Fragrant by Mandy Aftel: perfume book giveaway

More of a biographical mapping out of the discovery of a new career path and the richness with which it has gifted its author than a mainstream guide, Fragrant: The secret life of scent by Mandy Aftel is a fascinating journey into four key materials (cinnamon, incense, mint, jasmine and ambergris), their mystical significance, their aura, their historical pathway and with it the trajectory of natural perfumery. The book takes the form of a meditation on the sensuality and pleasure that natural materials offer, divided into 5 parts corresponding to each material) and a plea for the embracing of their sensuous capabilities in our increasingly sterilized world.

Aftel's Essence and Alchemy is already a perfume book classic, aimed at the fragrance enthusiast with the desire to learn (it includes a hands down approach to learning to build fragrant chords with natural essences and a classic fragrance pyramid structure tutorial a la Jean Carles), while Fragrant: The Secret Life of Scent is less of a traditional guide. Instead Aftel muses on several points on scent while adding tidbits that are always interesting and a handful of recipes for edible stuff that would make you see things in a new light. For that reason it would appeal to the novice, as it does not require special knowledge in order to follow its beautiful prose, but also to the more accomplished fragrance collector as a tome to stand proudly in their library.

You can order the book on Amazon at a special price.

I have a new hardback copy to share with a lucky reader. Please enter a comment below to be eligible. Draw is open internationally till Friday midnight.

"Perfume, The Art & Craft of Fragrance" by Karen Gilbert: book review & free copy giveaway

Fragrance expert, author, teacher and speaker Karen Gilbert demystifies the secretive world of perfumery in a new book, Perfume, The Art & Craft of Fragrance, that inspires readers to explore their olfactory sense and create their own personalised fragrances.
[I am hosting a drawing of one free copy for a lucky reader, so if you're interested read on.]

The market is becoming a bit saturated with books on perfume written in English lately (a far cry from 10 years ago) thanks to the revelation of perfume lovers online, which convinced the publishing houses that there is viable market interest, so finding a worthwhile, helpful one is a task that merits tackling. Gilbert's effort is nuanced, structured, honest and factual, and offers insights that go beyond the pretty pictures of coffee table books, long winded "stories" with little concrete info or just reviews with "notes" mentioned.

Karen Gilbert

Perfume, the Art & Craft of Fragrance is roughly divided into two major parts: one explains the basics of fragrance history, appreciation, psychology and understanding of perfumes, the other guides you steadily yet gently into experimenting with your own blends in inimitable Karen Gilbert style (I'm a fan of her other book too, Natural Beauty, which proposes several easy and useful recipes for homemade skincare). The chapters are divided as follows:

Introduction
1.The Psychology of Smell
2.A History of Perfumery and Fragrance Icons
3.Fragrance Classification
4.Natural and Synthetics Fragrance Materials
5.Creative Perfumery Techniques
6.Creating Perfume Sprays, Oils and Solids
7.Creating Bath & Body Products
8.Creating Home Fragrances
Resources
Index
Acknowledgments

Obviously the History section is a condensed version of what most aficionados might already know, briefly (no archaeological data included) going from the institution of Grasse as perfume capital to the introduction of synthetics in the 19th century and thereafter delineating the major periods of 20th century perfumery with a handful of mould-breaking fragrances mentioned. So is the Psychology chapter, which is running the basics and suggesting that one needs to experiment to find their own voice in this world. But the rest of the chapters are quite detailed indeed, with emphasis on how to distinguish materials, recognize them and use them effectively.

