all the senses The architect must act as a composer that orches trates space into a synchronization for function and beauty through the senses– and how the human body engages space is of prime importance.

As the human body moves, sees, smells, touches, hears and even tastes within a space– the architecture comes to life. The rhythm of an architecture can be felt by occu pants as a result of the architect’s composition– or arrangement of all the sensorial qualities of space. By arranging spatial sensorial features, an architect can lead occupants through the functional and aes thetic rhythms of a created place. Architectural building for all the senses can serve to move occu pants– elevating their experience. (quote from a blogpost by Lehman, 2009).

One of the most exciting developments in cognitive neuroscience in recent decades has been the growing realization that perception/experience is far more multi sensory than anyone had realized (e.g., Bruno & Pavani, 2018; Calvert et al., 2004; Levent & Pascual-Leone, 2014; Stein, 2012). That is, what we hear and smell, and what we think about the experience, is often influenced by what we see, and vice versa (Calvert et al., 2004; Stein, 2012). The senses talk to, and hence influence, one an other all the time, though we often remain unaware of these cross-sensory interactions and influences.

In fact, wherever neuroscientists look in the human brain, activity appears to be modulated by what is going on in more than one sense, leading, increasingly, to talk of the mul tisensory mind (Ghazanfar & Schroeder, 2006; Talsma, 2015). The key question here must therefore be what implications this growing realization of the ubiquity of multisensory cross-talk has for the field of architectural design practice?

The problem is that, as yet, there has been relatively little research directed at the question of how atmospheric/environmental multisensory cues actually inter act. Mattila and Wirtz (2001, pp. 273–274) drew attention to this lacuna some years ago when writing that: “Past studies have examined the effects of individ ual pleasant stimuli such as music, color or scent on consumer behavior, but have failed to examine how these stimuli might interact.”

The suggestion here that “colours in general … often evoke … [a] taste” seemingly linking to the widespread literature on the crossmodal 11. Indeed, one might wonder whether the latter quote refers more to oral stereoagnosis (Jacobs, Serhal, & van Steenberghe, 1998), than specifically to gustation (see also Waterman Jr., 1917, for the suggestion that the tongue can be more revealing than the hand). correspondences that have increasingly been docu mented between colour and basic tastes (see Spence et al., 2015, for a review).

However, rather than describ ing this in terms of architecture that one can taste, one might more fruitfully refer to the growing literature on crossmodal correspondences instead (see below for more on this theme). When, in his book Architecture and the brain, Eber hard (2007, p. 47) talks about what the sense of taste has to do with architecture, he suggests that: “You may not literally taste the materials in a building, but the design of a restaurant can have an impact on your ‘conditioned response’ to the taste of the food.” Environmental multi sensory effects on tasting is undoubtedly an area that has grown markedly in interest in recent years (e.g., see Spence, 2020c, for a review).

It is though worth noting that just as for the olfactory case, some atmospheric ef fects on tasting may be more cognitively-mediated (e.g., associated with the priming of notions of luxury/ex pense, or lack thereof) while others may be more direct, as when changing the colour (see Oberfeld, Hecht, Allendorf, & Wickelmaier, 2009; Spence, Velasco, & Knoeferle, 2014; Torrico et al., 2020) or brightness (Gal et al., 2007; Xu & LaBroo, 2014) of the ambient lightingchanges taste/flavour perception. “An architecture of the seven senses”? So far in this section, we have briefly reviewed the uni sensory contributions of architectural design organized around each of the five main senses (vision audition, touch, smell, and taste).

However, seemingly not content with the traditional five, Pallasmaa (1994) goes further in the title of one of his early articles entitled “An architec ture of the seven senses.” While the text itself is not altogether clear, or explicit, on this point, the skeleton and muscles would appear to be the extra senses that Pallasmaa has in mind here. Indeed, the embodied re sponse of people to architecture is definitely something that has captured the imagination, not to mention in trigued, a number of architectural theorists in recent years (e.g., see Bloomer & Moore, 1977; Pallasmaa, 2011; Pérez-Gómez, 2016). The vestibular sense is also worthy of mention here (see Gulden & Grüsser, 1998; Indovina et al., 2005). Anyone who has tried out one of the VR simulations of walking along the outside ledge of a tall building will have had the feeling of vertigo.

Call it medicinal urbanism.” (Hosey, 2013). Effects on people’s mood resulting from exposure to ambient scent have been reported in some by no means all studies (Glass &Heuberger, 2016; Glass, Lingg, & Heuberger, 2014; Haehner et al., 2017;Weber&Heuberger, 2008). It re mains somewhat uncertain though whether the beneficial effects of aromatherapy scents can be explained by prim ing effects, based on associative learning, as in the case of the clean citrus scents mentioned above (see Herz, 2009), versus via a more direct (i.e., less cognitively mediated) physiological route (cf. Harada, Kashiwadani, Kanmura, & Kuwaki, 2018).

The olfactory scentscapes, and scent maps of cities, that have been discussed by various researchers (see Fig. 6) have also helped to draw people’s attention to the often rich olfactory landscapes offered by many urban spaces (e.g., https://sensorymaps.com/; Bucknell, 2018; Henshaw, 2014; Henshaw et al., 2018; Lipps, 2018; Lupton & Lipps, 2018; Margolies, 2006).

The notion of the healing garden has also seen something of a resurgence in recent years, and the benefits now, as historically, are likely to revolve, at least in part, around the healing, or restorative effect of the smell of flowers and plants (e.g., Pearson, 1991; see also Ottoson & Grahn, 2005). One building that is often mentioned in this regard, namely in terms of its olfactory design   credentials, is the Silicon House by architects, SelgasCano, situated on the outskirts of Madrid (https://www.archi tectmagazine.com/project-gallery/silicon-house-6143).

This house is set in what has been described as “a garden of smells”, which emphasize the olfactory, while also stressing the tactile elements of the design. Hence, while the olfactory aspects of architectural design practice have long been ignored, there are at least signs of a revival of interest in stimulating this sense through both architectural and urban design practice.

Architectural taste The British writer and artist Adrian Stokes once wrote of the “oral invitation of Veronese marble” (Stokes, 1978, p. 316). And while I must admit that I have never felt the urge to lick a brick, Pallasmaa (1996, p. 59) vividly recounts the urge that he once experienced to explore /connect with architecture using his tongue. He writes that: “Many years ago when visiting the DL James Residence in Carmel, California, designed by Charles and Henry Greene, I felt compelled to kneel and touch the delicately shining white marble threshold of the front door with my tongue.

The sensuous materials and skilfully crafted details of Carlo Scarpa’s architecture as well as the sensuous colours of Luis Barragan’s houses frequently evoke oral experiences. Deliciously coloured surfaces of stucco lustro, a highly polished colour or wood surfaces also present themselves to the appreci ation of the tongue.”

Perhaps aware of many readers’ presumed scepticism on the theme of the gustatory contribution to architecture,11 Pallasmaa writes elsewhere that: “The suggestions that the sense of taste would have a role in the appreciation of architecture may sound preposterous. However, polished and coloured stone as well as colours in general, and finely crafted wood details, for instance, often evoke an awareness of mouth and taste. Carlo Scarpa’s architectural details frequently evoke sensation of taste.” (Pallasmaa, 2011, p. 595).

