Villa Kerylos, situated between Nice and Monaco at Beaulieu-Sur-Mer, France, is the recreation of a noble dwelling from the 2nd century B.C on the Greek sacred island of Delos, which is now open to visitors. "Kerylos" literally means halcyon or Kingfisher (a bird bringing a good omen) in Greek. The concept was envisioned by Théodore Reinach (1860-1928), a scholar and well known Hellenist, who built the villa in France as a token of admiration to the Hellenic way of life. It was designed by the Italian architect Emmanuel Pontremoli.
The design of Villa Kerylos follows a classic Mediterranean scheme which involves a central courtyard or περίστυλον (much like the palaces in Minoan Crete) surrounded by a garden with a selection of plants found in Greece including olive, carob and pine trees, cypresses, irises and myrtle; they waft their scented trail around to the enchantment of year-long visitors.
The central courtyard was customary in every ancient Greek dwelling: the focal point where air and light circulated freely, with a water basin in the center. All around, the walls are filled with frescoes depicting mythological scenes and shell designs, following the iconography of ancient temples and houses. The inside is completely furnished and decorate to reflect the way of life of another time, like a portal to island and land abodes of ancient Greece.
In the following clips you too can have a virtual touring of this fascinating place and let your mind travel to a summery destination. One of the perfumes which tries to capture the ambience of the fragrant garden at Kerylos is Jardin de Kérylos (16) by Parfumerie Generale (from the founder perfumer Pierre Guillaume), a dry and fresh fig accented by sycamore and woods, emphasizing the bright and fruity aspects instead of the milky, which transports us to another time.
Clips originally uploaded by cltcmoamoano and indiavideo and fnac (Copyright : EXTRUD / Culturespaces) on youtube
.jpg)
Showing posts with label Travel Memoirs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel Memoirs. Show all posts
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Grasse-hoppers part2: tour highlights & raw materials draw!
Reflecting upon Grasse and the Côte d'Azur I find myself in an embarrassment of riches: Is it the Notre-Dame-de-Puy cathedral with its paintings by Rubens that I retain most dearly in my heart or the sweeping hill-top view to La Plaine des Roses where hundreds of roses are attentively cultivated for their precious nectar? Or is the afternoon sunshine that poored through the windows of our dilapidated old building, one among the many in the old town, making the ochre and Venetian-sienna-shaded walls come alive four hundred years after the original stones had been lain? The quaint, small region of Grasse, awash with both aromata of fine perfumery and diesel fumes of the traffic of the greater area, as well as the larger town of Cannes, are like two faded princesses retaining their past memories hidden into the corners of dusty rooms where old, yellowed letters of paramours were carefully tucked away in secret drawers.
Semi-rural but devoid of a matching atmosphere, Grasse especially is less romantic than anticipated, yet for the eternal student of both perfumery and culture it poses its own special challenges that seem none the less rewarding. Delving into the perfumery firms and factories through trusted connections is the best lesson of them all and I am glad I am able to offer an unprecedented gift for our readers: A Sampler of Raw Materials procured in the Grasse area for one lucky reader who will state their interest in the comments. Thus, we’re giving everyone a chance for pedagogical familiarization with the inner workings of fine perfumery. I trust you will appreciate the novelty of the offer!
But to revert to mapping out the rich experiences that the Riviera holds, one is at a loss on what to enumerate. Grasse holds a privileged spot, a few kilometers north of Pégomas, past Aurbeau-sur-Siagne and only a 20-minute ride from Cannes. The production of leather goods during the Renaissance took place principally in Montpellier, a town famous for its tanneries, which was closely rivaling Grasse. However it was only the later that rose to perfumery through the habit of scenting gloves and leather goods with floral essences from the abundant-producing area so as to dissipate the strong, pungent smells of the hides. Although initially Catherine de Medici, proud of her hands and a fan of leather gloves to protect them, ordered products from local artisans, it was Marie de Médicis (1575-1642), queen consort, who ~lured by perfumes from Cyprus, the famous chyprés~ sent for her Florentine perfumer Tombarelli to come to Grasse, where the flowers were renowned, instructing him to capture their ambience in perfumed essences. It was thus that Grasse knew a rebirth in economical terms and became The Perfume Capital ever since the 18th century thanks to the mild climate and the protected, sheltered embrace of the hills around.
The mimosa which garlands the area in late winter and early spring is perhaps the most famous of the local flora, imported originally by Captain James Cook from Australia and soon a favourite with the British aristocracy for their villas at Cannes. Queen Victoria herself used to sojourn at the Grande Hotel Grasse, a beautiful white building that is now referred to as Palais Provençal. Jasmine, a key ingredient of many perfumes and famously the culprit in the conception of Chanel No.5 by Ernest Beaux, was brought to the South of France by the Moors in the 16th century. Even though reputation has it that several tons of jasmine are harvested in the area still, the vines were not in bloom yet and even so the notorious Grasse jasmine is used in minute quantities in only the extraits of some prestigious perfumes. The 1860 construction of the Siagne canal for irrigation purposes is aiding the preservation of both these and (the very sparse) tuberoses fields. Wild lavender, as well as tamer varieties, grow around the area; hand-harvested selectively and distilled producing an exceptional aromatic oil. The town is awash with local aromata of various origins: In the lively market at La Place aux Herbes, Provençal herbs (rosemary, thyme, estragon), carrots and lettuces are sold by the kilo, tempting you into buying a little of each. Even the very area code of Grasse, 06130, has found its way into the name of a niche perfume brand, parfums Zero Six Cent Trente by local enterpreuneur Nicolas Chabert.
Nevertheless, today oils and essences for both fragrancing & flavouring come from around the world finding their way into Grasse and not one but four establishments dedicated to perfume touring grace its streets: The International Museum of Perfume and the parfumeries de Fragonard (with its own small museum), Molinard and Galimard. Besides those, there are factories of Mane, Robertet and Firmenich which operate producing their own products.
VISIT HIGHLIGHTS & GUIDE
Musée International de la Parfumerie
(International Museum of Perfumery) is located at 2 Boulevard du Jeu de Ballon, 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 8020
info@museesdegrasse.com (Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct-May: 10a-12:30p, 2p-5:30p W-M.)
Reopened in 2008 (it was originally inaugaurated in 1989), with a futuristic interior designer by Frédéric Jung, the Museum encompasses a large area that is best savoured slowly. The “scented” video screening is the most tourist-attracting but it is the presentation of plants used in the perfume industry which presents the most interest. Roaming amidst the exhibits that included thousands of pieces of scented memorabilia and beautiful bottles in every material imaginable, we’re struck by the travelling grooming essentials of fated Marie-Antoinette or the Japanese Koh-Do ritual utensils (Koh-Do is an ancient Eastern game involving smoking incense being passed to the participants)
Fragonard Parfumeur
BP 22060 1er Etage de l'Usine Historique
20 boulevard Fragonard 06132 Grasse
Phone : +33 (0)4 92 42 34 34
Email : fragonard@fragonard.com
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
Molinard perfumery
60, boulevard Victor Hugo, 06130 Grasse
Tel: +33 4 9336 0162
Email: tourisme@molinard.com,france@molinard.com
Visiting hours: Oct-May: 9a-12:30p, 2p-6p M-Su, Jun-Sep: 9a-6:30p M-Su.
Parfumerie Galimard
73 route de Cannes - 06131 Grasse
Tél : 04.93.09.20.00 Fax : 04.93.70.36.22
International: Tél : +33.4.93.09.20.00 Fax : +33.4.93.70.36.22
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
The Fragonard, Galimard and Molinard perfume factories offer free guided tours with multi-lingual options (including Russian and Japanese) while lush, floral scents fill the atmosphere with their delicious aroma. One is invited to watch part of the production and packaging process of the eaux de toilette, perfumes and surprisingly refined soaps first-hand, while the old perfumery equipment and several collectible bottles are also on display. The gift shops are awash with products at advantageous prices, if only a little pushy sales assistants, as is customary into tourist places. The Fragonard perfumery was founded by Eugene Fuchs paying tribute to local artists family, the Fragonards. Today the remains of the old factory are visited, while the production area has been transplated outside the city.
Molinard worked with Baccarat and René Lalique who widely contributed to the House's reputation with sober and elegant scent bottles for their first "soliflores" perfumes (jasmine, rose, violet). But in 1930 René Lalique created exclusive flacon designs for the House of Molinard and this saw the conception of the prestigious bottles such as "Iles d’Or", "Madrigal", or "Le baiser du Faune". Yet say Molinard and everyone recalls their exceptional tobacco oriental "Habanita", meaning "little girl of Havana".
Parfumerie Galimard on the other hand was founded by Jean de Galimard, Lord of Seranon, (a relation of Count de Thorenc and friend of Goethe), in 1747. Founder of the corporation of "Maitres Parfumeurs et Gantiers” (Glovemakers and Perfumers), he supplied the court of Louis " the well-beloved ", King of France, with olive oil, pomades, and perfumes of which he invented the first formulae. Their products still retain a charming rural air.
La Villa-Musée Jean-Honoré Fragonard
23 boulevard Fragonard 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 0161/+33 4 9705 5800
Email: info@museesdegrasse.com
Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct & Dec-May: 10a -12.30p, 2p-5.30p W-M
A villa turned into a museum, not to be confused with the Fragonard perfumery, this charming place buried amidst tall palm trees pays homage to three generations of Fragonards: Jean-Honoré, the father; his sister-in-law Marguerite Gérard; his son Alexandre-Évarisre; and grandson Théophile. The most famous, painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) ~whom you surely know through The Swing and Young Girl Reading~ is omnipresent through a copy of his work The Progress of Love originally rejected by the Duchess du Barry and now residing in New York City. The style of his paintings, French, elegant and erotic, is well transported into the Fragonard perfumes and scented goods as well, all lively and bursting with joie de vivre!
