Towards a Nude Architecture
As one of the most volcanically active regions in the world, Japan’s islands are dotted with nearly 30,000 naturally occurring hot springs, or onsen, ranging in color, temperature, and mineral composition. With a history that stretches back some 1,300 to 3,000 years—winding its way through ancient religions, warring empires, medical advancements, and a rising tourist economy—these thermal baths have become an integral part of the nation’s identity. Due to declining visitors and increasing privatization, however, the need to preserve these cultural beacons has only become more pressing. Compiling photographs, drawings, collages, and diagrams from more than a decade of cross-country travel, architect and designer Yuval Zohar’s new book, Towards a Nude Architecture: A Visual Compendium of Japanese Hot Springs (Nai010), considers the narratives of onsen through an architectural lens, presenting a visual trajectory of the natural phenomena across centuries and geographies. In three chapters respectively devoted to the past, present, and future, Zohar’s book examines bathing’s spiritual beginnings, the myriad modern-day structures that house the tradition, and the practice’s lasting significance.

“Her Scent of Mystery” at Olfactory Art Keller
Originally created for Elizabeth Taylor’s enigmatic character Sally Kennedy, in the 1960 Smell-O-Vision film Scent of Mystery, the eponymous perfume’s lore continues to linger decades later. Conserved by scent historians Jas Brooks and Tammy Burnstock, this once-lost fragrance now takes on a new interpretation by perfumer Marissa Zappas. Drawing on both the original oxidized perfume by Raoul Pantaleoni and historical accounts, Zappas used chemical analysis and creative reconstruction to craft a modern rendition that’s at once light, floral, and nostalgic, channeling what the film’s novelization describes as “the girl at the far end of the rainbow.” On view at New York City gallery Olfactory Art Keller through Sept. 20, “Her Scent of Mystery” unveils the revived fragrance—housed in a bespoke flacon by Australian glass artist Mark Eliott and a case by Taswegian craftsman Luke Scheppers—to the public. Through archival materials including press photographs and booklets, along with original illustrations by Nadia Roden from the documentary In Glorious Smell-O-Vision, the exhibition traces the perfume’s curious trajectory from plot point to unrealized Schiaparelli product and serves as a testament to the elusive yet lasting impression scents can make on us. Bottles of the limited-edition fragrance are available for pre-order via Brooks’s website Snivure.

Architecton
What forces—whether human or natural—determine which buildings last and which are lost to time? In Victor Kossakovsky’s transfixing Architecton, an A24 documentary about our built environment, preservation and destruction inhabit two sides of a perpetually flipping coin. Traveling from Ukraine (war-ravaged by Russia’s invasion since 2022), to Turkey ​​(post–2023 earthquake), to the Lebanese city of Baalbek (with its Roman ruins), Kossakovsky takes viewers on a sweeping, visually confrontational tour of places under pressure, all through the lens of concrete and ancestral stone. A hypnotic score by Evgueni Galperine and sound design by Aleksandr Dudarev accompany gripping sequences of tumbling mountain rocks and earth in motion that call to mind an unstoppable, larger-than-life tidal wave. The film’s rare inclusion of dialogue makes the moments of language all the more haunting. As one of the film’s few human subjects, Italian architect and designer Michele de Lucchi, tells the director at one point—as they sit together just outside a stone circle that de Lucchi and fellow builders constructed with care, made to outlive them both—“Architecture is just a way to think about how we live. When we design something, we design the behavior of people.”

To our senior editor, Olivia Aylmer, the world of media is a library of jewels just waiting to be picked up and appreciated. As someone who loves a good dig (including for vinyl records and one-of-a-kind vintage pieces), she tends to seek out independent, below-the-radar, archival, and newly emerging print and digital media gems. Not two, not five, but 15-plus newsletters are in her weekly rotation, and her ever-growing print magazine collection spans early 2000s issues of i-D, the elusive Enzo the Magazine, and The Surfer’s Journal. This roving curiosity has taken her far and wide professionally, from positions at book publishers and magazines including Little, Brown and Company and Vanity Fair, to her work in the audio world at the Association of Independents in Radio. As an arts and culture writer, her work has been published in places such as Dazed, Another, Cake Zine, and the critical fashion journal Vestoj. Last year, Aylmer edited her first book project, Standard Deviation, a debut collection of poetry and essays by Meetra Javed. A staunch advocate for the rights of freelance media workers, she also organizes with the Freelance Solidarity Project, the National Writers Union’s digital-media division, which works to improve labor conditions across the industry.

Here, Aylmer details some of her most treasured media finds—the diamonds in the rough that, for her, stand the test of time and prove, again and again, to be invaluable sources of inspiration and fascination.

How do you start your mornings?
For a few years now, I’ve eased into my mornings (and occasionally wound down my days) with Maria Somerville’s long-running The Early Bird Show on NTS. She records it live from Ireland’s west coast, in Galway. Along with the dreamy, hand-selected mix of ambient, folk, and experimental music, I appreciate Maria’s weather reports and interstitial shout-outs to listeners tuning in from cities all over—it makes the world feel small and connected. There’s also iced coffee with a splash of cream, always.

Where do you get your news from?
I tune in to local public radio daily, especially WNYC’s Brian Lehrer, as well as worker-owned news outlets like Hell Gate, to stay informed and engaged with what’s happening in New York City. I often turn to The Nation and to Anand Giridharadas’s Substack, The Ink, for sharp, thoughtful analysis and honest reflections on what’s happening in our world.