Brooklyn Nets, as a case in point. On its opening in 2013, various commentators in the press drew attention to the distinctive, if not immediately identifiable, scent that appeared to pervade the space, and which appeared to have been added deliberately- almost as if it were intended to be a signature scent for the space (e.g., Al brecht, 2013; Doll, 2013; Martinez, 2013).

That said, the idea of fragrancing public spaces dates back at least as far as 1913. In that year, at the opening of the Marmor haus cinema in Berlin, the fragrance of Marguerite Carré, a perfume by Bourjois, Paris, was deliberately (and innovatively, at least for the time) wafted through the auditorium (Berg-Ganschow & Jacobsen, 1987). Meanwhile, in what may well be a sign of things to come, synaesthetic perfumer Dawn Goldsworthy and her scent design company 12:29 recently made the press after apparently creating a bespoke scent for a new US$40 million apartment in Miami (Schroeder, 2018). What further opportunities might there be to design distinctive “signature” scents for spaces/buildings, one might ask (Henshaw et al., 2018; Jones, 2006; Trivedi, 2006)?

Evidence that the olfactory element of design can be used to affect behaviour change positively includes, for example, the observation that people tend to engage in more cleaning behaviours when there is a hint of citrus in the air (De Lange, Debets, Ruitenburg, & Holland, 2012; Holland, Hendriks, & Aarts, 2005). In the future, it may not be too much of a stretch to imagine public spaces filled with aromatic flowers and blossoming trees, introduced with the aim of helping to discourage people from littering, and who knows, perhaps even reducing vandalism (see also Steinwald, Harding, & Piacentini, 2014).

In terms of the cognitive mechanism underlying such crossmodal effects of scent on behaviour, the suggestion, at least in the citrus cleaning example just mentioned, is that smelling an ambient scent that we associate with clean and cleaning then activates, or primes, the associated concepts (Smeets & Dijksterhuis, 2014). Having been primed, the suggestion is thus that this makes it that bit more likely that we will engage in behaviours that are congruent or consistent with the primed concept (though see Doyen, Klein, Pichon, & Cleeremans, 2012).

Elsewhere, researchers have already demonstrated the beneficial effects that lavender, and other scents normally associated with aromatherapy, have on those who are ex posed to them. So, for instance, the latter tend to show re duced stress, better sleep, and even enhanced recovery from illness (see Herz, 2009; Spence, 2003, for reviews; though see also Haehner, Maass, Croy, & Hummel, 2017). According to one commentator writing in The New York Times: “While these findings have obvious implications for health care, the opportunities for architecture and urban planning are particularly intriguing. Designers are trained to focus mostly on the visual, but the science of design could significantly expand designers’ sensory palette.

According to Donnell Jr. et al. (1989), these complaints of odours may well have heightened the perception of poor air quality by some employees in the building.

This, in turn, may have led to an epidemic anxiety state resulting in the SBS outbreak (Faust & Brilliant, 1981). In fact, workers suffering from SBS were more than twice as likely to have noticed a particular odour in the work area before the onset of their symptoms than those who were working in the same building who were unaffected by the outbreak.9

At the same time, however, it should also be borne in mind that our tendency to focus on what we see and hear means that we often exhibit olfactory anosmia to ambient scents (Forster & Spence, 2018). To give a sense of the potential scale of the problem, Woods (1989) estimated that 30–70 million people in the USA alone are exposed to offices that manifest SBS. As such, anything (and everything) that can be done to reduce the symptoms associated with this reaction to the indoor environment (Finnegan, Pickering, & Burge, 1984) will likely have a beneficial effect on the health and well-being of many people.

At the same time, however, it is perhaps also worth bearing in mind here that the incidence of SBS would seem to have declined in recent years (though see also Joshi, 2008; Magnavita, 2015; Redlich, Sparer, & Cullen, 1997), perhaps suggesting that building design/ventilation has improved as a result of the earlier outbreaks.10

That said, it is perhaps also worth noting that there continues to be some uncertainty as to whether the very real symptoms of SBS should be attributed to airborne pollutants, or may instead be better understood as a psychosomatic response to a particular environmental atmosphere (see Fletcher, 2005 and Love, 2018). What is more, there has been a move by some researchers to talk in terms of the less pejorative-sounding building-related symptoms (BRS) in stead (Niemelä, Seppänen, Korhonen, & Reijula, 2006).

One more psychological factor that may be relevant here concerns the feeling of a lack of control over one’s multisensory environment that many of those working in ventilated buildings where the windows cannot be opened manually have may indeed play a role in the elicitation of SBS. Scent and the city: designing fragrant spaces There are, however, signs that the situation is slowly starting to change with regards to the emphasis placed on olfaction in both architectural and urban design prac tice.

For instance, a number of commentators have noted, not to mention sometimes been puzzled by, the distinctive, yet unexplained, pleasant- and hence, one assumes, deliberately introduced- fragrances that some new constructions appear to have. Just take the case of the Barclays Center arena in Brooklyn, NY, home of the Brooklyn Nets, as a case in point.

9. It is also worth noting how suggestible people can be concerning the presence of an odour, as first demonstrated by Slosson’s(1899) classic classroom demonstration of students in the lecture theatre detecting a fictitious odour in the air.

10. It has also been suggested that the energy crisis in the 1970s may also have been partly to blame, as that tended to result in lower ventilation standards.

Some years later, Jim Drobnik introduced the latter phrase in order to highlight the fact that too many spaces are seemingly deliberately designed to have no smell, nor to leave any lasting olfactory trace, either.8

6. Writer Tanizaki (2001), in his essay on aesthetics In Praise of Shadows, also draws attention to the close interplay that exists, or better said, once existed, between architectural design and food/ plateware design in traditional Japanese culture.

7. Intriguingly, Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1991, p. 416) describes the white cube as an apparatus for “single-sense epiphanies”.

8. This despite Baudelaire’s line that the smell of a room is “the soul of the apartment” (quoted in Corbin, 1986, p. 169)

And thinking back to my memories of visiting my own grandfather, long since deceased, on his fairground wagon in Bradford, it was undoubtedly the intense smell of “derv” (English slang for diesel-engine road vehicle), the liquid diesel oil that was used for trucks at the time, that I can still remember better than anything else. The residents of buildings tend to adapt to the positive and neutral smells in the buildings we inhabit.

This is evidenced by the fact that we are typically only aware of the smell of our own home, what some call building odour, or BO for short, when we return after a long trip away (Dalton & Wysocki, 1996; McCooey, 2008). Sick building syndrome and the problem of poor olfactory design Improving indoor air quality might well also provide an effective means of helping to alleviate some of the symptoms of sick building syndrome (SBS) that were mentioned earlier (Guieysse et al., 2008).

It is certainly striking how many large outbreaks of this still mysterious condition reported in the 1980s were linked to the presence of an unfamiliar smell in closed office buildings with little natural ventilation (Wargocki, Wyon, Baik, Clausen, & Fanger, 1999; Wargocki, Wyon, Sundell, Clausen, & Fanger, 2000). For instance, in June 1986, more that 12% of the workforce of 2500 people working at the Harry S. Truman State Office Building in Missouri came down with the symptoms of SBS over a 3-day period (Donnell Jr. et al., 1989).

The symptoms presented by some of the workers (including dizziness and difficulty in breathing) were so severe they had to be rushed to the local hospital for emergency treatment. And while a thorough examination of the building subsequently failed to reveal the presence of any particular toxic airborne pollutants that might have been responsible for the outbreak, in the majority of cases, it turned out that the symptoms of SBS were preceded by the perception of unusual odours and inadequate airflow in the building.