Robertet essences producing company
Established in 1850, Robertet counts itself among the oldest perfumeries in Grasse, but their creations are thoroughly modern as well, having created scents for Gucci, Bond No.9 and L’Oreal. Still, it is their high-quality raw materials which made them the stuff of legend among perfume cognoscenti. Earthy treemoss, iris rootlets, animalic beeswax, vanilla from Madagascar orchids, Amazonian tonka beans, champaca from India, and maté from Brazil produce an intoxicating blend of earthly delights enough to make the head spin. The refining process which happens repeatedly until the finest grade of raw material is attainable (especially when rendering absolute oils out of waxy concretes off precious flowers such as jasmine) can be customized to the client. It is here that the fractionizing of certain oils happens, such as patchouli where some of the headier more hippie-like facets are subtracted; thus the perfumer can custom the essence to their needs (For instance they might want more of the naturally chocolate-reminiscent facets emphasized or the more camphoraceous ones and so on). Among the loveliest of the raw materials here is the iris absolute: Initially herbaceous and almost medicinal, heavy and full of the earthy accent of the soil, it soon attains a woody and powdery prolonged skin-like effect. Roots can be left unpeeled to produce “iris noir” or they can be peeled to make a pale-shaded concrete (waxy substance) which is then refined through solvents into the absolute oil.
I was surprised to learn that iris is currently customarily paired with red berries; not only in perfumery such as in Insolence by Guerlain but also in the flavouring business, as it enhances and prolongs the tang of the berries! Even though originally perfumery iris best grade came from Florence, Italy, a variety known as Iris pallida, today different species come from Morocco and China (much like jasmine does) with shorter maturation periods lowering down the production cost. The original Italian iris needed a long careful harvesting of the rootlets, a drying out phase of a fortnight followed by three year period of maturation resulting in stratosperic prices.
The Firmenich perfumery branch in Grasse
Firmenich technicians and perfumers seem to favour the CO2 extraction process, also referred to as "supercritical fluid extraction" process; technologically speaking the most advanced method of oil production of them all, resulting in stunningly realistic essences such as pepper, heady tuberose or earthy carrot seeds. Carbon dioxide usually behaves as a gas or as a solid called "dry ice" when frozen. When the temperature and pressure are both increased, the material takes new properties behaving as a "supercritical fluid" ~above its critical temperature (31.1 °C) and critical pressure (72.9 atm/7.39 MPa)~ expanding to fill its container like a gas but with a density like that of a liquid. Supercritical CO2 is used as a perfect solvent due to its role in chemical extraction in addition to its low toxicity and environmental impact, but in what concerns perfumery it's the relatively low temperature of the process and the stability of CO2 which allows most compounds to be extracted with little damage or denaturing.
The white-coat lab technicians work silently for an array of products including detergents and cosmetics scents, while on the second floor where the fine perfumery is located people write up formulae up in their computer for the printed data to be given to laboratory assistants for the blending, before perfumers step in to evaluate and adjust. It’s a fascinating process, not to be missed if you have any sort of access!
For our readers, a sampler set of precious raw materials of fine perfumery is offered for a draw! Please leave a comment if you wish to enter. Submissions are open till Monday 3rd May 9pm.
Related reading: Read the rest of the Perfume Pilgrimage to the Riviera in part 1.
Semi-rural but devoid of a matching atmosphere, Grasse especially is less romantic than anticipated, yet for the eternal student of both perfumery and culture it poses its own special challenges that seem none the less rewarding. Delving into the perfumery firms and factories through trusted connections is the best lesson of them all and I am glad I am able to offer an unprecedented gift for our readers: A Sampler of Raw Materials procured in the Grasse area for one lucky reader who will state their interest in the comments. Thus, we’re giving everyone a chance for pedagogical familiarization with the inner workings of fine perfumery. I trust you will appreciate the novelty of the offer! |
| photo by Elena Vosnaki |
The mimosa which garlands the area in late winter and early spring is perhaps the most famous of the local flora, imported originally by Captain James Cook from Australia and soon a favourite with the British aristocracy for their villas at Cannes. Queen Victoria herself used to sojourn at the Grande Hotel Grasse, a beautiful white building that is now referred to as Palais Provençal. Jasmine, a key ingredient of many perfumes and famously the culprit in the conception of Chanel No.5 by Ernest Beaux, was brought to the South of France by the Moors in the 16th century. Even though reputation has it that several tons of jasmine are harvested in the area still, the vines were not in bloom yet and even so the notorious Grasse jasmine is used in minute quantities in only the extraits of some prestigious perfumes. The 1860 construction of the Siagne canal for irrigation purposes is aiding the preservation of both these and (the very sparse) tuberoses fields. Wild lavender, as well as tamer varieties, grow around the area; hand-harvested selectively and distilled producing an exceptional aromatic oil. The town is awash with local aromata of various origins: In the lively market at La Place aux Herbes, Provençal herbs (rosemary, thyme, estragon), carrots and lettuces are sold by the kilo, tempting you into buying a little of each. Even the very area code of Grasse, 06130, has found its way into the name of a niche perfume brand, parfums Zero Six Cent Trente by local enterpreuneur Nicolas Chabert.
 |
| photo by Elena Vosnaki |
VISIT HIGHLIGHTS & GUIDE
info@museesdegrasse.com (Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct-May: 10a-12:30p, 2p-5:30p W-M.)
Reopened in 2008 (it was originally inaugaurated in 1989), with a futuristic interior designer by Frédéric Jung, the Museum encompasses a large area that is best savoured slowly. The “scented” video screening is the most tourist-attracting but it is the presentation of plants used in the perfume industry which presents the most interest. Roaming amidst the exhibits that included thousands of pieces of scented memorabilia and beautiful bottles in every material imaginable, we’re struck by the travelling grooming essentials of fated Marie-Antoinette or the Japanese Koh-Do ritual utensils (Koh-Do is an ancient Eastern game involving smoking incense being passed to the participants)
BP 22060 1er Etage de l'Usine Historique
20 boulevard Fragonard 06132 Grasse
Phone : +33 (0)4 92 42 34 34
Email : fragonard@fragonard.com
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
60, boulevard Victor Hugo, 06130 Grasse
Tel: +33 4 9336 0162
Email: tourisme@molinard.com,france@molinard.com
Visiting hours: Oct-May: 9a-12:30p, 2p-6p M-Su, Jun-Sep: 9a-6:30p M-Su.
73 route de Cannes - 06131 Grasse
Tél : 04.93.09.20.00 Fax : 04.93.70.36.22
International: Tél : +33.4.93.09.20.00 Fax : +33.4.93.70.36.22
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
The Fragonard, Galimard and Molinard perfume factories offer free guided tours with multi-lingual options (including Russian and Japanese) while lush, floral scents fill the atmosphere with their delicious aroma. One is invited to watch part of the production and packaging process of the eaux de toilette, perfumes and surprisingly refined soaps first-hand, while the old perfumery equipment and several collectible bottles are also on display. The gift shops are awash with products at advantageous prices, if only a little pushy sales assistants, as is customary into tourist places. The Fragonard perfumery was founded by Eugene Fuchs paying tribute to local artists family, the Fragonards. Today the remains of the old factory are visited, while the production area has been transplated outside the city.
Molinard worked with Baccarat and René Lalique who widely contributed to the House's reputation with sober and elegant scent bottles for their first "soliflores" perfumes (jasmine, rose, violet). But in 1930 René Lalique created exclusive flacon designs for the House of Molinard and this saw the conception of the prestigious bottles such as "Iles d’Or", "Madrigal", or "Le baiser du Faune". Yet say Molinard and everyone recalls their exceptional tobacco oriental "Habanita", meaning "little girl of Havana".
Parfumerie Galimard on the other hand was founded by Jean de Galimard, Lord of Seranon, (a relation of Count de Thorenc and friend of Goethe), in 1747. Founder of the corporation of "Maitres Parfumeurs et Gantiers” (Glovemakers and Perfumers), he supplied the court of Louis " the well-beloved ", King of France, with olive oil, pomades, and perfumes of which he invented the first formulae. Their products still retain a charming rural air.
 |
| photo by Fragonard |
23 boulevard Fragonard 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 0161/+33 4 9705 5800
Email: info@museesdegrasse.com
Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct & Dec-May: 10a -12.30p, 2p-5.30p W-M
A villa turned into a museum, not to be confused with the Fragonard perfumery, this charming place buried amidst tall palm trees pays homage to three generations of Fragonards: Jean-Honoré, the father; his sister-in-law Marguerite Gérard; his son Alexandre-Évarisre; and grandson Théophile. The most famous, painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) ~whom you surely know through The Swing and Young Girl Reading~ is omnipresent through a copy of his work The Progress of Love originally rejected by the Duchess du Barry and now residing in New York City. The style of his paintings, French, elegant and erotic, is well transported into the Fragonard perfumes and scented goods as well, all lively and bursting with joie de vivre!
Established in 1850, Robertet counts itself among the oldest perfumeries in Grasse, but their creations are thoroughly modern as well, having created scents for Gucci, Bond No.9 and L’Oreal. Still, it is their high-quality raw materials which made them the stuff of legend among perfume cognoscenti. Earthy treemoss, iris rootlets, animalic beeswax, vanilla from Madagascar orchids, Amazonian tonka beans, champaca from India, and maté from Brazil produce an intoxicating blend of earthly delights enough to make the head spin. The refining process which happens repeatedly until the finest grade of raw material is attainable (especially when rendering absolute oils out of waxy concretes off precious flowers such as jasmine) can be customized to the client. It is here that the fractionizing of certain oils happens, such as patchouli where some of the headier more hippie-like facets are subtracted; thus the perfumer can custom the essence to their needs (For instance they might want more of the naturally chocolate-reminiscent facets emphasized or the more camphoraceous ones and so on). Among the loveliest of the raw materials here is the iris absolute: Initially herbaceous and almost medicinal, heavy and full of the earthy accent of the soil, it soon attains a woody and powdery prolonged skin-like effect. Roots can be left unpeeled to produce “iris noir” or they can be peeled to make a pale-shaded concrete (waxy substance) which is then refined through solvents into the absolute oil.