Any favorite newsletters?
If there’s one thing I appreciate about the vast sea of newsletters and blogs on offer at the moment, it’s their generous sharing of knowledge and excellent tips spanning my multitude of interests, all rooted in expansive curiosity. I aim to support the writers whose work I appreciate as often as possible, and I’m constantly filing away new-to-me films, books, and music, vintage and indie-designer recs, and spots to visit during future travels. In A-to-Z order, and far from exhaustive, some of my favorite astute observers, dedicated archivists, discerning tastemakers, and prolific sharers include:

—Black Film Archive by Maya S. Cade, who has built “a living register” of Black films made from 1915 to 1979. Similar in spirit to Time Sensitive, Cade’s project preserves and pulls works from the past into the present with a great sense of devotion, purpose, and care
—Dining Out, a joyful ode to eating and drinking by my London-based friend Lauren O’Neill
—Dirt and its various offshoots on books, design, and, most recently, tennis
—Extracurricular by Tembe Denton-Hurst, whose reading reflections I turn to for what books to pick up next
—Feed Me by Emily Sundberg, a must-read for smart, well-sourced NYC-centric gossip, tips, and intel
—How to Cure a Ghost by Fariha Róisín, a writer who moves through the world with true integrity, honesty, and clarity
—I Heart It by Maya Man, a genius whose art explores online performance and how we relate to the internet (start with “Notes on Notes” and “A Realistic Day In My Life Living In New York City”)
—Internet Princess by Rayne Fisher-Quann (I often return to her conversation with Tavi Gevinson on zine culture and the anxiety of online immediacy)
—Offerings by Jessica Dore, who offers a space to consider grief and loss through the lens of tarot, psychology, mythology, and folk stories
—Opulent Tips, the “invitation-only” newsletter by the singular fashion critic Rachel Tashjian, my former colleague at Vanity Fair whose work, in whatever form it takes, continues to wow me
—Phoebe Lovatt’s Public Library: I’ve followed Phoebe’s work for years, and always value her perspective on culture, literature, and modern life
—The Pleasure Lists by The Slowdown’s very own contributing editor Dalya Benor (don’t miss Spencer’s list, on his love of Noguchi, mountains, and cooking)
—Thank You, OK by Katie Merchant, my go-to connoisseur of seasonal desserts and sartorial delights
—Tone Glow, showcasing the best in experimental music and film, by Joshua Minsoo Kim
—Welcome to Hell World by Luke O’Neil, who turns a bright, fearless eye to the darkness of our world and makes me feel less alone, more hopeful, and energized

Any favorite podcasts?
Many! I’m a mood-dependent listener. I often like to have something fizzy and pop-culture-y on as I move through my day; if there’s palpable co-host chemistry, consider me subscribed. Keep It!, hosted by Louis Virtel, previously alongside Ira Madison III; comedians Jacqueline Novak and Kate Berlant’s self-titled show (f.k.a. Poog); Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s How Long Gone; Niko Stratis and Alex Steed’s The O.C. rewatch show; Tynan Sinks & Sable Yong’s scent-centric podcast, Smell Ya Later; Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang’s outrageously fun Las Culturistas; Hunter Harris and Peyton Dix’s Lemme Say This; and Cannonball, with the ever-brilliant Wesley Morris (I recommend his recent episode with Samin Nosrat on The Bear) all come to mind.

On the weekends, I’ll take a long walk and listen closely to Talk Easy with Sam Fragoso, old Longform episodes with nonfiction writers I admire, Bella Freud’s Fashion Neurosis, and one of my newest favorites, Solid Air, from self-described “professional music fan” Derrick Gee.

Long before starting at The Slowdown, I was also, unsurprisingly, a devoted Time Sensitive listener. I love the countless pearls of wisdom tucked away in these unhurried conversations. Take writer Siri Hustvedt (Ep. 54), who, on embracing ambiguity, says, “I have no interest, at all, for what I already easily understand. I can just toss that out the window. I’m interested in work that I want to return to again and again because I do not understand it. I haven’t made my way all around it.” Same here, Siri.

What are your favorite magazines?
There’s nothing I love more than living alongside my ever-growing stacks of magazines. Favorites include Apartamento and The World of Interiors, The Gentlewoman, early issues of i-D (I’m currently trying to track down the O.G. 1980s issues—those covers!) and Paper magazine (co-founded by Kim Hastreiter, the guest on Ep. 18 of Time Sensitive), Vestoj, Polyester, The Paris Review, The Whitney Review of New Writing, and The Cleveland Review of Books. I enjoy discovering super-specific titles about a world I’m fascinated by, like The Surfer’s Journal. I always want to support the next generation of indie magazine makers, like Enzo the Magazine (I profiled their editors for i-D a few years back) or Dagny Tepper’s shapeshifting print project, Pilot.

What book or books are you currently reading?
Essayist and cultural critic Philippa Snow’s Snow Business—the latest pocket-size offering from the publisher Isolarii, which I’ve subscribed to since its early days. Her interests here range from Paul Verhoeven’s Benedetta and the films of the late David Lynch to Sex and the City and The Simple Life. Also, Punk Avenue: The New York City Underground 1972–1982, an autobiography from Paris-born Phil Marcade, chronicling his first decade in the U.S., with a preface by Debbie Harry.

Any guilty pleasures?
I’m always on the lookout for small, satisfying pleasures, no guilt necessary: an after-dinner affogato, say; or basking in the sun, sprawled on a blanket at the park, with 20 pages of a book left to savor; or spontaneous, collective applause at the end of a really good movie (most recently, Alice Wu’s 2004 film Saving Face, shown at the Brooklyn Academy of Music).