Sunday, 22 April 2018

Synaesthesia (LUSH): Content

Research has shown that the Synaesthesia Spa Day is based on the different stimulation of the senses and how with music, essential oils and choreographed movements a multi-sensory experience can be created. The content for the 'coffee table' book should outline all of the types of synaesthesia, but it seems as though the target audience may not want it to be too informative if they are relaxed after a spa treatment and more of a visual book. This could be achieved by using short descriptions and then presenting the different artists famous for synaesthetic inspired pieces to be presented with sections each, lots of pages of their artwork and then a little but of writing and quotes from interviews relating to their work and approaches. A strong visual style representing both LUSH and the individual spa day will be a mandatory requirement. 

I did a lot of planning on a word document and then placed a lot on the pages that i thought would be appropriate so that I could see what was missing and what was not needed. 

Information booklet content:
Would you like to have AMBITION or ESTEEM be UNINHIBITED to develop your sense of HUMOUR build CONFIDENCE enjoy a MIND CLEANSER or RELAX be ENERGISED have more PERSPECTIVE be ENLIGHTENED or just at PEACE

What is it?
An 80-minute journey deep within, using sensory massage, soaring soundscapes and behavioural prescriptions to transform your state of mind. The signature treatment allows you to decide how you want to feel by choosing from the eleven behavioural prescriptions for a unique experience each time.

About synaesthesia
Synaesthesia is a perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads too automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.

Where do you want to go today?
Seasons of massage and sensory delirium fuelled by the way you want to feel. Here’s a mind cleanser. Take an 80-minute journey deep within, choreographed by acres of coastline, birdsong and the power of words. It’s the scent of magic, confidence and esteem: a unique language of music, fine essential oils and full body massage which engages and merges all your senses, sending you into a rapture of storybook imagery and immersive sensations. Ponder this tremendous scene, this whole experiment of enlightened green as the peal of distant bells rings out. Hot sunlight, lush fields, going back in time - laughter wings away like butterflies, all sweet, green humour and glorious mornings. Energised. Uninhibited: the earth is turning, burning, giving you life. Perspective. Peace. Find yourself on the hillside watching the sky darken and turn to night in Hardy’s country, where the roll of the world eastward is almost a palpable movement and massage is exquisite poetry.
Enjoy the panorama: all delight of human sense exposed in this composition of your own making and experience, never the same and never predictable. Welcome to Xanadu, where gardens are bright with sinuous rills, and blossoms many an incense-bearing tree; where soundscapes of slow motion ring out, tuning your mind into a deep state of relaxation, taking you from evening to night to dawn and day once more. You’ve tumbled down the rabbit hole with Alice, dived into a verdant fantasia, stepped into a vortex of imagination where your body is a landscape made in the mind.

Soundscapes of slow motion ring out, tuning your mind into a deep state of relaxation taking you from evening to night to dawn and day once more.”

Where?
Bath
8 Union St, BA1 1RW
01225 428271

Cardiff
59-61 Queen St, CF10 2AT
029 2039 9089

Edinburgh
115 Princes St, EH 3AA
0131 225 4688

Leeds
12-13 Commercial St, LS1 6AL
0113 243 3626

London – Chelsea
123 Kings Road, SW3 4PL
020 7376 8348

London – Oxford St.
175-179 Oxford St, W1D 2JS
0207 789 0002

Liverpool
9-11 Whitechapel, L1 6DS
0151 236 6952

Poole
29 High Street, BH15 1AB
01202 672217

Paris, Spain, Hong Kong, USA, Japan, Brazil and Korea

The Treatment
When entering a Lush spa, you may see our Synaesthesia wall, in the kitchen. During your Synaesthesia consultation you will be asked to pick one of the behavioural prescriptions from the wall and this will determine your treatment. Synaesthesia works to alter your state of mind in a positive transformative way, based on the behavioural prescription you choose at the start of your treatment.
A full body multi-sensory massage, Synaesthesia stimulates all of your senses to create a specific feeling. By using the secret blend of essential oils used in the bespoke spa massage bars to stimulate the state of mind, they perfectly reflect the chosen word to uplift the senses. As well as perfuming the skin, the Fair Trade Cocoa Butter and Shea Butter base of these rich massage bars allow the therapist to glide over the skin throughout the 80-minute treatment whilst moisturising and conditioning. These massage bars are exclusive to our spas, apart from the Peace massage bar which you can find on our shop floors
Finally, at the end of their treatment, the customer is invited to drink a tea especially infused with their behavioural prescription blend in the kitchen with their spa therapist. To further the treatment’s effect, the customer takes away their massage bar and a special spa exclusive reusable bubble stone to match, so they can continue their Synaesthesia experience at home.