I was surprised to learn that iris is currently customarily paired with red berries; not only in perfumery such as in Insolence by Guerlain but also in the flavouring business, as it enhances and prolongs the tang of the berries! Even though originally perfumery iris best grade came from Florence, Italy, a variety known as Iris pallida, today different species come from Morocco and China (much like jasmine does) with shorter maturation periods lowering down the production cost. The original Italian iris needed a long careful harvesting of the rootlets, a drying out phase of a fortnight followed by three year period of maturation resulting in stratosperic prices.
 |
| photo by Elena Vosnaki |
Firmenich technicians and perfumers seem to favour the CO2 extraction process, also referred to as "supercritical fluid extraction" process; technologically speaking the most advanced method of oil production of them all, resulting in stunningly realistic essences such as pepper, heady tuberose or earthy carrot seeds. Carbon dioxide usually behaves as a gas or as a solid called "dry ice" when frozen. When the temperature and pressure are both increased, the material takes new properties behaving as a "supercritical fluid" ~above its critical temperature (31.1 °C) and critical pressure (72.9 atm/7.39 MPa)~ expanding to fill its container like a gas but with a density like that of a liquid. Supercritical CO2 is used as a perfect solvent due to its role in chemical extraction in addition to its low toxicity and environmental impact, but in what concerns perfumery it's the relatively low temperature of the process and the stability of CO2 which allows most compounds to be extracted with little damage or denaturing.
The white-coat lab technicians work silently for an array of products including detergents and cosmetics scents, while on the second floor where the fine perfumery is located people write up formulae up in their computer for the printed data to be given to laboratory assistants for the blending, before perfumers step in to evaluate and adjust. It’s a fascinating process, not to be missed if you have any sort of access!
For our readers, a sampler set of precious raw materials of fine perfumery is offered for a draw! Please leave a comment if you wish to enter. Submissions are open till Monday 3rd May 9pm.
Related reading: Read the rest of the Perfume Pilgrimage to the Riviera in part 1.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Perfumed Pilgrimage: Grasse-hoppers part1
Discovering the secret charms of the Riviera, never more attractive than during the fall of the last cool days into rampant warm spring, is akin to a pilgrimage to some scented god shrine. The Parisian sidewalks might well be heaving under the weight of fragrant offerings by posh and less posh boutiques, but nothing beats the sheer thrill of nature red in tooth and claw. Trailing the small towns and villages that spot the map of the Côte d'Azur and beyond in the throes of spring is an experience that everyone interested in fragrance and beauty should indulge in.
The medieval houses amidst the flowering vines reflect the shades of the sunset ~ochre, vermillon and purple~ and gracefully contrast with the deep azure of the Mediterranean sea which brings on its own special aromatic blend of iodine, salty spray and maritime pines to the places that are wetted by its waters.
Even though it's preferable to veer off the beaten track, especially where hordes of tourists litter the paysage with their visually jarring presence, one can't escape following a time-honoured path, that of the Route de Mimosa (known as The Mimosa Road), an inter-village mimosa-celebrating trail of 130km/80miles of drive-and-stop-along-the-sights, crossing 8 famous stopover cities, starting from fittingly named Bormes-les-Mimosas through Le Rayol-Canadel, Sainte Maxime, Saint Raphaël, Mandelieu la Napoule, Tanneron, Pégomas and Grasse, with a side-tour of Cannes. Until the first days of April, literally millions of downy flowers fragrance the hills and valleys of this region, rendering it a golden feast for both eyes and nose; the sugar-spun scent of mimosa (an acacia species), persistent and entracing, mixed with the tannic aroma of cork oaks and dry Provençal herbs. It's hard to resist thinking how magnificent a ready-made perfume composed of exactly those aromata would be!
The blooming town of Bormes-les-Mimosas at the arms of the Maures mountains, is slumbering and small, as befitting something out of a Flaubert story of provincial doctors and their bored housewives searching for that transporting romance to no avail.
Missing as we did the festivities of January and February (according to our tour leaflet, available at every port of call), the main attraction was the Pépinières Cavatore, a surprisingly quaint nursery bursting under the variety of mimosa plants grown: Over a hundred varieties make for an embarassement of riches, whetting our appetite for more. The answer seems to be Les Jardins du Domaine du Rayol, situated in Rayol-Canadel-sur-Mer, offering a unique vista from the ravined mountain terrain down to the Var coastline, connecting the gardens with the beach via the monumental Pateck staircase following the Art Nouveau style of decoration of the 1920s, leading up to Le Rocher du Drapeau (Flag Rock). Unfortunately, today only the central part of the stairs remains intact. Local lore wants the steps to be the connector between Heaven and Hell and if the swarms of tourists are anything to go by it can certainly ring true to my ears! But, slightly detached as I am most of the time, I still managed to rub the leaves of the vine garlanding the pergola between finger and thumb, to leave a fragrant imprint of this magnificent spot in my mind.
But the garden delights never end: Sainte Maxime boasts its own Jardin des Myrtes, with a lovely three-star hotel tucked in that little pocket of land (Parc des Myrtes, 83120 Ste-Maxime, France). In Greek mythology myrtle is sacred. Pausanias explains that one of the Graces in the sanctuary at Elis holds a myrtle branch because “the rose and the myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite and connected with the story of Adonis (Aphrodite's lover), while the Graces are of all deities the nearest related to Aphrodite.” At the Roman festivity of Veneralia, women bathed wearing crowns woven of myrtle branches, the plant also participating in wedding rituals. Throughout the Mediterranean, myrtle symbolises love and immortality. A local tavern (with an owner of Corsican extraction) after a hearty meal of coq au vin and snails in onion and tomato sauce treated us to mirto rosso fino, a digestive liqueur made of myrtle, its bittersweet taste redolent of the aromatic heart of this ever-present plant.
Loquat trees, present in several yards, are also burdening under the weight of the fruits, already gleaming even under the slightly overcast skies. And of course the sweet smell of lilac coinciding with Easter, evoking its Greek name: Paschalia (pa-scha-leeA).
The very idea of medieval gardens was pleasuring all five senses, like the Persian paradeisos a cloistered alcove of erthy delights. [Roman de la Rose de Guillaume de Lorris (13th century) and le Dit du vergier by Guillaume de Machaut (15th century)] These gardens often included a viridarium (the Roman pleasure garden), a pomarium (orchard) and a herbarium; the latter taking the form of a jardin de plantes médicinales (medicinal plants garden) or more affectionately called le jardin secret (hortus conclusus), a secret garden. The mostly Arab-derived concept came through Toledo and Seville, Spain and on to Montpellier, France. Italian style gardens's elements ("humanist"-called, because there is no seperation between artificial garden and environment) also enter the scene through the glorification of a theatrical mise-en-scène.
Luckily for us Le Corniche d’Or (Golden Ledge) coastal road, which runs between St.Raphaël and Cannes, with the Roman coastal town of Fréjus on the west, was quieter and breathtaking, the road dipping between rocks, literally "licking" the sea and its deserted beaches. The volcanic scenery with the rocky inlets of Le Trayas made me think of the rough mountaineous solace of Grenouille as depicted in the film Perfume, Story of a Murderer (never mind the film was actually shot in Spain): Can an abundance of stimuli become too much, too exerting on one's own system, so that the only refuge would be a red cove under the cool shade? The feeling of being far removed from everything fills one's soul, nostrils aflare to catch the painfully precious air of solitude. And how can the porphyric lava, much like in the island of Santorini in Greece, can account for such a fertile, yielding soil?
Mandelieu-la-Napoule, termed the mimosa-capital is the beginning of the way to the Massif de Tanneron, where early spring has the slopes covered into a forest of yellow pom-poms. The area, not coincidentally, comprises the largest mimosa forest in Europe. So prevalent is the mimosa in this area that in Pégomas we are informed that there is a Miss Mimosa pageant at the end of January! If one has time, the small resorts of Anthéor, Agay and Boulouris are also worthwhile visits which we reserve for next time. The bigaradiers, full of orange blossoms that are shedding petals like a carnival parade throwing confetti at the gentlest gust of the wind, aromatize the air as we pass, the refreshing, joyous smell a welcoming salutation for weary wanderers. The picturesque village of Tanneron seems like some fairy godmother has magically placed it on top of the hills, hanging there till the end of days, comprised of humble-looking hamlets for the most part.
In late March and April there are also plenty of wisterias, their powdery spicy scent trail perceivable several meters before the eye confirms what the nose knows. The purple grappes hang from the stems like grapes and tempting the birds that catch petals and small branches with their beaks in order to make their nests. Scattered around the perimeter are the so-called "forceries", barns or rather workshops in which nature is coaxed into calculated submission: the yet greenish branches in bud are cut and forced into the mimoseries, long troughs of steaming spring water, whereon the mimosa is thrown to encourage it to open, we're told. There seems no need to speak of coaxing when the mimosa season is almost over, yet the very idea of producing flowers that will end up being sold at the big flower markets of Nice. The preservation of the flowers so they don't wilt in the interim is a work that requires a lot of attention and specialized techniques. One of them, which I was surprised to learn and am sharing with you now, is crushing a baby aspirin in a glass of water and adding it to the water of the flower vases!