There, she points to examples such as the hearth, the sauna, and Roman and Japanese baths as archetypes of thermal delight about which rituals have developed, the shared experience reinforcing social bonds of affection and ceremony (see also Lupton, 2002; Papale et al., 2016). At this point, one might also want to mention the much-admired Therme Vals Spa by Peter Zumthor, in Switzerland with their use of different temperatures of both water and touchable surfaces (Ryan, 1997, though see also Mairs, 2017).

The tactile element is, in other words, fundamental to the total (multisensory) experi ence of architectural design. This is true no matter whether the materiality is touched directly or not (i.e., merely seen, inferred, or imagined). So, for example, here one might only think about how looking at a cheap fake marble or wood veneer can make one feel, to realize that touch in often not required to assess material qual ity, or the lack thereof (see also Karana, 2010).

An architecture of the chemical senses Talking of an architecture of scent, or of taste (these two of the so-called chemical senses), might seem like a step too far. That said, one does come across titles such as Eating Architecture (Horwitz & Singley, 2004) and An Architecture of Smell (McCarthy, 1996; see also Barbara & Perliss, 2006).6 Unfortunately, however, all too often, consideration of the olfactory in architectural design practice has focused on the elimination of negative odours. When thinking about the mundane experience of odours in buildings, what immediately comes to mind includes the smell of wood (i.e., building materials), dust, mould, cleaning products, and flowers.

As Eberhard (2007, p. 47) puts it: “We all have our favorite smells in a building, as well as ones that are considered noxious. A cedar closet in the bedroom is an easy example of a good smell. The terrible smell of a house that was rav aged by fire or floods is seared in the memory of those who have endured one of these disasters.”

This is perhaps no coincidence, given that it tends to be the bad odours, rather than the neutral or positive ones, that have generally proved most effective in immersing us in an experience (Baus & Bouchard, 2017; see also Aggle ton & Waskett, 1999).

Research by Schifferstein, Talke, and Oudshoorn (2011) investigated whether the nightlife experience could be enhanced by the use of pleasant fra grance to mask the stale odour after the indoor smoking ban was introduced a few years ago.

Once again, notice how the focus here is on the elimination of the negative stale odours rather than necessarily the introduction of the positive (the latter merely being introduced in order to mask the former). Jim Drohnik captures the idea of olfactory absence when talking about not just the “white cube” mentality but the “anosmic cube” (Drobnick, 2005). The former phrase was famously coined by O’Doherty (1999, 2009) in order to describe the then-popular practice of display ing art in gallery spaces that were devoid of colour or any other form of visual distraction. 7

Designing for “the eyes of the skin”

The tactile element of architecture is often ignored. In fact, very often, the first point of physical contact with a building typically occurs when we enter or leave. Or, as Pallasmaa (1994, p. 33) once evocatively put it: “The door handle is the handshake of the building”.

However, once inside a building, it is worth remembering that we will also typically make contact with flooring (Tonetto, Klanovicz, & Spence, 2014), hand rails (Spence, 2020d), elevator buttons, furniture, and the like (though this is, of course, likely to change somewhat in the era of pan demia). As Richard Sennett, author of Flesh and Stone, laments in his critical take on the sensory order of mod ernity: “sensory deprivation which seems to curse most modern buildings; the dullness, the monotony, and the tactile sterility which afflicts the urban environment” (Sennett, 1994, p. 15).

The absence of tactile interest is also something that Witold Rybczynski author of The Look of Architecture acknowledges when writing that: “Although architecture is often defined in terms of abstractions such as space, light and volume, build ings are above all physical artifacts. The experience of architecture is palpable: the grain of wood, the veined surface of marble, the cold precision of steel, the tex tured pattern of brick.” (Rybczynski, 2001, p. 89).

No tice here how Rybczynski mentions both texture and temperature, two of the key attributes of tactile sensa tion(see also Henderson, 1939). Temperature change, and change in the flooring material (tatami matting or cedarwood), is also something that the Tom mu seum for the blind in Tokyo also plays with deliber ately (Classen, 1998, p. 150; Vorreiter, 1989;Wagner, 1989). There is also a braille poen on the knob of the exit door too.

The careful use of material can evoke tactility as the viewer (or occupant) imagines or mentally simulates what it would feel like to reach out and touch or caress an intriguing surface (Sigsworth, 2019; see also Lupton, 2002). Juhani Pallasmaa, who has perhaps written more than anyone else on the theme of the tactile, or haptic in architecture, writes that “Natural materials- stone, brick and wood- allow the gaze to penetrate their sur faces and they enable us to become convinced of the veracity of matter …

But the materials of today- sheets of glass, enamelled metal and synthetic materials present their unyielding surfaces to the eye without conveying anything of their material essence or age.” (Pallasmaa, 1994,p.29). Lisa Heschong, architect, and partner of architectural research firm Heschong Mahone Group, has written ex tensively on the theme of thermal (as opposed to tex tural) aspects of architectural design in her book Thermal Delight in Architecture (Heschong, 1979).

Intriguingly, subjective restoration was significantly higher amongst those who thought that they were listening to the nature sounds than in those who thought that they were listening to industrial noise instead. As might have been expected, the results of the control group, fell somewhere in between.

Paley Park in New York has often been put forward as a particularly elegant solution to the problem of negating unwanted traffic noise in the context of urban design (e.g., Carroll, 1967; Prochnik, 2009). In 1967, the empty lot resulting from the demolition of the Stork Club on 53rd Street was transformed into a small public park (a so called pocket park). The space was developed by Zion and Breen.

In this case, the acoustic space, think only of the sounds, or better said noise, of the city, is effectively masked by the presence of a waterfall at the far end of the lot (see Fig. 5). What is more, the free-standing chairs allow the visitor to move closer to the waterfall should they feel the need to drown out a little more of the urban noise.

The greenery growing thickly along the side walls also likely helps to absorb the noise of the city. Music plays an important role in our experience of the built environment- think here only of the Muzak of de cades gone by (Lanza, 2004). This is as true of the guest’s hotel experience (e.g., when entering the lobby) as it is elsewhere (e.g., in a shopping centre or bar, say).5

The sound that greets customers in the lobby is apparently very important to Ian Schrager, the Brooklyn-born entrepreneur who created fabled nightclub Studio 54 in New York. In recent years, he has been working with Marriott to launch The EDITION hotels in a number of major cities, including London and New York. Music plays a key role in the Schrager experience.

As the entrepreneur puts it: “The sound of a hotel lobby is often dictated by monotonous, vapid lounge muzak– a zombie-like drone of new jazz and polite house, with the sole purpose of whiling away the waiting time between check-in and check-out.” As might have been expected, the music in the lobbies of The EDITION hotels is carefully curated (Eriksen, 2014, p. 27).

However, the thumping noise of the music from the nightclub/bar that is often also an integral part of the experience offered by these hip venues means that meticulous architectural design is also required in order to limit the spread of unwanted noise through the rest of the building (e.g., so as not to disturb the sleep of those who may be resting in the rooms upstairs). Note here that there are also some increasingly sophisticated solutions- including sound-absorbing panels, as well as active noise cancellation systems- to dampen unwanted sound in open spaces such as restaurants and offices (Clynes, 2012).

5Here, one might also consider the Abercrombie & Fitch clothing brand. For a number of years, the chain also managed to craft a distinctive dance sound to match the dark nightclub-like appearance of their interiors.

