real rhapsody in blue

A quirky phenomenon that scientists once dismissed could help explain
the creativity of the human brain

By Anne Underwood
NEWSWEEK

Dec. 1 issue — As a child, Julian Asher had a theory about the
symphony concerts he attended with his parents. “I thought they turned
down the lights so you could see the colors better,” he says,
describing the “Fantasia”-like scenes that danced before his eyes.
Asher wasn’t hallucinating. He’s a synesthete—a rare person for whom
one type of sensory input (such as hearing music) evokes an additional
one (such as seeing colors). In Asher’s ever-shifting vision, violins
appear as a rich burgundy, pianos a deep royal purple and cellos “the
mellow gold of liquid honey.”

IT WASN’T UNTIL Asher began studying neuroscience at Harvard
six years ago that he learned there was a name for this
phenomenon—synesthesia, from the Greek roots syn (together) and
aesthesis (perception). Almost any two senses can be combined. Sights
can have sounds, sounds can have tastes and, more commonly,
black-and-white numbers and letters can appear colored. For Patricia
Lynne Duffy, author of “Blue Cats and Chartreuse Kittens,” five plus
two equals green: her color for seven. Sound crazy? For most of the
last century, scientists dismissed synesthesia as the product of
overactive imaginations. But in recent years they’ve done an abrupt
about-face, not only using modern technology to show that it’s real but
also studying it for clues to the brain’s creativity. “Synesthesia is
not a mere curiosity,” says retired neurologist Richard Cytowic, who
helped spur the current interest. “It’s a window into an enormous
expanse of the mind.”
Scientists have devised ingenious tests to prove that
synesthetes didn’t simply invent their unusual associations. In a 2001
study, Dr. V. S. Ramachandran and Edward Hubbard of the University of
California, San Diego, showed volunteers a display of black-and-white
digital 2s hidden among 5s (illustration). Most people took several
seconds to find all the 2s. To synesthetes, they popped out immediately
in contrasting colors. “This proves that it’s a real perceptual
phenomenon,” says Ramachandran. Brain scans are confirming the
findings. At a Society for Neuroscience meeting in New Orleans two
weeks ago, Colin Blakemore and Megan Steven of Oxford University showed
that a key color-processing region of the brain really is being
activated in one synesthete who says he sees colors when he hears
certain words. “What makes this interesting is that he’s been blind for
10 years,” says Steven.
Why do people develop synesthesia? The truth is that no one
knows. But scientists at Rockefeller and Cambridge universities are
hunting for genes that may help unravel the mystery. Synesthetes may
have unusually dense connections between sensory regions of the brain
(the most common forms of synesthesia involve adjacent brain areas)—or
perhaps their brains activate connections that are usually inhibited.
Similar connections must exist in most of us. How else can we explain
the temporary synesthesia that people experience on hallucinogenic
drugs like LSD? “People don’t suddenly grow new neural connections in
half an hour,” says Peter Grossenbacher, head of the Consciousness
Laboratory at Naropa University in Boulder, Colo.
The implications are dramatic. It is possible that most of us
not only have these connections but use them regularly, although at
such a low level that we don’t realize it consciously. After all, we
describe subzero weather as “bitter” cold, while a taste like cheddar
cheese may be “sharp” and a color like hot pink “loud.” “Maybe
metaphor, abstract thought and synesthesia all have a similar neural
basis,” says Ramachandran. Clearly, synesthesia is related to
creativity. A new survey by Grossenbacher found that out of 84
synesthetes, 26 were professional artists, writers or musicians, and
44, serious amateurs. “Synesthesia for them is part and parcel of what
ends up being a more expressive life,” he says.
For artist Carol Steen, who paints the music she sees, it’s
also answered more prosaic questions, like: which type of recording
produces richer sound—CD or vinyl? “Vinyl,” she says. “The colors are
more beautiful, as if someone gave them an extra shine.” End of
debate—the eyes have it.