To be continued in Part 2
Pics by Elena Vosnaki, Black & White Le Nu Provençal, Gordes (1949) by Willy Ronis
The medieval houses amidst the flowering vines reflect the shades of the sunset ~ochre, vermillon and purple~ and gracefully contrast with the deep azure of the Mediterranean sea which brings on its own special aromatic blend of iodine, salty spray and maritime pines to the places that are wetted by its waters.Even though it's preferable to veer off the beaten track, especially where hordes of tourists litter the paysage with their visually jarring presence, one can't escape following a time-honoured path, that of the Route de Mimosa (known as The Mimosa Road), an inter-village mimosa-celebrating trail of 130km/80miles of drive-and-stop-along-the-sights, crossing 8 famous stopover cities, starting from fittingly named Bormes-les-Mimosas through Le Rayol-Canadel, Sainte Maxime, Saint Raphaël, Mandelieu la Napoule, Tanneron, Pégomas and Grasse, with a side-tour of Cannes. Until the first days of April, literally millions of downy flowers fragrance the hills and valleys of this region, rendering it a golden feast for both eyes and nose; the sugar-spun scent of mimosa (an acacia species), persistent and entracing, mixed with the tannic aroma of cork oaks and dry Provençal herbs. It's hard to resist thinking how magnificent a ready-made perfume composed of exactly those aromata would be!
The blooming town of Bormes-les-Mimosas at the arms of the Maures mountains, is slumbering and small, as befitting something out of a Flaubert story of provincial doctors and their bored housewives searching for that transporting romance to no avail.
Missing as we did the festivities of January and February (according to our tour leaflet, available at every port of call), the main attraction was the Pépinières Cavatore, a surprisingly quaint nursery bursting under the variety of mimosa plants grown: Over a hundred varieties make for an embarassement of riches, whetting our appetite for more. The answer seems to be Les Jardins du Domaine du Rayol, situated in Rayol-Canadel-sur-Mer, offering a unique vista from the ravined mountain terrain down to the Var coastline, connecting the gardens with the beach via the monumental Pateck staircase following the Art Nouveau style of decoration of the 1920s, leading up to Le Rocher du Drapeau (Flag Rock). Unfortunately, today only the central part of the stairs remains intact. Local lore wants the steps to be the connector between Heaven and Hell and if the swarms of tourists are anything to go by it can certainly ring true to my ears! But, slightly detached as I am most of the time, I still managed to rub the leaves of the vine garlanding the pergola between finger and thumb, to leave a fragrant imprint of this magnificent spot in my mind.
But the garden delights never end: Sainte Maxime boasts its own Jardin des Myrtes, with a lovely three-star hotel tucked in that little pocket of land (Parc des Myrtes, 83120 Ste-Maxime, France). In Greek mythology myrtle is sacred. Pausanias explains that one of the Graces in the sanctuary at Elis holds a myrtle branch because “the rose and the myrtle are sacred to Aphrodite and connected with the story of Adonis (Aphrodite's lover), while the Graces are of all deities the nearest related to Aphrodite.” At the Roman festivity of Veneralia, women bathed wearing crowns woven of myrtle branches, the plant also participating in wedding rituals. Throughout the Mediterranean, myrtle symbolises love and immortality. A local tavern (with an owner of Corsican extraction) after a hearty meal of coq au vin and snails in onion and tomato sauce treated us to mirto rosso fino, a digestive liqueur made of myrtle, its bittersweet taste redolent of the aromatic heart of this ever-present plant.
Loquat trees, present in several yards, are also burdening under the weight of the fruits, already gleaming even under the slightly overcast skies. And of course the sweet smell of lilac coinciding with Easter, evoking its Greek name: Paschalia (pa-scha-leeA).The very idea of medieval gardens was pleasuring all five senses, like the Persian paradeisos a cloistered alcove of erthy delights. [Roman de la Rose de Guillaume de Lorris (13th century) and le Dit du vergier by Guillaume de Machaut (15th century)] These gardens often included a viridarium (the Roman pleasure garden), a pomarium (orchard) and a herbarium; the latter taking the form of a jardin de plantes médicinales (medicinal plants garden) or more affectionately called le jardin secret (hortus conclusus), a secret garden. The mostly Arab-derived concept came through Toledo and Seville, Spain and on to Montpellier, France. Italian style gardens's elements ("humanist"-called, because there is no seperation between artificial garden and environment) also enter the scene through the glorification of a theatrical mise-en-scène.
Luckily for us Le Corniche d’Or (Golden Ledge) coastal road, which runs between St.Raphaël and Cannes, with the Roman coastal town of Fréjus on the west, was quieter and breathtaking, the road dipping between rocks, literally "licking" the sea and its deserted beaches. The volcanic scenery with the rocky inlets of Le Trayas made me think of the rough mountaineous solace of Grenouille as depicted in the film Perfume, Story of a Murderer (never mind the film was actually shot in Spain): Can an abundance of stimuli become too much, too exerting on one's own system, so that the only refuge would be a red cove under the cool shade? The feeling of being far removed from everything fills one's soul, nostrils aflare to catch the painfully precious air of solitude. And how can the porphyric lava, much like in the island of Santorini in Greece, can account for such a fertile, yielding soil?
Mandelieu-la-Napoule, termed the mimosa-capital is the beginning of the way to the Massif de Tanneron, where early spring has the slopes covered into a forest of yellow pom-poms. The area, not coincidentally, comprises the largest mimosa forest in Europe. So prevalent is the mimosa in this area that in Pégomas we are informed that there is a Miss Mimosa pageant at the end of January! If one has time, the small resorts of Anthéor, Agay and Boulouris are also worthwhile visits which we reserve for next time. The bigaradiers, full of orange blossoms that are shedding petals like a carnival parade throwing confetti at the gentlest gust of the wind, aromatize the air as we pass, the refreshing, joyous smell a welcoming salutation for weary wanderers. The picturesque village of Tanneron seems like some fairy godmother has magically placed it on top of the hills, hanging there till the end of days, comprised of humble-looking hamlets for the most part.
In late March and April there are also plenty of wisterias, their powdery spicy scent trail perceivable several meters before the eye confirms what the nose knows. The purple grappes hang from the stems like grapes and tempting the birds that catch petals and small branches with their beaks in order to make their nests. Scattered around the perimeter are the so-called "forceries", barns or rather workshops in which nature is coaxed into calculated submission: the yet greenish branches in bud are cut and forced into the mimoseries, long troughs of steaming spring water, whereon the mimosa is thrown to encourage it to open, we're told. There seems no need to speak of coaxing when the mimosa season is almost over, yet the very idea of producing flowers that will end up being sold at the big flower markets of Nice. The preservation of the flowers so they don't wilt in the interim is a work that requires a lot of attention and specialized techniques. One of them, which I was surprised to learn and am sharing with you now, is crushing a baby aspirin in a glass of water and adding it to the water of the flower vases!To be continued in Part 2
Pics by Elena Vosnaki, Black & White Le Nu Provençal, Gordes (1949) by Willy Ronis
Monday, August 3, 2009
Travel Memoirs: Florida the wondrous
It would not be an overstatement to claim that some of the most stupefying things in my galivanting around the globe were witnessed while in Florida, US. There was perhaps none of the weirdly exotic folklore of other cultures such as that rampant on the Indian peninsula or the Far East, yet some of them have vividly stood out in my mind nuanced with the colours, the sounds and smells of that particular corner of the world.
.jpg)
In my subconscious, aided by the romantic mythology of beatniks and the silver screen, as well as a perpetual On the Road modus vivendi (despite Jack Kerouac never having accomplished the long-route journey of his hero in reality), America was the land of constant shifting; wide, pastel Cadillacs rolling lazily and tall palms delineating the horizon in Technicolor. In many ways these images took shape and form in Florida. No matter pink flamingoes can be found as close as in Cyprus, the sight of them taking flight en masse can only be fittingly placed in pastel-tinted Florida.
Miami in particular seemed like a creature sprawled over on the sea waiting for the ripples to awaken it, its entwined avenues creating a Deadalic complex where mere pedestrians are persona non grata..jpg)
The shock of exiting the airport doors, from an atmosphere dry as a bone to humid like an Ottoman hammam, wasn't greater than that greeting us in Singapore. There, as in the whole South-East Asia, the ambience is additionally saturated with the yeasty smell of the air and the exotic spices of the Thai cuisine. Florida is without that peculiar sourbread-like note, but its humid kiss promises to stain your starched straw-hued linens very soon! Packing hydrosols and lighter colognes was a smart choice, from the cleaner Tendre Poison to the ever appropriate masculine Rochas Moustache, but I recall how the original Carolina Herrera for Women, its jasmine-tuberose embrace engulfing, was the choice which stood out most for me; its tropical whispering was seductive in the evening breeze which blew over pastel-shaded art deco buildings right out of a 50s film, while passerbys were consuming café cubano at the seaside cafés. The Cuban expatriates are shaking their bon-bon at the beach and on the sidewalk with gusto, upping the beauty quota of the pensioners' population residing in the quitetude of this long-acred shore, and infusing the humid air with their fragrances of coconut-laced suntan oil and white musk body sprays. The air carries the promise of an hedonic evening.
