"First they moved! Then they talked! Now they smell!"

A rich and substantial archive of Hans A. Laube, the Swiss-born “World-famous osmologist” and his ill-fated concept of “Smell-O-Vision.” The centerpiece of the archive consists of approximately 380 pages of Laube’s notes and drawings, created between April and July of 1955, related to the development of his odoriferous technology.

In their 2006 book “Oops: 20 Life Lessons from Fiascoes that Shaped America,” authors Martin Smith and Peter Kiger lay out the process:

“The core of Laube’s device was his “smell brain”—an assortment of perfume containers linked in a belt, which in turn was wound around a motorized supply reel. As the movie footage began to roll, markers on it cued the brain. The containers, apparently arranged in the order that the scents would be used in the film, whirred into position. At the right moment, needles pierced membranes on the bottom of the appropriate container and drew off perfume. Electric fans mixed the perfume with air, which was then pumped through a mile’s worth of tubing that stretched to vents under each seat in the theater. At the end of the movie, the belt was rewound and the containers refilled.”

Laube’s first olfactive-cinematic endeavor was a 35-minute film titled “Mein Traum” (“My Dream”), named after a popular fragrance of the time. This “Odorated Talking Picture,” as it was first called, premiered in Bern, Switzerland, in 1939 and the next year in New York at the World’s Fair, by then known as “Scentovision.” Using pipes connected to individual seats in theaters, the audience was treated to whiffs of flowers, honey, tar, coconut and smoked meats, the levels of which were controlled by the projectionist. Included in the archive is a Swiss promotional packet for the “Odorated Talking Picture,” which notes that “the invention was quietly developed to such a high level of technical perfection that the fragrant film will soon find its way into the film industry and thus into the public.”

Laube returned to Switzerland in 1946, unable to secure funding for his contraption. However, he returned to the United States in 1955 and, with financing from the Stanley Warner Corporation, set up a working model of his system at the Cinerama-Warner Theatre in New York to show a fifteen-minute film, “The Language of Nature.” Developed in the early 1950s, Cinerama was a widescreen process that projected images simultaneously from three synchronized 35mm projectors onto a huge, deeply curved screen.

Included in the archive is a copy of the five-page script used for this demonstration. The script’s text boldly posits Laube’s invention alongside film’s great technical milestones (sound, 3D, etc.), and that, when released to the public, “the world will be excited again” because Smell-O-Vision “transforms the theatre into a living scene” by creating a “natural atmosphere…which could never be reproduced by picture, color or sound.”

There is also a two-page typed document titled, “Scentovision Demonstration Briefing,” laying out specs for the theatre and the film, a two-page document of “Suggestions for the Permanent Installation and Showing of Scentovision in the Cinerama Theatre,” a short “Orientation on the Basic Uses of Smellovision” and two pages related to the scents created by the device.

In 1959. Laube partnered with producer Mike Todd Jr. to release “The Scent of Mystery,” the first (and only) major motion picture using Scentovision. One caveat was that the name of the device be changed to “Smell-O-Vision.” When later asked why they didn’t change the name to something more dignified, Todd replied, “I don’t understand how you can be ‘dignified’ about a process that introduces smells into a theater.

A European-set, light-hearted affair starring Peter Lorre, smell is an integral part of the film’s plot (the killer is identified by the scent of his pipe tobacco). The film was a critical and commercial flop and quickly became fodder for comedians like Henry Youngman who quipped “I didn’t understand the film—I had a cold.” And a price tag of a quarter million dollars to install, Smell-O-Vision was a flop as well.

Included in the archive is a “Scent of Mystery” promotional booklet and bit of tense correspondence between Todd and Laube, including a revised contract wherein Todd admonishes Laube for his failure to keep the project on time and on budget.

After the failure of Smell-O-Vision, Laube tooled around with a product called Bestair, “electronic room fragrancer and deodorizer,” which never made it to market. Present material related to Bestair includes drawings and photographs, a cardboard stand-up advertisement, and a few letters and contracts. One interesting letter, from an unsatisfied distributer, speaks to Bestair’s inability to live up to the first half of its name.

Other material in the archive includes notes and receipts for a wide-variety of scents purchased from various fragrance corporations, numerous business cards, correspondence, and some other photography.

Though written off as simply a mid-century novelty, there has been renewed interest in Laube and Smell-O-Vision in recent years, primarily related to the VR sector.