what is petrichor?

Emma Riva

“Petrichor” is the earthy smell in the air right after it rains. In Pittsburgh, where the smell of petrichor frequently hangs in the air, we give directions based on what used to be places. My first home in the city was “over by where Poli’s used to be.” Poli’s, the seafood restaurant known for its golden lobster handles, no longer exists, but its memory is a marker.

Petrichor is the lingering, leftover smell of a downpour. It’s a word for the beauty of how memory shows up in the present moment. This smell represented something fundamental about Pittsburgh to me. It’s also the name of the purple and gold hexagon in the top right corner of the above photo, a beautiful work of glass by Smoking Joe Perry that I purchased when I decided to start this magazine. This magazine, Petrichor, is not just about memories. It’s about the present, here, now. We’re going to feature glitz and grit, glamor and grime, galleries and gutters, all together under the bridges, rivers, and mountains that make up our city. Beyond lofty metaphors, Petrichor is just an art magazine to highlight some of the creative work going on in Pittsburgh and start conversations about it.

Sometimes we’ll branch beyond that, since anyone who knows me can tell you that I have a weird way of just knowing people everywhere. You’ll hear from me, Emma Riva, frequently, as well as a host of other contributors. We have some exciting stuff in the works. We’ll get weird. We’ll have fun. We’ll probably say something stupid, and hopefully say something smart to make up for it. This city is a great place to be creative. I can’t pretend that I speak for every single Pittsburgh artist. No publication can. But Petrichor is here to spark conversations and keep it real.

If you want to write for us—send an email. I want to hear from you. Here are some questions:

What artwork fills you with passion and drive when you see it?

What artwork pisses you off?

What should people know about in the city that they don’t? What’s getting ignored?

Why make art in Pittsburgh, anyway? Why make art at all?

Thank you for being along for the ride with me.