Our field trip took us from watching a cyclone forming in the distance, swiftly approaching our car to our panic contrasted to the relative sang froid of our driver (they're quite used to them, he intimated), to discerning a space-shuttle launch visible all the way from Cape Canaveral in the distance, through the one of the most cataclysmic rains I have ever witnessed in my life and chasing sharks in every seaquarium within driving distance! Nevertheless, rolling on the highway to Orlando, funfair and theme-park capital of the universe most probably, one can't but notice a more commercial aspect: the staggering multitude of outlets for clothes, gadgets and...perfumes. Not merely one, but three major discount perfumeries dot the International Dr (at #1, H and 3A) and several others I bet were hiding behind the gigantic eateries with "Coke size small" served bucket-size. (America the Plenty, we thought and marvelled). It was here that the sales lady assisted our tourist queries with her recommendation to me of Hermès Calèche: "very classy, very old-world" were her words, as she was exclaiming how she always got Italian tourists at her store. If only she knew just how old our weary steps all the way from the Grecian dusty soil had been in this shinning new, almost teflon environment and how much the vast variety and deeply discounted prices had bedazzled us...We left with several gifts, one for every single family member we had seen since our baptismal at the very least..jpg)
Visiting the Universal Studios is a natural pilgrimage for anyone who has ever mimicked the Bride of Frankestein's hairdo with shampoo-foam in the shower or noted down Marxist references (or male thighs, I'll give you that) in Spartacus. And amidst the languid atmosphere and the scent of excitement that jeopardising-your safety-at-the-games-but-not-really (like in the Earthquake or Jaws shows) ignites in the human soul, I couldn't help but think how much Hollywood and the big studios have contributed to the lore of perfume wearing: Don't we still marvel at The Women and the racks of perfume flacons lined in the back of the store? Don't we tick off fragrance references in Pacino's recital in Scent of a Woman? (ie. Floris cologne, the fictional Ogilvy Siters soap, Misuki, Bay Rum and Fleurs de Rocaille). Don't we secretly envision ourselves as another Myrna Loy sitting in front of a heaving with expensive crystalware vanity?
.jpg)
But none of the fictional scentathlon can rival the rich, mossy, pungent and all around compelling atmosphere of the swamps; the greatest natural park of them all, the Everglades! Risk-seeking thrill must have been running through our veins at the time: We had not only rented a mini motor-boat cruising through the immense dirty-green and full of scattered leaves & water-lillies bodies of water that hide alligators and venomous turtles, but actually held the former in our hands when visiting the nearby breeding farm. I will never forget the feel of reptilian in my palm; surprisingly soft, oscillating from buttery soft to thick-skinned along the body, yet creepily cool to my mammal touch, like dead tissue. An alien feeling exacerbated by the nearby smell of hatched crocodilian eggs and fresh prey for the mothers.
.jpg)
The ambience of The Everglades is majestic and awe-inspiring, like entering an enchanted forest where everything takes on a twisted and dangerous nuance, only it's all played out in the eternal South, cast under the bright sunlight, as opposed to the more dimly-lighted spells of Ormonde Woman. Godzilla-sized mosquitos fester the area, which accordingly necessitates industrial-strength insect-repellant: Luckily, the little handy store outside the official entrace sells that by the trackload and despite its hair-nose singeing eucalyptus and terpene notes which had me reluctant to put it on myself, it seemed to work like a charm and keep the evil pests at bay for the whole day.
.jpg)
Thankfully, the long route that diverts from the national park to the Southern-most tip of the Florida Peninsula, the Florida Keys, took our mind off the "Off "and into fun escapades à la True Lies. If only we had the endless lean thighs of Jamie Lee Curtis to show, we would have fancied similar acrobatics with the open-top car, but we kept our modesty intact and the air-conditionning on full speed. Key West is a truly tropical paradise with the heat to match it, even in the early throes of autumn, and I can see why Ernest Hemingway chose to live some of his adventurous and short life here writing about mako sharks.
Us, etternally drawn like Ulysses to their kin, magnetically recalibrated found the best Greek-owned restaurant where we died from gustatory hedonic rapture which included the most amazing and iodine-scented seafood, ending our meal with one of the most fragrant of all Americal dishes: the Key West Key Lime Pie..jpg)
Thanks to the tangier and more aromatic fruit of the Florida limes as opposed to Persian limes, the dish presents itself like a true fragrance, with citrusy and aromatic top notes titillating the palate, progressing into the buttery, egg-yolk smooth sarisfying heart and the condensed milk creaminess of its basenotes. The perfect closing of an unforgettable adventure.
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel Memoirs, Stars & Stripes: 10 Quintessentially American Fragrances
Pics via msnbcmedia4.msn.com, blacktomatoonline.co.uk, cache.virtualtourist.com, media.cdn.tripadvisor.com, tropical-impressions.net, mrmoms.org, gottaeatsweets.com
.jpg)
In my subconscious, aided by the romantic mythology of beatniks and the silver screen, as well as a perpetual On the Road modus vivendi (despite Jack Kerouac never having accomplished the long-route journey of his hero in reality), America was the land of constant shifting; wide, pastel Cadillacs rolling lazily and tall palms delineating the horizon in Technicolor. In many ways these images took shape and form in Florida. No matter pink flamingoes can be found as close as in Cyprus, the sight of them taking flight en masse can only be fittingly placed in pastel-tinted Florida.Miami in particular seemed like a creature sprawled over on the sea waiting for the ripples to awaken it, its entwined avenues creating a Deadalic complex where mere pedestrians are persona non grata.
.jpg)
The shock of exiting the airport doors, from an atmosphere dry as a bone to humid like an Ottoman hammam, wasn't greater than that greeting us in Singapore. There, as in the whole South-East Asia, the ambience is additionally saturated with the yeasty smell of the air and the exotic spices of the Thai cuisine. Florida is without that peculiar sourbread-like note, but its humid kiss promises to stain your starched straw-hued linens very soon! Packing hydrosols and lighter colognes was a smart choice, from the cleaner Tendre Poison to the ever appropriate masculine Rochas Moustache, but I recall how the original Carolina Herrera for Women, its jasmine-tuberose embrace engulfing, was the choice which stood out most for me; its tropical whispering was seductive in the evening breeze which blew over pastel-shaded art deco buildings right out of a 50s film, while passerbys were consuming café cubano at the seaside cafés. The Cuban expatriates are shaking their bon-bon at the beach and on the sidewalk with gusto, upping the beauty quota of the pensioners' population residing in the quitetude of this long-acred shore, and infusing the humid air with their fragrances of coconut-laced suntan oil and white musk body sprays. The air carries the promise of an hedonic evening.Our field trip took us from watching a cyclone forming in the distance, swiftly approaching our car to our panic contrasted to the relative sang froid of our driver (they're quite used to them, he intimated), to discerning a space-shuttle launch visible all the way from Cape Canaveral in the distance, through the one of the most cataclysmic rains I have ever witnessed in my life and chasing sharks in every seaquarium within driving distance! Nevertheless, rolling on the highway to Orlando, funfair and theme-park capital of the universe most probably, one can't but notice a more commercial aspect: the staggering multitude of outlets for clothes, gadgets and...perfumes. Not merely one, but three major discount perfumeries dot the International Dr (at #1, H and 3A) and several others I bet were hiding behind the gigantic eateries with "Coke size small" served bucket-size. (America the Plenty, we thought and marvelled). It was here that the sales lady assisted our tourist queries with her recommendation to me of Hermès Calèche: "very classy, very old-world" were her words, as she was exclaiming how she always got Italian tourists at her store. If only she knew just how old our weary steps all the way from the Grecian dusty soil had been in this shinning new, almost teflon environment and how much the vast variety and deeply discounted prices had bedazzled us...We left with several gifts, one for every single family member we had seen since our baptismal at the very least.
.jpg)
Visiting the Universal Studios is a natural pilgrimage for anyone who has ever mimicked the Bride of Frankestein's hairdo with shampoo-foam in the shower or noted down Marxist references (or male thighs, I'll give you that) in Spartacus. And amidst the languid atmosphere and the scent of excitement that jeopardising-your safety-at-the-games-but-not-really (like in the Earthquake or Jaws shows) ignites in the human soul, I couldn't help but think how much Hollywood and the big studios have contributed to the lore of perfume wearing: Don't we still marvel at The Women and the racks of perfume flacons lined in the back of the store? Don't we tick off fragrance references in Pacino's recital in Scent of a Woman? (ie. Floris cologne, the fictional Ogilvy Siters soap, Misuki, Bay Rum and Fleurs de Rocaille). Don't we secretly envision ourselves as another Myrna Loy sitting in front of a heaving with expensive crystalware vanity?
.jpg)
But none of the fictional scentathlon can rival the rich, mossy, pungent and all around compelling atmosphere of the swamps; the greatest natural park of them all, the Everglades! Risk-seeking thrill must have been running through our veins at the time: We had not only rented a mini motor-boat cruising through the immense dirty-green and full of scattered leaves & water-lillies bodies of water that hide alligators and venomous turtles, but actually held the former in our hands when visiting the nearby breeding farm. I will never forget the feel of reptilian in my palm; surprisingly soft, oscillating from buttery soft to thick-skinned along the body, yet creepily cool to my mammal touch, like dead tissue. An alien feeling exacerbated by the nearby smell of hatched crocodilian eggs and fresh prey for the mothers.
.jpg)
The ambience of The Everglades is majestic and awe-inspiring, like entering an enchanted forest where everything takes on a twisted and dangerous nuance, only it's all played out in the eternal South, cast under the bright sunlight, as opposed to the more dimly-lighted spells of Ormonde Woman. Godzilla-sized mosquitos fester the area, which accordingly necessitates industrial-strength insect-repellant: Luckily, the little handy store outside the official entrace sells that by the trackload and despite its hair-nose singeing eucalyptus and terpene notes which had me reluctant to put it on myself, it seemed to work like a charm and keep the evil pests at bay for the whole day..jpg)
Thankfully, the long route that diverts from the national park to the Southern-most tip of the Florida Peninsula, the Florida Keys, took our mind off the "Off "and into fun escapades à la True Lies. If only we had the endless lean thighs of Jamie Lee Curtis to show, we would have fancied similar acrobatics with the open-top car, but we kept our modesty intact and the air-conditionning on full speed. Key West is a truly tropical paradise with the heat to match it, even in the early throes of autumn, and I can see why Ernest Hemingway chose to live some of his adventurous and short life here writing about mako sharks.Us, etternally drawn like Ulysses to their kin, magnetically recalibrated found the best Greek-owned restaurant where we died from gustatory hedonic rapture which included the most amazing and iodine-scented seafood, ending our meal with one of the most fragrant of all Americal dishes: the Key West Key Lime Pie.