The Inspiration
The term synaesthesia comes from Ancient Greek, “syn" and “aisthēsis” meaning together and sensation, respectively. Synaesthesia is a neurological condition where a sensation in one of the senses, such as hearing, triggers a sensation in another, such as taste. For instance, some people with synaesthesia can hear colours or see patterns or shapes to music. This is the case with two of the people who developed this treatment, Mark Constantine and musician Simon Emmerson. Together, they wanted to create a treatment to stimulate and merge all the senses to give a transformative effect.
The first and signature treatment of Lush Spa, Synaesthesia was proudly released at the flagship spa at King’s Road, London which then had only this singular treatment on the menu - an unheard of feat for any spa to do.
The training each spa therapist undergoes ensures each client has a unique and immersive experience, and none more so than with Synaesthesia. This treatment has eleven different ways it can be performed depending on the behavioural prescription chosen by the client, ranging from different massage techniques to hot and cold stones, all choreographed perfectly in time with the music.

The Music
Blissful bird song and an orchestral score place you in the Dorset countryside on a perfect English Sunday morning. The soundtrack passes through the day and into a twilight of majestic bird chorus before you are led into the heart of a still, dark forest as night closes in. The patter of soft rain beckons in a dawn chorus of rooks and jackdaws stirring all around you before the music sweeps you off again to the magical Scarborough Fair. The music and movements dance together, creating a physical ballet of the senses.


“Choreographed by acres of coastline, birdsong and the power of words.”



Catalogue content:
Synaesthesia is a perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads too automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.

The perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads too involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.

In auditory-tactile synaesthesia, certain sounds can induce sensations in parts of the body. For example, someone with auditory-tactile synaesthesia may experience that hearing a specific word feels like touch in one specific part of the body or may experience that certain sounds can create a sensation in the skin without being touched. It is one of the least common forms of synaesthesia.

Mirror touch is a rare form of synaesthesia where individuals feel the same sensation that another person feels (such as touch). A synaesthete may witness someone being tapped on the shoulder and the synaesthete involuntarily feels a tap on their own shoulder as well.

Spatial sequence synaesthesia causes a numerical sequence to be seen as points in space, such as the number 1 being far away and the number 2 being closer. 

Ordinal-linguistic personification
This type is known as ordinal-linguistic personification or OLP. The individual will associate ordered sequences with various personalities. Ordered sequences may include numbers, letters, months etc. For example, someone may look at the letter ‘A’ and think in his mind that ‘A’ is a rude letter.

Lexical-Gustatory 
This one of the rarer synaesthesia types and those who experience this kind of synaesthesia evoke different kinds of tastes when they hear certain words or phonemes. Research has shown that associations between the words and what a synaesthete is able to taste are constrained by tastes he or she has experienced early in life. 

Grapheme-to-colour
Associating/seeing individual letters or numbers with a specific colour. Usually, two people do not associate the same colours, apart from the letter A which has commonly been reported to be red.

Sound-to-colour
Sound triggers the visualisation of coloured, generic shapes. For certain people, the stimuli are limited, and only a few types of sounds will trigger a perception. Usually, the perceived colours appear in generic shapes such as squares, circles and triangle.

Number-form
A number form is a mental map that consists of numbers. When a person with number-form synaesthesia thinks about numbers, a number map is involuntarily visualised. 

