There Are No Words: Anatomy of a Migraine.
—EMP 2013

I'm a huge fan of Chandler Burr, especially because he is so passionate about scent and so tends to come off a bit insane. I generally find that sort of zealot personality tiresome (see: religion, politics, food) but I tend to love it when its directed toward art, style and design (including fragrance).

But we can clearly see the materials used to make a building. That's a huge part of the appeal of a Gehry. Why shouldnt we know what's in his stinky insufferable crap?

How about this for a scent installation at the EMPSFMXYZABC: Old Rich Guy's Attic Full of Crap He Likes. They've got the curved walls and the crap, all they need are some placards and a really passionate olfaphile like Mr. Burr to sell it. If they don't have room for the placards, maybe we can sell P-Al some more land on the cheap so they can expand.

Scent is so difficult as a shared experience, and I feel like that's such an essential part of art...

Still, oenophiles freak out together fine, so maybe I'm wrong.

This is the WASPiest load of bullshit in the history of WASPy loads of bullshit.

I'm going to eat a pound of my special three-day-old refried beans and go to the Met and show them what olfactory art is all about.

Fnarf, dammit, you beat me to the fart joke. Surely they would not be so offensive as to dissect your fart ingredient by ingredient, but rather see it as a whole. I'd hate to see Burr inflamed -- but farts are flammable...

Another thought -- what about an olfactory (f)art-in, whereby several (dozen?) people visit the exhibit and do their best to out-olfactory the odorous art?

@8, there's always room for more. You could be over there, enjoying the results of nine stale PBRs, while I'm in the far corner preaching the gospel of beans.

The perfumeries near Nice include a few museums of scent. Way more fun than the pebbly beach.

@10 How did you know what I drank last night?