.jpg)
Thanks to the tangier and more aromatic fruit of the Florida limes as opposed to Persian limes, the dish presents itself like a true fragrance, with citrusy and aromatic top notes titillating the palate, progressing into the buttery, egg-yolk smooth sarisfying heart and the condensed milk creaminess of its basenotes. The perfect closing of an unforgettable adventure.Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Travel Memoirs, Stars & Stripes: 10 Quintessentially American Fragrances
Pics via msnbcmedia4.msn.com, blacktomatoonline.co.uk, cache.virtualtourist.com, media.cdn.tripadvisor.com, tropical-impressions.net, mrmoms.org, gottaeatsweets.com
Monday, June 1, 2009
Flora Attica: Galivanting amidst the Greek gardens
The last day of May had me leafing through the photos that I had taken throughout the Veniamin month of spring. The fragrant orgy of the warm Greek spring was simply irresistible not to lock away in digital form for the gloomiest days of winter and the promise of a rampant summer was achingly palpable in every petal and every leaf.
Here are some of them as a small tribute to the glory of scented walks in the city...
The season of the lilac is all too brief, its passing leaving behind a nostalgic pang for beauty betrodden.
I like to prolong their fragrant whisperings by wearing Tocadilly, After my Own Heart by Ineke and Highland Lilac of Rochester well into the early throes of summer, when their lush, ripe beauty is but a distant memory. (click the links for reviews)
+perfumeshrine.jpg)
Pittosporum tobira (the dominant blossom in the heart of the strict, celebral chypre Knowing by Estee Lauder) hides in its small little corola a sweet, intoxicating smell of white floral longing.
The whiffs caught in the evening make the heart palpitate with pleasure and rapture.
The vibrant flowers of oleander in pink, white or salmon are characteristic of the Greek landscape and truly abundant, even in the intense heat of the summer. Their dusty, bittersweet aroma that combines earth and stem is indicative of their poisonous nature, yet tempting to a tentative taste.
Robinia pseudoacacia (mock acacia) on the other hand blooms safely in May and the white grappes hanging off the trees are swaying in the cool breeze of early morning with the promise of sunny happiness.
Small statuettes are very common in doorways and porticos and here we have a Venetian lion under a climbing vine and fuschia bougainvillea bush. The early peaches are visible on the peach tree at the background. The succulent juice of the fruit whets my appetite for Péché Cardinal by parfums MDCI, in which the sinful peach is the indomitable protagonist.
Fig trees, their mighty shade and their dusty, bitter tang of the leaves always a welcome solace in the schorching rays of high summer, are already producing their first figs, unripe and green. They're bitter still, their white-ish "milk" making one's face grimace upon smelling like a child sucking on a sour lemon for the very first time.
The refreshing quality of both tree and fruit is lovingly captured in L'artisan's Premier Figuier, Cielo by Napa Valley, and A la figue by Satellite.
Scarlett bougainvilleas are sadly without their match in perfumery, but their emblematic contrast with the white of the houses casts our mind to summer vacations on Greek isles and their respective irresistible bouquet of aromata of herbs and foliage.
Roses are early bloomers in the warm climate and the juxtaposition of this most English of flowers with the terracotta of the archaic metopes and akroteria is arresting in its unexpectedness. Whenever the mood strikes me for a lush rose fragrance such as these blooms I turn to the embullient rose and violet combination that is Yves Saint Laurent's Paris; its crystal melody speaking of feminine elegance and almost tipsy romanticism. When I want an earthier companion to my rose, Une Rose Chyprée by Andy Tauer and Frédéric Malle's Une Rose provide the rich, dirty feel that enrobs my roses with the pungent soil odour following a summer thunderstorm. And finally when I'm all out for an orientalised classical rose that "would smell as sweet", nothing will do but Guerlain's Nahéma.
Last but not least, this garlanded doorway of delight had me stop in my tracks even before I turned the corner of the small alleyway; the fragrant stream of the jasmine trellis was so potent, so intoxicating, my feet had a will of their own trying to track the source of the heavenly aroma! Nothing caprtures the beauty and the awe of summer jasmine in the warm embrace of the Mediterannean like A la Nuit by Serge Lutens ~its enveloping hug is as mesmerising as falling in love all over again: not only with one's beloved but, more importantly, with life itself.
All photos by Elena Vosnaki, copyright for Perfume Shrine. Click to enlarge.
Here are some of them as a small tribute to the glory of scented walks in the city...
The season of the lilac is all too brief, its passing leaving behind a nostalgic pang for beauty betrodden.
I like to prolong their fragrant whisperings by wearing Tocadilly, After my Own Heart by Ineke and Highland Lilac of Rochester well into the early throes of summer, when their lush, ripe beauty is but a distant memory. (click the links for reviews)
+perfumeshrine.jpg)
Pittosporum tobira (the dominant blossom in the heart of the strict, celebral chypre Knowing by Estee Lauder) hides in its small little corola a sweet, intoxicating smell of white floral longing.
The whiffs caught in the evening make the heart palpitate with pleasure and rapture.
The vibrant flowers of oleander in pink, white or salmon are characteristic of the Greek landscape and truly abundant, even in the intense heat of the summer. Their dusty, bittersweet aroma that combines earth and stem is indicative of their poisonous nature, yet tempting to a tentative taste.
Robinia pseudoacacia (mock acacia) on the other hand blooms safely in May and the white grappes hanging off the trees are swaying in the cool breeze of early morning with the promise of sunny happiness.
Small statuettes are very common in doorways and porticos and here we have a Venetian lion under a climbing vine and fuschia bougainvillea bush. The early peaches are visible on the peach tree at the background. The succulent juice of the fruit whets my appetite for Péché Cardinal by parfums MDCI, in which the sinful peach is the indomitable protagonist.
Fig trees, their mighty shade and their dusty, bitter tang of the leaves always a welcome solace in the schorching rays of high summer, are already producing their first figs, unripe and green. They're bitter still, their white-ish "milk" making one's face grimace upon smelling like a child sucking on a sour lemon for the very first time.
The refreshing quality of both tree and fruit is lovingly captured in L'artisan's Premier Figuier, Cielo by Napa Valley, and A la figue by Satellite.
Scarlett bougainvilleas are sadly without their match in perfumery, but their emblematic contrast with the white of the houses casts our mind to summer vacations on Greek isles and their respective irresistible bouquet of aromata of herbs and foliage.
Roses are early bloomers in the warm climate and the juxtaposition of this most English of flowers with the terracotta of the archaic metopes and akroteria is arresting in its unexpectedness. Whenever the mood strikes me for a lush rose fragrance such as these blooms I turn to the embullient rose and violet combination that is Yves Saint Laurent's Paris; its crystal melody speaking of feminine elegance and almost tipsy romanticism. When I want an earthier companion to my rose, Une Rose Chyprée by Andy Tauer and Frédéric Malle's Une Rose provide the rich, dirty feel that enrobs my roses with the pungent soil odour following a summer thunderstorm. And finally when I'm all out for an orientalised classical rose that "would smell as sweet", nothing will do but Guerlain's Nahéma.
Last but not least, this garlanded doorway of delight had me stop in my tracks even before I turned the corner of the small alleyway; the fragrant stream of the jasmine trellis was so potent, so intoxicating, my feet had a will of their own trying to track the source of the heavenly aroma! Nothing caprtures the beauty and the awe of summer jasmine in the warm embrace of the Mediterannean like A la Nuit by Serge Lutens ~its enveloping hug is as mesmerising as falling in love all over again: not only with one's beloved but, more importantly, with life itself.
All photos by Elena Vosnaki, copyright for Perfume Shrine. Click to enlarge.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Travel Memoirs: On the Bergamot Trail
Sailing on the Mediterranean Sea under the sweltering sun of late summer on a wooden built gulet, rubber-soled feet on parquet decks, scarf on salty-sprayed hair, and the guarantee of sunshine and clear blue waters, is almost an unbearable reminiscence in the heart of winter. 
Relaxing on deck, wining and dining under the stars in eno-gastronomical matchings to threaten even the toughest dieter’s plan and hopping off to catch couleur locale wherever interesting is the nomadic life I would love to be able to live in full 12 months of the year, if only I could. But snippets will suffice and trailing the route where bergamot ~this prized material for both perfumery and aromatherapy~ abounds, has its own rewards to last throughout the year into the months of cold and dreary.
Bergamot is inextricably tied to Sicily (the largest island in the Mediterranean Sea), the Calabria coast of Italy and the Ionian islands at the west of Greece.
And indeed despite current cultivation on the Ivory Coast in Africa which produced a cheaper product, it is still Sicilian bergamot (and lemon too)which is considered the highest quality in the world ~although it's sad to see the groves now seem erratic and neglected. It's the kind of rich joyous aroma that scents the finest morning Earl Grey cup of tea and gives it its delightful flavour. The fruit of the bergamot is inedible but the peel can be candied into a highly scented preserve which is very popular along the breadth of the Mediterranean; an exquisitely bittersweet marmalade, yummy on rye bread and butter, is painstainkely made by housewives.
Trekking over the villages my heart aches a bit from the echo of Grecanic (Griko or Katoitaliótika), linguistic remnants of the time when Sicily and Calabria were called Magna Graecia (Greater Greece) because of the numerous villages that survived from the colonization of the Greeks in the 5th century BC. So many relics, so many conquests have left their indelible mark on this austere place…
The history of Sicily has frequently seen the island controlled by greater powers—Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Islamic, Hohenstaufen, Catalan, Spanish; yet periods of independence, as under the Greeks and later as the Emirate- then Kingdom of Sicily- are also part of its multi-hued fabric. Since antiquity, the Sicilian landscape has hosted the cultivation of groves of Hesperidia trees, specializing in growing the sweetest lemons in the Mediterranean; cultivations interwoven in many facets of the Sicilian lifestyle.