LUSH
Mark Constantine OBE, LUSH co-founder and managing director

Do you have any other forms of synaesthesia besides scent-colour/shape? 
MC: I don’t think so but I’m not completely sure. I find that when I look at a set of numbers, I know when they are wrong. I can sense it. Or when I look at percentages, I intuitively know if they are not right.
When did you realize you perceived scents this way? Did you keep it a secret or tell people?
MC: In a meeting at work with about 50 people. I thought the reason I looked at things this way was normal until everyone explained to me it was not actually normal.
It was then reinforced in an interview with Vogue magazine who brought a number of items for me to smell (such as coffee, lemon, different fragrances) and then asked me to draw what I was smelling.
What do you think the meaning/value of synaesthesia is? 
MC: It’s a different way of appreciating the world. It’s not wrong, I think it heightens your awareness.
I find it exceptionally useful in my work, particularly with fragrance – everything has a right or wrong shape and I know intuitively straight away. I’m not thinking in numbers so much as shape.
I think it helps but I don’t like to think about it too much as it makes me feel a little self-conscious.

Simon Emmerson, LUSH’S musical director

What are some of your musical associations? For example, what colour/shape is F#?
SE: I am not totally convinced by the popularized reductive approach to understanding synaesthesia that explains it away by simply tagging one concept/sensation with another random dissociated experience or concept.
f# = dark blue, Number 7 = the smell of fish
This is the popular conception of synaesthesia and I do appreciate most synaesthetes have this. But this form of synaesthesia can easily get confused with what may be just deep random/creative memory connections.
Yes, I would say E major is a very black key but that may be because it is the guitarist’s favourite key and is used in heavy rock. D minor (especially in its modal form without a 3rd) is very 'Blue' but then it's the preferred key of cool modal jazz and Blue Note records. F+ is for me an earthy rustic red, the colour of the soil in Senegal but that may be because I co-wrote a song with a Senegalese Kora player that was in F#.

What are some of your favourite synaesthetic moments?
SE: ­­­­­My favourite Beatle as a child was always George Harrison who for me was represented by the number 3 (the 3rd Beatle?) and the colour green and the smell of oranges. I was obsessed with shades of green and the number 3 and the number 9. Whenever I saw a picture of George Harrison I smelt oranges. It became a family joke.
The rhythms I REALLY love have always been 3/4, 6/8 and 9/8. When producing Baba Maahl in Senegal in the early 90's I found a deep connection between the triplet rhythms of his music and traditional Celtic music and went on to form the Afro Celt Sound System to explore these connections. But to be honest this was as much to do with my inherent love of the way triplets move against a 4 or an 8 count.
When I hear hardcore 4/4 music like house/disco music, I can't stand it. It's the only form of music I can't listen to and will leave a club if they are playing relentless House music with the same 4/4 bass drum pounding throughout the night. It literally 'closes me down'. 3's and 9's are very maternal, open, excepting numbers and rhythms, whereas 4 is a very male, authoritarian, judgmental rhythm.
I think there is a much more complex understanding of synaesthesia that works on the level of deep archetypes and unconscious creativity.
When I mix music I know we have hit a sonic sweet spot when I sense the convergence of shapes forming a harmonious whole. The bass frequencies are circular and oval moving up the sonic spectrum to the pyramid/triangular shapes of higher frequencies. Each shape has a non-specific colour but when the mix is working the shapes and colours fall into a very pleasing spectrum that is like a meta language of the music. A 'bad' mix is a mess of shapes with jagged edges and 'noisy' confused colours, it can make me very uncomfortable and even angry at times!
A good mix is the physical sensation of shapes and colours falling into place in a way that is impossible to describe other than as a harmonious whole.
The ‘Synaesthesia’ LUSH spa treatment was a joy because I could literally bathe in the colors and shapes I use when creating music.

Products used
The power of sensual massage

The Music
Blissful bird song and an orchestral score place you in the Dorset countryside on a perfect English Sunday morning. The soundtrack passes through the day and into a twilight of majestic bird chorus before you are led into the heart of a still, dark forest as night closes in. The patter of soft rain beckons in a dawn chorus of rooks and jackdaws stirring all around you before the music sweeps you off again to the magical Scarborough Fair. The music and movements dance together, creating a physical ballet of the senses.

“Choreographed by acres of coastline, birdsong and the power of words.”