Meanwhile, Howes (2014) writes of the sensory monotony of the bungalow filled suburbs and of the corporeal experience of sky scrapers as their presence looms up before those on the sidewalk below. At the same time, however, there is also a sense in which it is the gaze of the inhabitants of those tall buildings who are offered the view that is prioritized over the other senses.

However, very often the approach as, in fact, evidenced by Malnar and Vodvarka (2004) has been to work one sense at a time. Until recently, that is, one finds exactly the same kind of sense-by-sense (or unisensory) approach in the worlds of interior design (Bailly Dunne & Sears, 1998), advertising (Lucas & Britt, 1950), marketing (Hultén, Broweus, & Dijk, 2009; Krishna, 2013; Lind strom, 2005), and atmospherics (see Bille & Sørensen, 2018, on architectural atmospherics; and Kotler, 1974, on the theme of store atmospherics).

Recently, there has been a growing recognition of the importance of the non-visual senses to various fields of design (Haverkamp, 2014; Lupton & Lipps, 2018; Malnar & Vodvarka, 2004). As yet, however, there has not been sufficient recognition of the extent to which the senses interact. As Wil liams (1980, p. 5) noted some 40years ago: “Aside from meeting common standards of performance, architects do little creatively with acoustical, thermal, olfactory, and tactile sensory responses.” As we will see later, it is not clear that much has changed since.

The look of architecture There are a number of ways in which visual perception science can be linked to architectural design practice. For instance, think only of the tricks played on the eyes by the trapezoidal balconies on the famous The Future apartment building in Manhattan (see Fig. 2). They
appear to slant downward when viewed from one side while appearing to slope upward instead, if viewed from the other. The causes of such a visual illusion can, at the very least, be meaningfully explained in terms of visual perception research (Bruno & Pavani, 2018).


Cognitive neuroscientists have recently demonstrated that we have an innate preference for visual curvature, be it in internal space (Vartanian et al., 2013), or for the fur niture that is found within that space (Dazkir & Read, 2012; see also Lee, 2018; Thömmes & Hübner, 2018). We typically rate curvilinear forms as being more approach able than rectilinear ones (see Fig. 3). Angular forms, espe cially when pointing downward/toward us, may well be perceived as threatening, and hence are somewhat more likely to trigger an avoidance response (Salgado-Montejo, Salgado, Alvarado, & Spence, 2017).

As Ingrid Lee, former design director at IDEO New York put it in her book, Joyful: The surprising power of ordinary things to create extra ordinary happiness: “Angular objects, even if they’re not directly in your path as you move through your home, have an unconscious effect on your emotions. They may look chic and sophisticated, but they inhibit our playful impulses. Round shapes do just the opposite. A circular or elliptical coffee table changes a living room from a space for sedate, restrained interaction to a lively center for conversation and impromptu games” (Lee, 2018,p.142).

Given that those of us living in urban environments, which as we have seen is now the majority of us, spend more than 95% of our lives indoors (Ott & Roberts, 1998), architects would therefore seem to bear at least some responsibility for ensuring that the multisensory attributes of the built environment work together to de liver an experience that positively stimulates the senses, and, by so doing, facilitates our well-being, rather than hinders it (see also Pérez-Gómez, 2016, on this theme).

Crucially, however, a growing body of cognitive neuro science research now demonstrates that while we are often unaware of, or at least pay little conscious attention to the subtle sensory cues that may be conveyed by a space (e.g., Forster & Spence, 2018), that certainly does not mean that they do not affect us.

In fact, the sensory qualities or attributes of the environment have long been known to affect our health and well-being in environments as diverse as the hospital and the home, and from the office to the gym (e.g., Spence, 2002, 2003, 2021; Spence & Keller, 2019). What is more, according to the research that has been published to date, environmental multisensory stimulation can potentially affect us at the social, emotional, and cognitive levels.

It can be argued, therefore, that we all need to pay rather more attention to our senses and the way in which they are being stimulated than we do at present (see also Pérez-Gómez, 2016, on this theme). You can call it a mindful approach to the senses (Kabat-Zinn, 2005),2 though my preferred terminology, coined in an industry report published almost 20years ago, is “sensism” (see Spence, 2002).

Sensism provides a key to greater well being by considering the senses holistically, as well as how they interact, and incorporating that understanding into our everyday lives. The approach also builds on the growing evidence of the nature effect (Williams, 2017) and the fact that we appear to benefit from, not to men tion actually desire, the kinds of environments in which our species evolved.

As support for the latter claim, consider only how it has recently emerged that most people set their central heating to a fairly uniform 17–23°C, meaning that the average indoor temperature and humidity most closely matches the mild outdoor conditions of west central Kenya or the Ethiopian highlands (i.e., the place where human life is first thought to have evolved), better than anywhere else (Just, Nichols, & Dunn, 2019; Whipple, 2019).

Architectural design for each of the senses It is certainly not the case that architects have uniformly ignored the non-visual senses (e.g., see Howes, 2005, 2014; McLuhan, 1961; Pallasmaa, 1994, 2011; Ragaven dira, 2017).

For instance, in their 2004 book on Sensory design, Malnar and Vodvarka talk about challenging
visual dominance in architectural design practice by giving a more equal weighting to all of the senses (Malnar & Vodvarka, 2004; see also Mau, 2019). 

2 Or, as Tuan (1977, p. 18) once put it: “an object or place achieves concrete reality when our experience of it is total, that is, through all the senses as well as with the active and reflective mind” a more equal weighting to all of the senses (Malnar & Vodvarka, 2004; see also Mau, 2019).

Indeed, many years ago, the famous modernist Swiss architect Le Corbusier (1948) made the intriguing suggestion that architectural forms “work physiologically upon our senses.” Inspired by early work with the semantic differential technique, researchers would often attempt to assess the approach avoidance, active-passive, and dominant-submissive qualities of a building or urban space. This approach was based on the pleasure, arousal, and dominance (PAD) model that has long been dominant in the field. However, it is important to stress that in much of their research, the environmental psychologists took a separ ate sense-by-sense approach (e.g., Zardini, 2005).

The majority of researchers have tended to focus their empirical investigations on studying the impact of changing the stimulation presented to just one sense at a time. More often than not, in fact, they would focus on a single sensory attribute, such as, for example, investi gating the consequences of changing the colour (hue) of the lighting or walls (e.g., Bellizzi, et al., 1983; Bellizzi & Hite, 1992; Costa, Frumento, Nese, & Predieri, 2018; Crowley, 1993), or else just modulating the brightness of the ambient lighting (e.g., Gal, Wheeler, & Shiv, 2007; Xu & LaBroo, 2014).

Such a unisensory (and, in some cases, unidimensional) approach undoubtedly makes sense inasmuch as it may help to simplify the problem of studying how design affects us (Malnar & Vodvarka, 2004). What is more, such an approach is also entirely in tune with the modular approach to mind that was so popular in the fields of psychology and cognitive neuro science in the closing decades of the twentieth century (e.g., Barlow & Mollon, 1982; Fodor, 1983). At the same time, however, it can be argued that this sense-by-sense approach neglects the fundamentally multisensory na ture of mind, and the many interactions that have been shown to take place between the senses.