The Garden of Hesperides according to classic Greek mythology belonged to Hera, Zeus’s wife and the Hesperides (Ἑσπερίδες) were nymphs, the daughters of Hesperus (God of the Evening Star, from whose name Vesper derives), who tended a blissful orchard in the far western corner of the world.
Native to China and Southeast Asia (with mentions in the Nan-Fang Ts’ao Mu from the 4th century BC) and encompassing hundreds of variations, citruses were brought to the west by the Arabs through the Spice Route during the Middle Ages.
Sicily (and Spain, to a greater extent due to the longer Arab conquest) thus became centers for the cultivation of hesperidia. During the 14th century, the spice and precious metals trade was the origin of wealth for the city-states of Italy, Venice and Genoa, until the battle at Chioggia in 1380, when defeated Genoa succumbed to a new reality: monopoly of the trade by the Venicians. Often Venetian galleys intercepted easterm caravans carrying wares at Aleppo, Handax or Alexandria, transporting the loot to European artisans. Among them, citrus fruits, only much later prized on board for their ability to fight scurvy.
One version of bergamot’s etymology attributes the root to a Turkish word meaning “Princess Pear”; another, after a small town in Italy where the oil was first sold. But it is Christopher Columbus who is said to have brought bergamot oil from the Canary Islands back to Spain and Italy. The bergamot tree (citrus bergamia) is the result of cross-breeding a lemon (citrus limonia) and a bitter orange tree (citrus aurantium). Classified as a citrus, the plant originated in tropical Asia but found an excellent breeding place in Sicily, Italy and the Ionian islands. Bergamot trees grow up to 16 feet tall, producing an almost pear-shaped, yellow fruit that is highly aromatic, similar to lemon, smaller than an orange. It was once called the Bergamot Pear Tree, not be confused with "false bergamot" used to aromatize Oswego-tea and derived from the plant Monarda didyma, a type of mint indigenous to the New World. Italian-conducted research indicates that bergamot oil relieves fear and anxiety, lifts the spirits, combating depression and calms anger by balancing the activity of the hypothalamus. Bergamot oil with its optimistic ambience evokes feelings of joy and acts as a confidence booster. 
Bergamot essence is easy to render, as are most citruses. I still recall how transfixed I was as a child scraping my nails on a bergamot or a lemon and being left with hands that almost dribbled with the bitter-tasting sour oil which scented them for hours on end. Cold-pressed /expressed from the rinds of the sour green fruit, a pale emerald-hued oil results, bergamot essential oil, possessing a refreshing lemony-orange smell, complex and with flower accents, yet also a subtly sweet balsamic undertone that makes it pliable to numerous uses in perfumery. The main chemical constituents in bergamot oil are limonene, linalyl acetate, nerol, and linalool; all are substances antiseptic and astringent with a fresh facet. The one constituent which might be possing a certain problem is bergaptene, a photosensitising agent, which has been under the radar of recent IFRA restrictions, although since forever the advice on putting fragrance on is not to use it on parts about to be exposed to the sun.
Bergamot and its uplifting aroma is traditionally paired with materials with citrusy nuances, such as lemon, coriander or orange blossom; rosey shades such as geranium or palmarosa; aromatic herbs/trees such as lavender, cypress or juniper; and flowers such as jasmine, ylang ylang and violet. Its alliance to erotic labdanum and darkish oakmoss (often with some inclusion of patchouli) creates the classic chypre accord, to which we have devoted a whole Series. But its wondrously influential use in simpler fragrance-waters hailing from Europe cannot be ignored!
Relaxing on deck, wining and dining under the stars in eno-gastronomical matchings to threaten even the toughest dieter’s plan and hopping off to catch couleur locale wherever interesting is the nomadic life I would love to be able to live in full 12 months of the year, if only I could. But snippets will suffice and trailing the route where bergamot ~this prized material for both perfumery and aromatherapy~ abounds, has its own rewards to last throughout the year into the months of cold and dreary.Bergamot is inextricably tied to Sicily (the largest island in the Mediterranean Sea), the Calabria coast of Italy and the Ionian islands at the west of Greece.
And indeed despite current cultivation on the Ivory Coast in Africa which produced a cheaper product, it is still Sicilian bergamot (and lemon too)which is considered the highest quality in the world ~although it's sad to see the groves now seem erratic and neglected. It's the kind of rich joyous aroma that scents the finest morning Earl Grey cup of tea and gives it its delightful flavour. The fruit of the bergamot is inedible but the peel can be candied into a highly scented preserve which is very popular along the breadth of the Mediterranean; an exquisitely bittersweet marmalade, yummy on rye bread and butter, is painstainkely made by housewives.
Trekking over the villages my heart aches a bit from the echo of Grecanic (Griko or Katoitaliótika), linguistic remnants of the time when Sicily and Calabria were called Magna Graecia (Greater Greece) because of the numerous villages that survived from the colonization of the Greeks in the 5th century BC. So many relics, so many conquests have left their indelible mark on this austere place…The history of Sicily has frequently seen the island controlled by greater powers—Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Islamic, Hohenstaufen, Catalan, Spanish; yet periods of independence, as under the Greeks and later as the Emirate- then Kingdom of Sicily- are also part of its multi-hued fabric. Since antiquity, the Sicilian landscape has hosted the cultivation of groves of Hesperidia trees, specializing in growing the sweetest lemons in the Mediterranean; cultivations interwoven in many facets of the Sicilian lifestyle.
The Garden of Hesperides according to classic Greek mythology belonged to Hera, Zeus’s wife and the Hesperides (Ἑσπερίδες) were nymphs, the daughters of Hesperus (God of the Evening Star, from whose name Vesper derives), who tended a blissful orchard in the far western corner of the world.
Native to China and Southeast Asia (with mentions in the Nan-Fang Ts’ao Mu from the 4th century BC) and encompassing hundreds of variations, citruses were brought to the west by the Arabs through the Spice Route during the Middle Ages.Sicily (and Spain, to a greater extent due to the longer Arab conquest) thus became centers for the cultivation of hesperidia. During the 14th century, the spice and precious metals trade was the origin of wealth for the city-states of Italy, Venice and Genoa, until the battle at Chioggia in 1380, when defeated Genoa succumbed to a new reality: monopoly of the trade by the Venicians. Often Venetian galleys intercepted easterm caravans carrying wares at Aleppo, Handax or Alexandria, transporting the loot to European artisans. Among them, citrus fruits, only much later prized on board for their ability to fight scurvy.
One version of bergamot’s etymology attributes the root to a Turkish word meaning “Princess Pear”; another, after a small town in Italy where the oil was first sold. But it is Christopher Columbus who is said to have brought bergamot oil from the Canary Islands back to Spain and Italy. The bergamot tree (citrus bergamia) is the result of cross-breeding a lemon (citrus limonia) and a bitter orange tree (citrus aurantium). Classified as a citrus, the plant originated in tropical Asia but found an excellent breeding place in Sicily, Italy and the Ionian islands. Bergamot trees grow up to 16 feet tall, producing an almost pear-shaped, yellow fruit that is highly aromatic, similar to lemon, smaller than an orange. It was once called the Bergamot Pear Tree, not be confused with "false bergamot" used to aromatize Oswego-tea and derived from the plant Monarda didyma, a type of mint indigenous to the New World. Italian-conducted research indicates that bergamot oil relieves fear and anxiety, lifts the spirits, combating depression and calms anger by balancing the activity of the hypothalamus. Bergamot oil with its optimistic ambience evokes feelings of joy and acts as a confidence booster. 
Bergamot essence is easy to render, as are most citruses. I still recall how transfixed I was as a child scraping my nails on a bergamot or a lemon and being left with hands that almost dribbled with the bitter-tasting sour oil which scented them for hours on end. Cold-pressed /expressed from the rinds of the sour green fruit, a pale emerald-hued oil results, bergamot essential oil, possessing a refreshing lemony-orange smell, complex and with flower accents, yet also a subtly sweet balsamic undertone that makes it pliable to numerous uses in perfumery. The main chemical constituents in bergamot oil are limonene, linalyl acetate, nerol, and linalool; all are substances antiseptic and astringent with a fresh facet. The one constituent which might be possing a certain problem is bergaptene, a photosensitising agent, which has been under the radar of recent IFRA restrictions, although since forever the advice on putting fragrance on is not to use it on parts about to be exposed to the sun.Bergamot and its uplifting aroma is traditionally paired with materials with citrusy nuances, such as lemon, coriander or orange blossom; rosey shades such as geranium or palmarosa; aromatic herbs/trees such as lavender, cypress or juniper; and flowers such as jasmine, ylang ylang and violet. Its alliance to erotic labdanum and darkish oakmoss (often with some inclusion of patchouli) creates the classic chypre accord, to which we have devoted a whole Series. But its wondrously influential use in simpler fragrance-waters hailing from Europe cannot be ignored!
To be continued...
The joyous spirit of hesperides matches the uplifting mood of this lovely Italian song which will surely brighten your day!
Song "Vanità di Vanità", written by Angelo Branduardi from the 1983 picture "State Buoni, Se Potete" directed by Luigi Magni. This film depicts the time and life of Filippo Neri.
All pictures © copyright by Elena Vosnaki/Perfumeshrine
Friday, October 10, 2008
Travel Memoirs: Paris, part 2 ~L'Artisan, Serge Lutens, Frederic Malle
by guest writer Elysium
Since the first pioneering experiments by small artisanal brands like L’Artisan Parfumeur and Diptyque thirty years ago, the phenomenon called niche perfume has really blossomed. The small companies are now big names, their new releases once unnoticed are now highly anticipated. Being in Paris, I could not miss the chance to pay a visit to some of those who brought new ideas into a traditional craft and paved the way for the others.
There are several L’Artisan Parfumeur boutiques in Paris (in the 1er, 4eme, 7eme, 9eme and 16eme arrondissements). The one I visited is located at the banks of the Seine, a stone's throw from the Louvre Museum.