Track list:

1.     Song Thrush At Corfe Castle
2.     The Great Western
3.     Song Thrush And Jackdaws
4.     Jack Snipe Hornpipe
5.     Last Night
6.     Nightjar And Tawny Owls
7.     The Star Studded Plough
8.     Nightingale
9.     Peace Love and Harmonium
10.   Nightingale And Owls
11.   The night Vigil
12.   Dawn Chorus
13.   First Rain
14.   Scarborough Fair
15.   Rooks And Jackdaws
16.   A Parliament Of Rooks


Interviews
Michal Levy
Giant Steps - 'I play saxophone and am deeply attached to music. When I play or listen, I always feel that I actually “see” the music. Both music and the visual arts share concepts like tone (of colour or sound), composition, harmony. Naturally they mixed and mingled in my consciousness over the years.'
This visual representation of Coltrane's Giant Steps, attempts to represent the complex harmonic structure that has challenged many musicians and performers. Michal Levy expresses that there was no need to invent something new in order to visualise the music, it just required listening over and over again as the answers to the questions were within the music itself.

The repeated pattern in the melody has been visualised as a building's structure, played twice and then in the film the framework is complete when constructed twice, showing this idea. The general approach was to understand the emotional meaning of each musical phrase and to then choose the direction in space in the visual world that will suit it best.

Michal Levy
One – Michal Levy discover Jason's music back in 2000 when she participated in a student exchange program in New York. His music was seen to be 'colourful and exciting' and when closing eyes, it was visualised in shapes and colours.

'What are the colours of music, in what space does music live? If it's moving, then in which direction?' are the questions that framed the creation of another animation that would 'show the music'.

As a saxophonist, observing music and translating it into a language of forms and patterns is often exciting and rewarding. This animation was created with attempt to express this in a visual way to those who may not experience synaesthesia, but are interested by it.

Melissa McCracken
How did you realise that most people don't hear in colour?
I used to think my synaesthesia was normal and that asking anyone about it would be like asking them if they could smell the coffee in a coffee shop. At 16, I found out that it wasn't when I was trying to choose a ringtone. My phone was blue and I told my friend I was going to pick an "orange" song to match it because they're complementary colours. He seemed really confused and I thought there was something wrong with him. It finally clicked in a high school psychology class. It was shocking because I'd never thought it was unusual.

Do you have to close your eyes to see the colours or do they cloud your sight?
Synaesthesia doesn't interfere with my sight in any way and it's not hallucinogenic. It just floats there in a similar way to how you would imagine something or visualize a memory. I don't need to close my eyes but it helps me visualize it better if I do.

How did you come to start painting your favourite songs?
Colour seemed like the most natural thing for me to paint because I've always loved it, so I wanted to go down an abstract route. I started painting memories from notable times in my life and thinking of the specific songs that related to them. People seemed interested in my synaesthesia so it became my core subject.

Do certain music genres look prettier than others?
I think so. Expressive music such as funk is a lot more colourful, with all the different instruments, melodies, and rhythms creating a highly saturated effect. Guitars are generally golden and angled, and piano is more marbled and jerky because of the chords. I rarely paint acoustic music because it's often just one person playing guitar and singing, and I never paint country songs because they're boring muted browns. The key and tone also has an impact, so I try and paint the overall feeling of the song.

Does a song look the same every time you listen to it?
It depends what I'm focusing on. If I notice a bass line I'd never noticed or honed in on before, the look will change, but generally it looks exactly the same. If I try to paint the same song twice it'll turn out differently because you can't splatter paint the same way twice.

Do synaesthetes see the same colours in the same songs?
Not always. I once met another painter with synaesthesia and for comparison we both painted "Little Wings" by Jimi Hendrix. Our final pieces looked totally different, proving how subjective it is. I love studying Kandinsky's art because he also had synaesthesia but his paintings are much more geometric.

Do you ever turn down requests to paint songs?
I want to stay true to who I am as an artist, so if a song isn't visually appealing or doesn't personally resonate with me then I politely say no. People are usually understanding and don't want to make me do anything I don't want to do. On the other hand, I often discover bands I like through people's suggestions.

Do you like songs because of how they look or do they look nice because you like them?
It's a chicken and the egg argument! I've heard that synaesthesia is highly associative. Many people with colour to letters synaesthesia find it correlates with the alphabet magnets they used to have on their fridge. I loved pink and purple as a little girl and my favourite songs from that time are those colours. I'm not sure whether I created that, or I was simply around pink and purple a lot, or if everything moulded together.