The book overall is aimed at both the complete novice who is eager to learn and the more experienced aficionado who wants to fine-tune some perceptions, build their knowledge and see how they can set into experimenting themselves. In short it manages to score two birds in one stone. If I were overcritical I might venture the thought that the complete novice would still find a couple of mentions troublesome to grasp. For instance in the pivotal chapter 3 (Fragrance Classification) there is a sub-chapter called Learning to Describe Fragrance which is mighty interesting, but in the Build Your Olfactory Vocabulary list there are such terms as "amine", "butyric", "phenolic", "ozonic" or "aromatic" which are not explained anywhere in the book, leaving the novice a bit perplexed. (Karen does explain later on the terms animalic and indolic well). Obviously a short tome can't encompass everything, so it's good homework at the very least. But Karen's approach overall is to be commended.

via karengilbert.co.uk

Gilbert guides the reader with an aim to inform and to resolve popular misunderstandings, not to flatter their ego or position herself a certain way (she doesn't need to, she has tenured at IFF and runs her own perfumery courses in the UK), which makes the book really useful, something that cannot be said for other books on the subject. Without touting my own horn too much and gaining confidence by the fact that Karen Gilbert herself is a fan of Perfume Shrine (she actually mentions it in the Resources page as recommended reading), I'd say that if you have been enjoying reading this site, you are bound to enjoy her book as well; it offers references and is easy to get what you're looking for without wading through tons of unrelated text.

There are many small gems in the tome, such as the differentiation of aromatherapy and aroma-chology,  info on more than one fragrance classification systems (in fact in the Orientals fragrance family chapter I found myself smiling in recognition while reading the differences between the "ambreine" and "mellis" oriental perfume accord), the Jean Carles method for training your nose, lots of synthetics mentioned by actual name, guidelines in which materials work best in home blends and which carrier makes for a better product in the recipes (this also makes a helpful hint when actually choosing bath & body and home fragrance products online as in checking the ingredients list) as well as where to get supplies. There is also the priceless recognition of the perfume online community in her use of the term "fruichouli". To offer an anecdote, it's perfume lover Mbanderson61 who coined it, I believe over at the chatty Perfume Posse, and if she had a dime for each time this term is mentioned online by us she'd be crazily rich now, but I digress.

I haven't found the time to test most of the actual formulae yet, apart from a couple of perfume oils and solids (because I happened to have suitable ingredients at hand) which turned out very good. I'm holding out for when the holidays come around.

Perfume, the Art and Craft of Fragrance would also make a lovely, decently priced Christmas gift for anyone with a passing interest in scent. The little tome is hardback, beautifully shot by photographer Jo Henderson and has nice, heavy, matte-glossed pages that just feel good to the hand. It's compact and small enough to be carried in a purse and read on the subway or during your lunch break, though you'll want to keep in your study for reference. It is available on Amazon for just 10.92$.
Bottom line: Recommended.

Gilbert, Karen, "Perfume, the Art and Craft of Fragrance", 2013 October,
CICO books, London New York.
Hardback
ISBN 978-1-78249-044-9

Retail Price 9.99GBP/16.95$US

There is a draw for one FREE copy of the book for a lucky UK-address reader. Please state in the comments whether you're interested.
Draw is open till Sunday midnight and winner to be announced on Monday.

Kathleen Tessaro The Perfume Collector: fragrance book review

Grace Munroe. Eva d'Orsey. One English and pampered into false security. The other French-countryside-born and exiled in New York, serving to make ends meet. One straight-laced by nurture, yet inquisitive, the other building herself from the bottom up and uninhibited by nature, picking up life lessons wherever she can, from decadent emigrés to call girls. One disillusioned by marriage, the other becoming the mistress of a cosmetics tycoon to help materialize her own plans. But when one inherits the other, though the two have never met, and indeed the heiress has absolutely no idea who this mysterious Eva is, the two lives intermingle and the English rose is in for some coming of age metamorphosis, the French way, with a brisk and brief perfumery introduction lesson in the middle of it. This the central plot of Kathleen Tessaro's new novel The Perfume Collector and if this reminds you vaguely of the journey of finding one's self with the help of French (or Frenchified) style icons after a failed marriage in her earlier novel Elegance it is because it is basically the same theme.

Source: Uploaded by user via Perfume on Pinterest

There is simply no way around it. The Anglo-Saxon is mesmerized by the lure of the Continental, with the latter's abandon to sensuality, its convenient compartmentalization of personal life & business and of its Cartesian logic (and non Protestant ethic) while wading through life. Even we have often elaborated on what makes this particular tick tick. And if there is one lesson to be derived is to suck the juice out of the bone of life because life is short, a sentiment with which I can't bring myself to disagree.