The boutique was minimalistically decorated yet stylish, using exactly the same concept as their perfume creations. Once inside, the first thing that meets the eye was the wall with their Harvest creations. Upon asking the friendly SA, I was told that the perfumers at the L’Artisan Parfumeur were at that time still working hard to find the suitable harvests to make the next one in the series. Moving a few steps towards the inner part of the shop there was a table with temporary decorations, highlighting scents that were especially suited for the season.
The diversity L’Artisan Parfumeur represents makes it easy for everyone to find something; if no perfume this time, then maybe a lovely amber ball for the home? And when you are tired of smelling perfumes, take a seat in the cozy couch and have some rest.
Only one place can match Guerlain’s ability to attract perfumistas to Paris ~the location Palais-Royal is indeed more than suitable for the royalty of niche perfume houses. Since its opening in 1991, Les Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido, or commonly called Serge Lutens, has not lost any of its mystery, largely due to the fact that only press is allowed to take photos inside the salon. Assisted by Google Maps I ended up at the backside of the boutique, but with some help of a written note on the glass window I managed to find the correctly entrance in the end. The first time one enters the Serge Lutens salon one is bound to make a theatrical pause: it is decorated solely in black and violet, with flourished decoration that yet whispers of pure elegance. Indeed, high-contrast is Ariadne’s thread through everything Mr. Lutens has ever touched: his photographs, his paintings, his makeup creations, his perfumes and his salon. 
Many of the previous limited-edition bell jars can be viewed, and a stair in the middle of the boutique leading to the unknown crowns the entire magical atmosphere. Presprayed test blotters are placed beside the perfume bottles and if you find any perfume particularly interesting you are very welcome to make skin tests. The exclusive range coming in the so called bell jars is of course the highlight of the visit, but be careful not overdosing your nose with these innocent beauties. Unfortunately Serge Lutens does not make any liquid samples of their exclusive range; however the staff readily gives you a set of wax samples to bring home. As for the export range liquid samples are available, but most often they can only be obtained with purchases. I myself took the advice of Luca Turin and “boldly demanded Bois de Violette” and ended up with another pretty bag in my hands.
Comparing to the slightly austere feeling at Serge Lutens, the Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle boutique on 37 Rue Grenelle was much more relaxed. It is minimalistically decorated with a touch of high tech. On the elegant wood paneled walls hang framed photographs of all the perfumers that have contributed to the Frédéric Malle brand. This is a company which puts the brains behind the fragrances into focus, giving the masters the credit they deserve. Therefore the Frédéric Malle line stands for creativity and diversity, ranging from the purest tuberose soliflore (Carnal Flower) to the most complex musk (Musc Ravageur); high quality is the only thing uniting them. You can either freely play with the perfumes by yourself, or you can also step into one of the special designed smelling boots to feel a scent surrounding you. Except for the testers all the perfumes are placed inside refrigerators, to keep them at constant temperature. At the time of my visit I knew a new Frédéric Malle perfume was coming out (Dans tes Bras). 
Naturally I had to ask the lady working in the boutique about it, only a small test bottle was available for the inquisitive one to sample. Since at the time Dans tes Bras was not officially released, the lady curiously asked me how I knew about it, at which prompt I happily took the chance to avdertise the perfume blogosphere.
Paris would not be Paris without the great variety of choices; the last part of this travel story will be devoted to a few hidden gems among the Parisian perfumeries. That’s all for now...
You can read Part 1 of Paris Memoirs clicking here
Shopping Guide:
L'Artisan Parfumeur: 2 Rue de l'Admiral de Coligny, Paris, Phone: +33 01-4488-2750.
32 Rue du Bourg Tibourg 75004 Paris, Phone : 01.48.04.55.66
Salons du Palais-Royal Shiseido, Serge Lutens: 142 Galerie de Valois-25 Rue de Valois, 1er arrondissement Louvre/Tuileries, Paris. Metro station: Palais-Royal. Car access: 25 Rue de Valois. Phone: +33 01-49-27-09-09 Fax: +33 01-49-27-92-12 (open Monday to Saturday, 10am to 7pm)Map here
Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle: 37 rue de Grenelle, 7e, St-Germain-des-Pres, Paris Phone: +33 01-42-22-76-40 Metro: Rue du Bac
{Other locations: 140 av. Victor Hugo, 16e, Trocadero/Tour Eiffel, Paris, +33 01-45-05-39-02, Metro: Victor Hugo. 21 rue du Mont Thabor, 1er, Louvre/Tuileries, Paris, +33 01-42-22-77-22, Metro: Tuileries}
See a Google map of perfumeries/perfume & beauty shopping in Paris on this link (printable)
Pics copyrighted by Elysium (with the sole exception of the Lutens interiors where photography taking isn't allowed), not to be reproduced without permission.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Travel Memoirs: Paris, part 1 ~Guerlain Boutique & Museum, Caron Boutique, Fragonard Museum
introducing guest writer Elysium
There might be doubts about which perfume is the most beautiful, but there is no dispute about where the Mecca of fine fragrances lies. Paris, La Ville-lumière, is the place where people from all over the world gather to obtain a piece of genuine French chic, let it be an Hermès scarf, a Chanel dress or a bottle of Guerlain perfume. During my latest trip to Paris I had the chance to visit a few Parisian perfumeries, and here are some memories from that delightful trip.
Coming back from Paris, none of my perfume friends asked me if I climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower nor if I saw La Joconde, all of them asked only one question: “Did you visit Guerlain?” Indeed, in the universe of perfumistas the grand boutique on 68 Avenue Champs-Elysées is something special, as soon as you enter the green ornamented doors you enter a world of elegance and magic. Don’t be fooled by the ordinary assortment you see on the ground floor, it is the second floor that vaults the real jewels and earned the fame of this boutique. Taking the stairs up, one immediately gets welcomed by a room decorated by golden mosaics from ceiling to floor; can it be more glamorous than this? Yes it can, how about a whole wall full of bee bottles in all sizes that can be imagined, or a gigantic chandelier holding the most classic Guerlain perfumes? {click to see the pics in larger format}
Here one finds beauties from the past like Candide Effluve and Sous le Vent standing side by side with the latest offspring like Quand Vient la Pluie and Cruel Gardenia; all these are free to be played with without the risk of being followed by any over-enthusiastic boutique staff member. The staff is very friendly nevertheless, answering all my questions even though I did not purchase anything. The most funny to the verge of being ridiculous experience inside the boutique is smelling inside the “microwave ovens”, containing sample smells of a few real old classics including Kadine and Ode: unfortunately the odors are very faint and not much can be perceived. Except for perfumes there are also one section dedicated for room scents and one for makeup. With the feeling that I have just visited a perfume museum rather than a shop I went out into the sunlight again.
Having quenched some of my thirst inside the Häagen-Dazs on the Champs-Élysées, I walked with steady steps towards Avenue Montaigne. Squeezed between the ultra expensive fashion boutiques I found the place I was looking for, Caron - the boutique with a golden label. This is how one imagines a perfume shop would look like in the eighteenth century, everything touched by one's eyes screams style. Gilded boxes, ornamented glass bottles, fine milled powders and classic smells, you name it; nothing is too elegant or too feminine for the Caron shop! But of course, nothing beats the perfume fountains (urns), containing the most precious drops bearing the label Caron.
While sampling in leisure my eyes set upon a basket filled with the softest swan dune powder puffs in all imaginable colors. As soon as I took one in my hands it was impossible to put it down again; although the price was pure robbery, I walked out happily clutching a Caron bag.
The last classic perfume house I visited in Paris was the Grasse-based Fragonard. The former Napoleon III town house on Rue Scribe holds a combined shop with a tiny museum. The museum was really not more than a three room apartment, but nevertheless my two enthusiastic and friendly guides made the visit very enjoyable. Inside the museum some instruments used in traditional perfumery were displayed. As we were looking at them the guides briefly explained the different extraction techniques like distillation, maceration and enfleurage. The following room housed a collection of perfume bottles and other bathroom accessories from ancient times to today; the highlight was the complete presentation of an antique vanity case, which basically was a moving makeup desk. The last part of the museum was dedicated to raw materials used in perfumery; there were a few samples available for the visitors to play the smell and guess game. A beautiful perfume organ marked the end of the tour, showing the path leading to the Fragonard shop. Everything in the shop is at reduced factory prices; especially the cute sample packs make a great souvenir from Paris!
Here ends my small tour of perfumeries with great history in Paris, coming up next are the inventors of niche fragrances.
Thank you for your reading and stay tuned for Part 2: Serge Lutens, L’Artisan and Frederic Malle
Shopping Guide:
Guerlain SPA & BOUTIQUE 68, Avenue des Champs-Elysées 75008
Paris Tel. 33 1 45 62 1121
Caron 34 avenue Montaigne 8th Arrondissement, Paris 75008 Tel. +33 01 47 23 40 82
Fragonard 9 rue Scribe 75009 PARIS FRANCE Tel. +33 (0)1 47 42 04 56
See a Google map of perfumeries/perfume & beauty shopping in Paris on this link (printable)
All pics copyrighted by Elysium, not to be reproduced without permission.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
This Month's Popular Posts on Perfume Shrine
-
In the interests of research (if you have been following the Best Seller and Best of/Top annual lists you know how historical archiving warm... -
The upcoming Lancome fragrance, La Vie Est Belle ( i.e. Life is Beautiful ), is exactly the kind of perfume we dedicated perfumephiles love... -
When testing fragrances, the average consumer is stumped when faced with the ubiquitous list of "fragrance notes" given out by the... -
.jpg)
Shalimar...its sonorous name reverberates long after its smell has evaporated, conjuring images of prodigal sensuality and old-fashioned rom... -
Lunamaris by Diptyque , part of the new collection Les Essences , inspired by rare natural materials, managed to capture my attention and ...