Do you only paint songs or do you paint other sounds too?
Sound isn't as jarring as music. There's usually one quick burst of colour and then it disappears. But for my mom's birthday I painted the sound of her footsteps. I remember hearing her clicking heels when she came home and it was such a comforting (purple!) sound to me as a child.

Have you met anyone else with synaesthesia?
I met a girl at college who saw shapes when she heard voices—I remember her dad's was triangular—and she also tasted pitch. A banana would be a high C, or something. Talking to her is so strange because, even though I can totally relate to the concept, her synaesthesia still makes no sense to me.

Pharrell, Kanye West, and Lady Gaga have all spoken about their synaesthesia recently. Is this rise in awareness a positive thing?
Definitely. Everyone who has experienced synaesthesia is going to process it differently. I've received many lovely emails from synesthetes who struggled with the sense that something wrong was with them just because they saw colours when listening to music. It's great that there is more awareness of it today because whether an experience is positive or negative, it's always nice to know that someone can relate to you and that you're not alone.

Daniel Liam Glyn
'Changing Stations' is an album based on the 11 main lines of the London Underground map. Now being re-released by composer and synaesthete, Daniel Liam Glyn, every track has been transformed into an eclectic mix of Electronica, Ambient House, Nu Disco, and Drum & Bass. 'Changing Stations: Derailed' injects a new lease of life into the original classical piano compositions, with the track listing being re-arranged to form a new 'journey' on the London Underground. We wanted to know more about Daniel, his motivations, and his synaesthesia.

TELL US WHAT FORM OF SYNAESTHESIA YOU HAVE?
I have both grapheme-colour and spatial-sequence synaesthesia.

HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU HAD IT?
After watching a documentary about grapheme-colour synaesthesia, I was met with the possibility that I had it. I was sixteen or seventeen, and up until that point, I just assumed that the way I would envisage numbers, letters and words was just how everyone did. From a young age I associated ‘September’ with the colour yellow, the number ‘4’ was green and the letter ‘E’ was pink. I’d ask people if they thought the same way in which I did – but they’d often be puzzled.
I was known for having an expansive long term memory such remembering anniversaries of certain dates, even occasions with no real sentiment attached. Sometimes I would look at the date on the calendar and test myself with how far back I could remember, week by week working backwards until I managed a full year.  It was only until around 3 years ago when I researching into the condition further when I realised that I also had Spatial Sequence Synaesthesia. Along with assigning colours of the months of the year, I also visualise them as a celestial map of space. Each month is depicted as a planet with a designated colour, illustrated in an uneven circle where I move from day to day, gliding through the map. When the circle is complete, it leads onto a new year and the orbit begins again.
Every time I need to remember something from a past event, my mind takes me to the map in space. All my random life events and memories would be sitting in their rightful positions depending on what time of year they were featured – rather like a peculiar filing cabinet.

HAVE YOU FOUND YOUR SYNAESTHESIA HAS CAUSED YOU ANY PROBLEMS?
A lot of the conversations I had during the Changing Stations campaign focused on how wonderful having synaesthesia is. Yes, it’s completely fascinating how it enables me to perceive the world in a different way to others, and I’m lucky that it inspired me to utilise it within my musical compositions. However, like most things in life, the stuff that is a blessing can also be a curse. There are times where I do see it as a hindrance.
It’s so hard to describe because synaesthesia isn’t something that is tangible; it makes little sense, sometimes even to the person with the condition. When I think about the Spatial Sequence part of my synaesthesia, I break it down, and see that my brain has involuntarily connected two things together. When that happens the outcome is usually permanent, which is how I then perceive things going forward. This means it can sometimes leave a mark on certain events in my life.
I can begin to associate several numbers, weeks and months with a bad memory, which can then encourage me to think too much. My mind focuses heavily on time frames, which becomes difficult when my brain connects a present life event with one from the past. Inevitably, it can have an effect on my mood and also hold me back from moving forward from experiences. Due to the past being so clearly mapped out in shapes and colour, my ability to ‘see’ into the future is rather vague. A lot of my synesthetic associations with ‘time’ are mapped out in the past.