"The name, madam..." Eva could hardly say it out loud without blushing. "My Sin". Madame Zed said the words slowly, her black eyes unblinking. "What about it?"Eva hesitated. "It's just...well..what does it mean? What sin?"

 Madame was silent for a moment, looking past Eva, or rather through her, as if she were transparent. Finally she spoke. "Do you know what sin means?"

"To do something wrong?"Madame shook her head. "That's one meaning. But there's another, from the Greek, hamartia, which translates, 'to miss the mark'. That's the meaning I prefer. ""To miss the mark" Eva repeated, committing it to memory.

 "Yes", Madame continued. "We try and fail, like archers who aim for the target but fall short of the mark."Eva watched as she removed the lace shawl. "When you are older and have swum out into the stream of life, you'll see - there are no 'good people', little girl. We're all trying and failing, trying too hard and failing too often. Remember that. We shouldn't judge too harshly, in the end, the sins of others."

Tessaro does a beautiful job of putting the sequence in non-chronological order, starting in media res, and then retracing the tale to its beginnings as the search for the enigmatic Eva is conducted by both Grace and the reader through the flashbacks. To do this comfortably Tessaro breaks down the novel in two distinct narrative viewpoints, Exit to Eden style, and two different time-periods, one following Eva, the other following Grace. One feels that the blue-eyed blonde British K.Tessaro is having a particular pleasure into delving into the brunette territory of Eva, her primal name a nod to her budding but all potent femininity, sometimes to the point of exaggeration.

Bending closer, she gave his shoulder a shake. "Sir!"His eyes opened, blinking to focus. 'I'm sorry, it's only Madame wants you", she explained in a whisper. "She says..."Suddenly he grabed her wrist. "Hush!" And still in a fog of sleep, he pulled her close. Eva pitched forward, into his arms. Valmont inhaled.

 At first her natural seemed straightforward, simply; the slightly acrid, almost creamy aroma of a child's damp skin. But underneath that, a rich, musky element seeped through, unfolding slowly; widening and expanding to a profound, primitive, animalistic essence. The sheer range and complexity of her odour was astonishing. The effct, intensely arousing. It was the most compelling, deeply sensual thing Valmont had ever encountered. 

Eva pushed him away, horrified. "What are you doing?""You smell..." he murmured. "Yes, thank you!" She scrambled to her feet. "I hardly need you to tell me that!" she hissed. "Madame wants to see you...""No, you don't understand". He reached for her again; short sharp intakes now, savouring the notes, rolling them round on his olfactory palette. "It's unique. Completely unique.""Get off!" Eva swatted him.

 Suddenly something shifted in the bed; a body. The person next to him stretched out and rolled over onto their stomach. 

It was another man. 

The novel isn't devoid of some weaknesses, easily overlooked when regarded within its genre nevertheless. The pivotal scene of discovering the abandoned perfume shop -owned by perfumer to Eva D'Orsey Andre Valmont- is rather contrived. The name Valmont by itself is eerily problematic, bearing as it does no reference to Laclos's infamous hero (the mind being predestined to forever associate it with him), as it pertains to a homosexual Jewish youth apprentice (and later celebrated perfumer) who becomes Eva's entry to the magical world of smells. Of course Eva d'Orsey herself reflects the D'Orsay perfume brand (and I had to correct myself in each and every instance I typed her name for this review), though not deliberately. But the invention of the back story of the mysterious Russian Madame Zed (actually a real person, possibly of French origin, named Marie Zede, at the helm of the Lanvin perfume story back then), met at the height of her fame in New York city, is satisfying enough to forgive these minor quibbles.