The visually dominant approach to research in the field of environmental psychology also means that far less attention has been given over to studying the impact of the auditory (e.g., Blesser & Salter, 2007; Kang et al., 2016; Schafer, 1977; Southworth, 1969; Thompson, 1999), tactile, somatosensory or embodied (e.g., Heschong, 1979; Pallasmaa, 1996; Pérez-Gómez, 2016), or even the olfactory qualities of the built environment (e.g., Bucknell, 2018; Drobnick, 2002, 2005; Henshaw, McLean, Medway, Perkins, & Warnaby, 2018) than on the impact of the visual. Furthermore, until very re cently, little consideration has been given by the envir onmental psychologists to the question of how the senses interact, one with another, in terms of their influ ence on an individual.

This neglect is particularly striking given that the natural environment, the built environment, and the atmosphere of a space are nothing if not multisensory (e.g., Bille & Sørensen, 2018). In fact, it is no exaggeration to say that our response to the environments, in which we find ourselves, be they built or natural, is always going to be the result of the combined influence of all the senses that are being stimulated, no matter whether we are aware of their influence or not (this is a point to which we will return later).

However, while such a suggestion might well be appropriate in Mexico, where Barragán’s work is to be found, many of us (especially those living in northern latitudes in the dark winter months) need as much natural light as we can obtain to maintain our psychological well-being. That said, Barragán is not alone in his appreciation of darkness and shadow. Some years ago, Japanese writer Junichirō Tanizaki also praised the aesthetic appeal of shadow and dark ness inthenativearchitectureof hishomecountry in his extended essay on aesthetics, In praise of shadows (Tanizaki, 2001).

One of the problems with the extensive use of win dows in northern climates is related to poor heat reten tion, an issue that is becoming all the more prominent in the era of sustainable design and global warming. One solution to this particular problem that has been put for ward by a number of technology-minded researchers is simply to replace windows by the use of large screens that relay a view of nature for those who, for whatever reason, have to work in windowless offices (Kahn Jr. et al., 2008).

However, the limited research that has been conducted on this topic to date suggests that the benefi cial effects of being seated near to the window in an of fice building cannot easily be captured by seating workers next to such video-screens instead. Similarly, the failure to fully consider the auditory as pects of architectural design may help to explain some part of the global health crisis associated with noise pol lution interfering with our sleep, health, and well-being (Owen, 2019).

The neglect of architecture’s fundamental role in helping to maintain our well-being is a central theme in Pérez-Gómez’s (2016) influential book Attunement: Architectural meaning after the crisis of modern science. Pérez-Gómez is the director of the History and Theory of Architecture Program at McGill University in Canada. Along similar lines, geographer J. Douglas Por teous had already noted some years earlier that: “Not withstanding the holistic nature of environmental experience, few researchers have attempted to interpret it in a very holistic [or multisensory] manner.” (Porteous, 1990, p. 201).

Finally, here, it is perhaps also worth noting that there are even some researchers who have wanted to make a connection between the global obesity crisis and the obesogenic environments that so many of us inhabit (Lieberman, 2006). The poor diet of multisensory stimulation that we experience living a primary in door life has also been linked to the growing sleep crisis apparently facing so many people in society today (Walker, 2018).

Designing for the modular mind Researchers working in the field of environmental psychology have long stressed the impact that the sensory features of the built environment have on us (e.g., Mehrabian & Russell, 1974, for an influential early volume detailing this approach).

At the same time, however, this review also highlights how the contemporary focus on synaesthetic design in architecture (see Pérez-Gómez, 2016) needs to be reframed in terms of the crossmodal correspondences (see Spence, 2011, for a review), at least if the most is to be made of multisensory interactions and synergies that affect us all. Later, I want to highlight how accounts of multisensory interactions in architecture in terms of synaesthesia tend to confuse matters, rather than to clarify them.

Accounting for our growing understanding of crossmodal interactions (specifically the emerging field of crossmodal correspondences research) and multisen sory integration will help to explain how it is that our senses conjointly contribute to delivering our multisen sory (and not just visual) experience of space. One other important issue that will be discussed later is the role played by our awareness of the multisensory atmosphere of the indoor environments in which we spend so much of our time.

Looking to the future, the hope is that architectural design practice will increasingly incorporate our growing understanding of the human senses, and how they influence one another. Such a multisensory approach will hopefully lead to the development of buildings and urban spaces that do a better job of promoting our so cial, cognitive, and emotional development, rather than hindering it, as has too often been the case previously.

Before going any further, though, it is worth highlighting a number of the negative outcomes for our well-being that have been linked to the sensory aspects of the environments in which we spend so much of our time.

Negative health consequences of neglecting multisensory stimulation

It has been suggested that the rise in sick building syndrome (SBS) in recent decades (Love, 2018) can be put down to neglect of the olfactory aspect of the interior environments where city dwellers have been estimated to spend 95% of their lives (e.g., Ott & Roberts, 1998; Velux YouGov Report, 2018; Wargocki, 2001).

Indeed, as of 2010, more people around the globe lived in cities than lived in rural areas (see UN-Habitat, 2010 and United Nations Department of Economic and Social Af fairs, 2018).

One might also be tempted to ask what responsibility, if any, architects bear for the high incidence of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) that has been documented in northern latitudes (Cox, 2017; Heerwagen, 1990; Rosenthal, 2019; Rosenthal et al., 1984).

To give a sense of the problem of “light hunger” (as Heerwagen, 1990, refers to it), Terman (1989) claimed that as many as 2 million people in Manhattan alone experience seasonal affective and behavioural changes severe enough to require some form of additional light stimulation during the winter months.

According to Pallasmaa (1994, p. 34), Luis Barragán, the self-taught Mexican architect famed for his geometric use of bright colour (Gregory, 2016) felt that most contemporary houses would be more pleasant with only half their window surface.

编註：联觉（英语：Synesthesia），又译为共感觉、通感或联感，是一种感觉现象，指其中一种感觉或认知途径的刺激，导致第二种感觉或认知途径的非自愿经历。 联觉感知的意识因人而异。 在一种普遍的联觉形式中，被称为“字位→颜色联觉”或“颜色-字素联觉”，当中字母及数字被认为具固有颜色。

Figure 1 schematically illustrates the hierarchy of attentional capture by each of the senses as envisioned by Morton Heilig, the inventor of the Sensorama, the world’s first multisensory virtual reality apparatus (Hei lig, 1962), when writing about the multisensory future of cinema in an article first published in 1955 (see Heilig, 1992).

Nevertheless, while commentators from many different disciplines would seem to agree on vision’s current pre-eminence, one cannot help but wonder what has been lost as a result of the visual dominance that one sees wherever one looks in the world of architecture (“see” and “look” being especially apposite terms here). While the hegemony of the visual (see Levin, 1993) is a phenomenon that appears across most aspects of our daily lives, the very ubiquity of this phenomenon cer tainly does not mean that the dominance of the visual should not be questioned (e.g., Dunn, 2017; Hutmacher, 2019).

For, as Finnish architect and theoretician Pallas maa (2011, p. 595) notes: “Spaces, places, and buildings are undoubtedly encountered as multisensory lived experiences. Instead of registering architecture merely as visual images, we scan our settings by the ears, skin, nose, and tongue.”

Elsewhere, he writes that: “Architecture is the art of reconciliation between ourselves and the world, and this mediation takes place through the senses” (Pallasmaa, 1996, p. 50; see also Böhme, 2013). We will return later to question the visual dominance

account, highlighting how our experience of space, as of anything else, is much more multisensory than most people realize. Review outline While architectural practice has traditionally been domi nated by the eye/sight, a growing number of architects and designers have, in recent decades, started to con sider the role played by the other senses, namely sound, touch (including proprioception, kinesthesis, and the vestibular sense), smell, and, on rare occasions, even taste.