WHAT MAKES YOU SO DRAWN TO THE LONDON UNDERGROUND MAP?
I have been mesmerised with the London Underground map for as long as I can remember. I think it was the amalgamation of the busy and complex structure of the map along with the assigned colours on each line that captivated me. The structure reminded me of my own brain – immaculately designating the different colours to different sections. The lines all cross over one another, connecting stations at intersections that take you from one place to another. I love the history and the evolution of its design, plus it can also be quite similar to synaesthesia – difficult to understand!

TELL US ABOUT THE EUREKA MOMENT WHEN YOU KNEW YOU HAD TO USE THE MAP TO INSPIRE YOUR MUSIC?
In 2009, when I had finished university and was pondering with the idea of moving to London, I sat awake in bed one evening and somehow decided to look at my Underground Map leaflet that I’d picked up on a recent trip to the city a week earlier. I looked at all the different stations and places, imagining how interesting it would be to get to know the Underground system a bit better.
It wasn’t until I moved to London when I started to properly consider the idea of working on a music project that would lend itself to the characteristics of the tube lines. I wanted something that would represent the different journeys, commuters, and speeds of the trams – something that was unique and special to me, but without alienating the listener by being too complicated. 
During a journey home from work one evening my synaesthesia was triggered, and it was then when I felt the scope for a major project had been widened: connecting together journeys and colour with music.
I felt that working on a collection of pieces that would eventually form a 'series' would also be a respectful nod to “The Planets” suite by Gustav Holst. My dad had this particular orchestral work on vinyl, and it was one of the first classical pieces of music that I was introduced to. Each movement of the suite is named after a planet of the Solar System along with their corresponding astrological character (as interpreted by Holst).  At this point, I felt that all of these ideas that were coming together for 'Changing Stations' was like the planets aligning. What started as a simple idea eventually grew into 11 pieces for piano – each based on the 11 main lines of the London Underground. My grapheme-colour Synaesthesia dictated the way the tube line was composed, and the key signature it was composed in.
DO YOU HAVE A FAVOURITE TUBE LINE?
Of all the questions, this is the most difficult! They are all quite unique, yet so strangely familiar and uniform.  I loved the rush of the Central Line – the places it would take you and the atmosphere on the carriages. The Victoria Line would also remind me of all the times I would visit friends. With that said, I think I’ll have to go with the Northern Line. This is the first line I would come into contact with when I arrived at Euston station, which would then take me to my flat in Kentish Town. Along with this, black, to me, is a strong colour. It’s bold, it’s deep and it’s substantial.
This particular piece is written in D major – one of my favourite keys to both play and listen to, and I have many personal connections to the tonality of the music that is written in this key signature. Subject to much popular belief, travelling on the Northern Line for me felt rather simple. It was consistent and reliable. This line to me symbolises ‘home’, which it why it’s entitled ‘Abode’ on the album.

    
Find out more: changingstations.london
Follow Daniel: @DanielLiamGlyn

Musicians

Poetry

Nolan Liebert – How to eat a tornado
You use your hands,
the ones that carved
runes in the sky
with blood orange
lightning. Wrestle
world-breath – sweet green
inhales, exhales,
cloudspun tofu,
windwhipped seeds. Plant
your fearless mouth
firmly against
the wild blue storm,
let it kiss hard
your cracked-earth skin,
breathe the bitter
apocalypse.
Finally, swallow.

Felix cohen – Licking a 9V battery: a synaesthetic response to flavours and cocktails
I work as a bartender. I’ve been doing it for 10 years, and the way I taste things has changed loads in that time.

I used to experience flavour like I experience music (I have absolutely no idea how music ‘works’, but I love it: it was just an overwhelming sensory blast that I couldn’t analyse, but it was amazing. When I began in this industry I was lucky enough to work for bar owners who, for various reasons, wanted to make a loss. So I tried a lot of assorted boozes. In those early days, I mixed some terrible drinks, because I didn’t understand that building drinks was about creating balances; where the synaesthesia of flavour comes into its own.

Wine tasting is fascinating to watch: people taste various different wines and wax lyrical about all the flavours they perceive; something is vanilla-y, has notes of stone fruits, finishes with a note of leather, and so on. But only expert wine tasters tend to say: this tastes like Beaujolais. When people taste wine, they pull it apart into other flavours they already know, and it takes an expert to look at that ‘constellation’ of other flavours and reassemble it into an identifiable wine.