It is, then, clearly important that we move beyond the merely visual (not to mention modular) focus in architecture that has been identified in the writings of Juhani Pallasmaa and others, to consider the contribu tion that is made by each of the other senses (e.g., Eber hard, 2007; Malnar & Vodvarka, 2004). Reviewing this literature constitutes the subject matter of the next sec tion.

However, beyond that, it is also crucial to consider the ways in which the senses interact too. As will be stressed later, to date there has been relatively little recognition of the growing understanding of the multisen sory nature of the human mind that has emerged from the field of cognitive neuroscience research in recent de cades (e.g., Calvert, Spence, & Stein, 2004; Stein, 2012).

The principal aim of this review is therefore to provide a summary of the role of the human senses in architec tural design practice, both when considered individually and, more importantly, when the senses are studied col lectively.

For it is only by recognizing the fundamentally multisensory nature of perception that one can really hope to explain a number of surprising crossmodal environ mental or atmospheric interactions, such as between light ing colour and thermal comfort (Spence, 2020a) or between sound and the perceived safety of public spaces (Sayin, Krishna, Ardelet, Decré, & Goudey, 2015), that have been reported in recent years.

Looking to the future, the hope is that architectural design practice will increasingly incorporate our growing  understanding of the human senses, and how they influence one another. Such a multisensory approach will hopefully lead to the development of buildings and urban spaces that do a better job of promoting our social, cognitive, and  emotional development, rather than hindering it, as has too often been the case previously.

Significance statement

Architecture exerts a profound influence over our well being, given that the majority of the world’s population liv ing in urban areas spend something like 95% of their time indoors. However, the majority of architecture is designed for the eye of the beholder, and tends to neglect the non visual senses of hearing, smell, touch, and even taste.

This neglect may be partially to blame for a number of problems faced by many in society today including everything from sick-building syndrome (SBS) to seasonal affective disorder (SAD), not to mention the growing problem of noise pollution.

However, in order to design buildings and environ ments that promote our health and well-being, it is necessary not only to consider the impact of the various senses on a building’s inhabitants, but also to be aware of the way in which sensory atmospheric/environmental cues interact. Multisensory perception research provides relevant insights concerning the rules governing sensory integration in the perception of objects and events.

This review extends that approach to the understanding of how multisensory environments and atmospheres affect us, in part depending on how we cognitively interpret, and/or attribute, their sources. It is argued that the confusing notion of synaes thetic design should be replaced by an approach to multi sensory congruency that is based on the emerging literature on crossmodal correspondences instead.

Ultimately, the hope is that such a multisensory approach, in transitioning from the laboratory to the real world application domain of architectural design practice, will lead on to the development of buildings and urban spaces that do a better job of promoting our social, cognitive, and emotional development, rather than hindering it, as has too often been the case previously.


(Source: Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind by  Charles Spence;  in Cognitive Research: Principles and Implications (2020) 5:46 https://doi.org/10.1186/s41235-020-00243-4 Keywords: Multisensory perception, Architecture, The senses, Crossmodal correspondences；Correspondence: charles.spence@psy.ox.ac.uk Department of Experimental Psychology, Crossmodal Research Laboratory, University of Oxford, Anna Watts Building, Oxford OX2 6GG, UK )

Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind

Abstract

Traditionally, architectural practice has been dominated by the eye/sight. In recent decades, though, architects and designers have increasingly started to consider the other senses, namely sound, touch (including proprioception,  kinesthesis, and the vestibular sense), smell, and on rare occasions, even taste in their work.

As yet, there has been little  recognition of the growing understanding of the multisensory nature of the human mind that has emerged from the field of cognitive neuroscience research. This review therefore provides a summary of the role of the human senses in architectural design practice, both when considered individually and, more importantly, when studied collectively.

For it is only by recognizing the fundamentally multisensory nature of perception that one can really hope to explain a number of surprising crossmodal environmental or atmospheric interactions, such as between lighting colour and thermal  comfort and between sound and the perceived safety of public space.

At the same time, however, the contemporary focus on synaesthetic design needs to be reframed in terms of the crossmodal correspondences and multisensory  integration, at least if the most is to be made of multisensory interactions and synergies that have been uncovered in  recent years. （Con't Below）


(Source: Senses of place: architectural design for the multisensory mind by Charles Spence; in Cognitive Research: Principles and Implications (2020) 5:46 Keywords: Multisensory perception, Architecture, The senses, Crossmodal correspondences)

文本轉譯知覺：策劃空間的多向度異變

策劃視野的引導、路徑的假設、空間的分隔等皆基於形式組織的理性規劃與感性體悟，而游牧理論下對展覽空間的邊界設定在當代極高效信息傳播的語境下不斷受到碰撞，物質與觀念雙重維度上的界限被打破。

（一）邊界重置：桎梏流變的感官空間

1.視覺延展

策劃空間的呈現一貫致力於側重視覺作用於體驗的表達，而負責紐約現代藝術博物館殘疾人長期項目的卡裡·麥吉質疑了視覺中心主義，博物館自20世紀70年代開始邀請盲人參觀展覽，後拓展至可直接觸摸畫作，展覽對視障的關懷並不同於傳統美術館以展覽預錄制聲音描述的形式呈現展覽，而是以藝術家向導描述現場聲音為對應人群提供強連接、逼近現實的體驗。展覽中藝術作品的概念框架在更探索性、試驗性的多感官體驗間來回游走，偏袒視覺的感官等級制度崩塌，展覽不僅傳達了一種策展需要破開視覺空間屏障的觀念與邏輯導向，同時探索了無障礙行動的闡釋和轉譯方式，拓展了策展實踐思考無障礙的方式。

2.聽覺解碼

聲音是聯結人與世界的基本交流媒介之一，當代聲景設計以人的聲音機能為核心，創造性地將聲環境、聲信息和聲技術融合成新的媒介。當代策展性手法通過新興媒介對體驗的引導探索聲音可超越的維度，2021年於於木木美術館由難波祐子主策劃的「阪本龍一：觀音·聽時」展覽以敏銳的情緒洞察力打磨聽覺的呈現，其中的《你的時間》將空曠場所兩側並排放置音響與LED面板，鋼琴跟隨地震數據彈奏其因為海浪沖擊而異變的音律，人類定義的鋼琴原音所謂符號定義因自然活動被消除，聲音意味的游離與搖擺在被刻意打造的沉浸場域中被感知。

3.嗅覺祛魅

長期以來，受到嗅覺本身複雜性質的局限，以視聽為主要內容的藝術史中很少出現嗅覺的身影，嗅覺的表達潛能處於被忽視的狀態。當代嗅覺策展正以大量的實踐作品中累積而逐步形成自身的話語場域，但嗅覺藝術的豐碩成果並非是一蹴而就的，它經歷了長久的冷落和漸進的嘗試。2012年策展人Chandler Burr受紐約藝術與設計博物館所委托策劃的「The art of scent香氛藝術」消除了視覺材料的所有參考而僅留下承載氣味的香龕、被懸掛的容器，並給予體驗者比較與討論的嗅覺體驗的游牧場所，以一向被忽視的、私人的嗅覺體驗借由公開交流的主動權調動想象，擺脫被規訓的參展體驗形式而以反向的知覺路徑對當代策展的可能性進行突破。

中心隱匿：多維重塑的觀念敘事——能動的策展性突破展覽的邊界、挑戰規范式空間、超越媒介與感官體驗，使得展覽能夠作為發聲、社交、賦權場拋出問題、催生意義。

（盧錦程·德勒茲「游牧空間」理論下當代策展性手法與觀展空間的關係；[原載：中國民族博覽2023年6期]）

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地方感性

愛懇雲端藝廊：設計故事館

[彩繪玻璃]

有一面彩繪玻璃窗，從上到下只被一個人物形象所佔滿，那人的模樣跟紙牌上的大王相似；他就在上面頂天立地地站著，教堂的拱頂成了他的華蓋。……其中有一面窗像長條的棋盤，由百十塊長方形的小玻璃拼成，主調是藍色的，像當年供查理六世用來解悶的一幅大紙牌。

[古老的建築]

這座建築可以說佔據了四維空間——第四維就是時間，它像一艘船揚帆在世紀的長河中航行，駛過一柱又一柱，一廳又一廳，它所贏得、所超越的似乎不僅僅是多少公尺，而是一個朝代又一個朝代，它是勝利者。

[拱門]

重重疊疊哥特式的、風姿綽約的拱門，一個挨一個地擋著，讓外人一眼看不到樓梯，好比一群千嬌百媚的大姐姐，笑吟吟地擋住了身後土裡土氣、哭哭啼啼、衣衫寒酸的小弟弟。

[拱頂]

幽暗的拱頂下，天花板上鼓起一道道粗壯的筋脈，像一隻巨大的蝙蝠張開的翼膜。

[教堂牆上的植物]

然而在教堂和非教堂之間，卻有一道我的思想始終不能逾越的界限。盡管盧瓦索夫人的窗前有幾棵倒掛金鐘，習慣於不知趣地縱容耷拉著腦袋的樹葉到處亂躥，那上面的花朵開到一定時候，總迫不及待地要把自己的紅得發紫的面孔貼到教堂陰沉的牆上去涼快涼快，我覺得倒掛金鐘並不因此而沾上靈氣；在花朵和它們所投靠的陰沉的牆面之間，我的肉眼雖看不到半點間隙，但是在我的心目中，卻存在著一個不可逾越的深淵。

（摘自：《追憶似水年華》[法語：À la recherche du temps perdu，英语：In Search of Lost Time: The Prisoner and the Fugitive]，[法国]馬塞爾·普魯斯特 [Marcel Proust ，1871年—1922年] 的作品，出版時間：1913–1927，共7卷）

认知美学：理解与创造的机制

爱垦網评注：感性、诗性与认知美学的人文科学角度

爱垦APP：狄尔泰和维柯进场管理学

[爱垦情动转折 Affects-Percepts-Powers]

狄尔泰（Wilhelm Dilthey）和维柯（Giambattista Vico）的理论，虽然在哲学和历史学领域有广泛影响，但在现代管理学文献中，它们的出现并不直接。然而，它们的影响间接地渗透到了管理学的一些理论和实践中。

愛墾APP:個體或群體情感體驗的具身化：吉爾·德勒茲的視角～～吉爾·德勒茲的理論，尤其是他關於情感、生成、以及「無器官的身體」（Body without Organs, BwO）的思想，提出個體或群體的情感體驗，可以通過轉化成為更具動態性和流動性的「身體」得以增強。德勒茲，特別是在與費利克斯·加塔利的合作中，提出了一種哲學框架，認為身體不僅僅是一個生物學上的或靜態的實體，而是一個持續變化和與其他力量、情感、體驗不斷連接的表達場域。

德勒茲理論中支持這一觀點的關鍵概念：

「無器官的身體」（Body without Organs, BwO）：德勒茲和加塔利的「無器官的身體」概念指的是一種逃脫了社會規范、結構或生物決定論所施加的僵化組織和固定功能的身體。他們將身體視為一種強度或流動的平面，在這個平面上，情感、欲望和體驗自由地循環和互動，而不受器官或結構預設功能的限制。

情感體驗，無論是個體的還是群體的，都是在無器官的身體上具身化的，而這個身體始終處於「生成」的狀態，而不是固定不變的。情感的「身體」不是一個靜態的形式，而是一個充滿潛能的場域，其中情感、感受和強度不斷流動並重塑自我或集體。在這個意義上，身體成為了情感可能性的場所，而非一個具體的形式。

例如：一場抗議運動可以被視為情感強度的集體身體。社區中的共同憤怒、希望或改變的欲望，並不僅僅體現於個體身上，而是在通過行動、符號和互動表達這些情感的集體之中得以具現化。

情感與生成

在德勒茲的思想中，情感不僅僅是一種個人情緒，而是一種穿越身體並將其連接到更大集合體或環境的前個體力量或強度。情感是非個人的、變革性的，存在於意識思維之外，具有創造新主體形式的能力。

情感的體驗引發生成，這是一種打破主體或群體固定身份的轉化過程。在這一過程中，個體或群體不斷被欲望、環境和情感遭遇所影響，並重塑自我。

因此，個體或群體的情感體驗不僅存於自身內部，還通過擴展和轉化成新的具身形式——德勒茲稱之為生成。這些生成不受生物身體的限制，而是延展到新的物質、社會和關系構造之中。

例如：一個面對危機的社區中，個體的恐懼情感可能會演變為集體的「生成韌性」，恐懼轉化為集體的團結、新的社會實踐以及增強的社區紐帶。這種集體的「身體」不僅僅作為一種社會形態存在，更是一種持續的情感轉化過程。

組裝體

德勒茲的組裝體（assemblage或agencement）概念指的是身體總是更大關系網絡或系統的一部分。這些組裝體由物質和非物質成分構成，包括情感、欲望、社會結構和環境因素。

個體或群體的情感體驗並非孤立存在，而是總是屬於更大的組裝體。情感體驗轉化為「身體」的過程發生在這些體驗與其他身體、力量和結構互動時，創造了新的集體存在形式。

組裝體是動態且流動的，不斷在情感和欲望流動的驅使下形成、解體和重組。在這個意義上，情感的身體是一種暫時的、不斷變化的組裝體，反映了個體或群體內部持續的生成過程。

例如：一個將藝術、音樂和社區凝聚在一起的文化節就是一個組裝體，在這個組裝體中，個體的情感（喜悅、懷舊、慶祝）與集體的文化表達互動，形成了一種短暫但充滿力量的「身體」之共享體驗。這個身體不是一個穩定的形式，而是情感力量、欲望和社會實踐的活躍互動。

德勒茲理論中的情感體驗具身化

在德勒茲的哲學框架中，個體或群體的情感體驗可以通過生成的持續過程、無器官的身體的流動性以及組裝體的動態來增強為「身體」。這個「身體」不是一個固定的生物實體，而是一個情感流動和強度的場所，在這裡，轉化、連接和新主體性、集體性形式的生成始終在進行。

因此，德勒茲的思想讓我們看到，情感體驗的具身化是一種更為廣泛和動態的過程——創造出新的身體，既有個體的，也有集體的，這些身體不斷進化，並被情感力量所重新定義。


[後記] 2025，愛墾網創立16載；陳明發博士轉行文創研究與推廣第28年。雖然焦頭爛額沒啥獎項可領，但自告奮勇的事還干得不少。實踐多了，面對自己原創的或經手發布出去的5、6萬筆內容，多少有些心得。自信還有點前瞻的價值。現陸續整理出來，答謝這麼多年來默默支持著我們的國內外友好。有些事恐怕不是一代人能完成的，更不是一個人可能完成的。在泛政治的社會，更無異於緣木求魚。現留點檔案，有緣並有能力的人若及時看到，對鄉土轉型或有參考價值。