It’s the same when we talk about food; ‘it tastes like chicken’ is a tired trope, but only because we need to say it all the time. Everything tastes like something else, but we don’t tend to talk about taste in terms of what psychologists call primitives. Instead, we cast about for likenesses.

When we see, we don’t do that. Instead, we have a ‘gestalt’ view. Our brain identifies things like cubes, spheres, flat surfaces or the path of a moving object – basic functions that let us build a comprehensible scene in our heads that lets us sit on a chair or catch a ball. These primitives tend to be things we can talk to each other about, but there are elements of our senses that we find impossible to talk about, like the concept of red.

Psychologists (and philosophers) refer to these as qualia: the completely subjective impressions of a colour you see, a texture you touch or a flavour. There is no way to know if your perception of red feels the same as somebody else’s.

So what’s happening in your brain when you taste something? You’ve probably noticed how a bad cold stops you from enjoying your food, and kills your appetite. Well, that’s because taste isn’t just a matter of what’s on your tongue (which, by the way does not have different sections for tasting different flavours); how something smells is a huge factor, and so is what’s called the ‘trigeminal systems’ – the nerves that cover your face, nose and cheeks, and contribute to the ‘mouthfeel’ and texture of food and drink you’re tasting. Those three systems combine to give you the flavour of what’s in your mouth.

That flavour impression is incredibly subjective; you can pull out parts of it that remind you of other flavours, and what you’re expecting makes a huge difference. So if wine tasters are given cheap wine in an expensive-looking dusty bottle, they report it tasting better than the same wine in the proper bottle. Same with plastic glasses vs Riedel crystal. Even the famous Pepsi challenge was an exercise in tricking peoples taste buds; Pepsi is sweeter, so the small portions people tried were more enjoyable than Coke, but when you drink a whole can, Coke’s subtler flavours are preferred.

A regular of mine once asked me for a drink he’d had elsewhere that ‘tasted like licking a 9V battery’. Clearly, we’d both licked a few too many batteries, as I knew exactly what he meant, and made a Sazerac (rye whiskey, sugar, absinthe and peychaud bitters).

He’s right; the drink does give you the same jolt in your jawbone that a few volts will provide, and even has the same metallic aftertaste. It’s incredibly rare that I hear such a succinct description of a drinks flavour, and it was an amazing moment for both of us.

After all, when I’m coming up with new drinks for a cocktail menu, or tasting food to put together a pairing list, having an idea about how other people might perceive the flavour is incredibly important. And incredibly impossible. So I rely on my own perception of taste as well as experience and precedence over what people like.

That might mean an old classic gets updated to reflect modern palates and modern ingredients, or it might mean that I’m coming up with a completely new drink. Sometimes inventing a new drink is as easy as swapping an ingredient in an established drink for another; if gin works well in Negroni, I bet Pisco will as well. Sometimes, though, drinks are a flash of inspiration.

In those cases, taste is fascinatingly synaesthetic. When im creating a recipe that im excited about, im often trying to make something that tastes nothing like its constituent parts. A Tom Collins showcases the particular gin that you’ve chosen in a simple and glorious fashion, but signature drinks for a menu should almost do the opposite; the ingredients and proportions are essential, but the drink shouldn’t taste noticeably like any of them.

And that’s where the synaesthesia of flavour comes into its own; if an ingredient reminds me of another flavour, I will sit and drink and think (nice work if you can get it!) until I can distil what it is that im really tasting.

For those drinks, thinking about balance is like thinking about a painting, or a song. The drink has to work in an unexpected way. So, my reinvented Sex on the Beach (yes, really) starts with me wanting desperately to use corn whiskey in a frivolous drink.

From corn whiskey, like a frying pan of butter just starting to sizzle, I add peach: almost colourless, but taking away the rough edges of the corn whiskey mental image. Then some blood orange juice; it fits in with Sex on the Beach, but more importantly, it replaces the mellow buttery yellow blob with a corduroy red pool.


Finally, it’s given a sheen with cranberry bitters, adding a metallic glisten. Beautiful in my mind, and the drink works spectacularly … it tastes like all of its ingredients, but also none of them. Alchemy.

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