呼唤型造物  evocative object  The Etymology of Vocative Linguistic Theory on Vocative   內容是Evocative Object 

呼唤

這頭顱的沙漠中

我聽到你幸福的聲音

你的撕裂又易碎的聲音

天真且又憂愁

自遠方傳來且呼喚著我

我把手放在心上

（摘自：[法]雅克·普萊維爾[Jacques Prevert，1900-1977 ]的詩：破鏡）

符號

一切都在向寂靜表達愛意。

他們已向我許諾一種火一般的寂靜——寂靜之屋。

突然，廟宇變成馬戲團，而光是鼓。

（阿萊杭德娜•皮扎尼克（Alejandra Pizarnik）：阿根廷詩人。）

愛墾APP:中文语境中的「慾望」～～這裏有一個非常深刻的語義與文化轉譯問題。在中文語境中，「慾望」往往帶有負面色彩，尤其受到儒家與佛家思想的影響，常與「貪」、「欲念」、「私慾」、「情欲」等相連，具有應當節制、甚至摒除的意味。

而在西方哲學中，特別是從柏拉圖、亞里斯多德到現代心理學、存在主義等，「desire」雖也有需要節制的一面，但它往往被視為驅動行動、形成主體性、自我實現的重要動力。

因此，若希望將西方哲學中的「desire」翻譯為更契合中華文化、且不帶過度負面評價的詞語，可考慮下列幾種選擇：

1. 志向／志願

• 語感： 比較偏向積極、有理想色彩。

• 適用情境： 當 desire 表達的是追求某種價值、成就、意義時（例如存在主義、亞里斯多德的「終極目的」）。

• 例： "the desire for knowledge" →「求知的志向」

2. 追求

• 語感： 中性偏正，比「慾望」溫和；強調行動、目標。

• 適用情境： 講求行動上的投入，或指人對某種價值、狀態的企圖。

• 例： "desire for happiness" →「對幸福的追求」

3. 意念／心願

• 語感： 較抽象、內斂，與儒道思維契合。

• 適用情境： 探討內心動機、情感或存在的傾向。

• 例： "the desire to be free" →「求自由的心願／意念」

4. 本心／本願（尤其在佛教語境中）

• 語感： 帶有哲學與宗教色彩，接近「深層動機」、「初心」。

• 適用情境： 在談論「深層驅動力」或「靈性方向」時使用。

• 例： "fundamental desire of human beings" →「人之本願」

5. 情感動機／內在驅力

• 語感： 現代、心理學化，去除了「貪慾」的負面色彩。

• 適用情境： 在現代哲學或心理學文本中轉譯較技術性的 desire。

• 例： "libidinal desire" →「情感驅力」或「性本能動機」

小結：詞語替代與文化調和

（延續閱讀）

愛墾APP:《反俄狄浦斯》（L'Anti-Œdipe），法文原版，第一卷《資本主義與精神分裂 1：反俄狄浦斯》

第一章〈無意識機器〉

Nous sommes tous des œdipiens, nous avons tous passé par là.

這裡是德勒茲與加塔利對精神分析的批判起點，指出傳統精神分析（尤其是弗洛伊德）如何將所有慾望都框定進俄狄浦斯結構中。

「弗洛伊德將所有夢、幻想和其他文學行為都看作是這個神話的不同版本。」

他們說弗洛伊德將一切慾望壓縮、縮減為一個家庭戲劇（drame familial），即俄狄浦斯神話，把所有的幻想、夢境都還原為同一個結構。這是一種「還原主義」的操作。

→ 參見這一章中對弗洛伊德“神話機器”的分析。

第二章〈社會機器〉

在這一章，他們引入了“社會場域”來與“家庭場域”對抗，主張無意識與整個社會機器（而非家庭情結）密切相關。他們批評精神分析將神話的角色從社會的層面轉移到家庭的層面。

這裡他們特別指出：神話如《俄狄浦斯王》不是某種普遍潛意識的模板，而是特定歷史文化機制的產物。

第三章〈家庭、父母與俄狄浦斯的生產〉

這是最直接處理你所引述問題的章節。他們在此詳述俄狄浦斯是如何「被生產出來」的，而非一種自古以來的普遍心理結構。他們寫道：

Il faut en finir avec l’Œdipe.（必須終結俄狄浦斯。）

此處他們分析了弗洛伊德如何在《夢的解析》與《小漢斯個案》裡重複使用俄狄浦斯框架，並指出這是一種詮釋暴力，將一切意義壓進一種家庭劇情的同構中。

文獻基礎與思想來源：

弗洛伊德的文本基礎：

《夢的解析》（Die Traumdeutung，1900）

《托特與圖騰》（Totem und Tabu，1913）

《論一種幻想的未來》（Das Unbehagen in der Kultur，1930）

這些都是德勒茲與加塔利批判的對象，特別是弗洛伊德如何使用神話（尤其是俄狄浦斯神話）來解釋夢與幻想。

反神話的思路：

他們與列維-斯特勞斯的結構主義有張力，後者雖然也使用神話分析，但更傾向於找出文化的差異性，而非壓縮成普遍心理。

他們提倡「非詮釋性」的閱讀，也就是不再把文學或夢視為「需要解碼」的文本，而是作為慾望本身的表現

無意識作為「生產」而非「再現」：

這是《反俄狄浦斯》的核心命題。他們反對弗洛伊德將無意識視為「象徵系統的再現」場所，而強調它是一種生產性力量。

無意識不重複神話，而是創造機器性聯結。他們寫道：

L'inconscient est productif.（無意識是生產性的。）

總結

愛墾APP:Sensation & Sentiment  

在情動理論（affective theory）中，「感覺（sensation）」與「情感（sentiment）」是兩個相關但本質上不同的概念。以下是它們的主要區別：

感覺（Sensation）～ 定義：感覺是來自身體對外部或內部刺激的直接、生理性的經驗。這些刺激可以是視覺、聽覺、觸覺、痛覺、溫度等。特徵：是原始的、即時的、短暫的。主要與感官系統（如眼睛、皮膚、神經）有關。通常不涉及詮釋或價值判斷。例子：感覺到針刺是痛的。聽到音樂聲。感到冷風吹過手臂。

情感（Sentiment）～定義：情感是對某種經驗、對象、事件的持續性情緒態度或價值反應。它是一種心理建構，通常帶有某種評價成分。特徵：是較長期、具有社會或文化建構性的。與個人的認知、記憶、價值觀密切相關。包含對某人或某事的情緒傾向或判斷。例子：對某個國家的深厚感情（愛國 sentiment）。對某人長期的厭惡或尊敬。社會上對某個議題的主流情感傾向（如支持或反對某種政策）。

簡明對照表

延伸說明：

在某些現代的情動理論（如 Deleuze 或 Massumi 的理論）中，還會引入「情動（affect）」來與 sensation 和 sentiment 區別：

情動（Affect）：是介於感覺與情感之間的狀態，偏向非語言化、潛意識的身體情緒能量。

Massumi 強調：「sensation 是立即的、感官的；affect 是潛動力（intensity）；而 sentiment 是社會語言化後的情感認同」。