Throughout one gets the impression the author has always had a peripheral interest to scents (if her pivotal mention of one in her previous novel Elegance is any indication, since I'm unfamiliar with the rest) but needed to stumble upon the online perfume aficionado community to get the juices going and to borrow the lingual framework on which to build her descriptions. Some phrases ring rather modern when describing conversations with people involved in the industry in as far back as the 1920s and the 1950s. But if the reader is a casual one and not a follower of every board and blog concerning fragrance and smell, this gets bypassed easily. What is perhaps more apparent to the average eye is the awe-struck descriptions of Paris, as recounted by the impressionable heroine Grace Munroe, to the point where London is chastised for having "bundled" its monuments tightly together (an observation which as a formerly frequent visitor to the city left me surprised) and the Parisian weather glossed over while the heiress lunches al fresco at every opportunity. There's a missed opportunity there to go on an tangent and report a lay woman's impressions on some of the intelligentsia of the Parisian 1950s, but we're dealing with chick lit and Tessaro handles her weapons knowingly and with ease.

All in all, The Perfume Collector doesn't disappoint. It's an easily paced read whose prose doesn't suffer the way it would in a less skilled author's hands and which should keep you good company on the chaise-longue while sunbathing or on the train ride commuting to work, eradicating the grayness and the city torpor via fantasy.

The Perfume Collector by Kathleen Tessaro is available for purchase  on Amazon on this link.

Photo Perfume store. Photographs by Hans Wild. From the historical archives of LIFE Magazine 1947.
Disclosure: I was sent a copy for reviewing purposes. 

The Diary of a Nose by Jean Claude Ellena: Perfume Book Review

Mηδέν ἄγαν (i.e. nothing in excess)
  ~oracular statement inscripted on the wall of the Delphi oracle in Greece, 440 BC

"We have exiled beauty; the Greeks took up arms for her." 
  ~Albert Camus 

'I was born in Grasse, and yet I do not feel Grassois by nature, nor Provençal, for that matter. [...] My attachment to the place is due to my paternal grandparents, who were of Italian descent and who set up home there. [...] I love the sea and its horizon, where my gaze gets lost as the blue of the sky and that of the sea merge. I appreciate the beautiful bodies, the drape of light clothing, the discreet elegance and restraint. I have never been able to truss myself up in suits; their restrictiveness denotes a rigidness of mind and disenchantment with life. I believe in happiness, in man, in a lay spirituality; I do not trust religions. I would rather have eye contact for a long time than chatter for a long time. And, although I like to seduce, I have a sense of propriety with words. As I write this, I am reminded in particular of Camus, who wrote in L'exil d'Hélène:

"Greek thought always took refuge in the idea of limits. It pushed nothing to its full extent, not the sacred, nor reason, because it denied nothing, not the sacred, nor reason. It took everything into account, balancing shadow and light".

I have never sought to impose anything. My research is driven by a constrant desire to find a balance between what can be felt with the senses and what is intelligible to the mind. I am Mediterranean. '

  ~Jean Claude Ellena, Cabris 26 August 2010

Santorini house, Greece. Source: moonlightrainbow.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

The thought that Ellena represents the Mediterranean prototype to a T (in itself a Classical prototype of meaningful, deceptive simplicity) has been at the back of my mind since forever. I had even posed the question to the man himself, to which he had smiled. I now see why most clearly.

"The Diary of a Nose" from which the above Ellena quote originates is the USA edition of the original French title "Journal d'un Parfumeur" (Sabine Wespieser Éditeur), printed by Rizzoli ExLibris, with the official launch date for the USA being 22 January 2013. As I was sent an advance copy I was able to gauge the differences with the French original which kept me engaging company for months on end. The main difference is right there on the cover itself: the odd usage of the word "parfumeur", as in "A Year in the Life of a Parfumeur" (as well as "exclusive parfumeur for Hermès" underneath it) in what is otherwise a 100% English-speaking tome threw me off a bit. It sounds tortured and odd. But that is the only flaw.

If you had only read Rachel Cooke's Observer review of the UK-edition of Diary of a Nose last summer, you might want to reconsider your impressions. Not because this new US edition of the Ellena-penned tome (with its fuschia jacket) is any different than the British version (with the beige-peach jacket), but because Cooke missed the point entirely, much as she should have known better, being an awarded journalist with lots of experience. But such are the perils of being a journalist in general rather than a fragrance writer per se. You get all in awe of the perceived authority of Turania (because you don't know any better yourself, I presume? what gives?) and you spend more time discussing them and their views (missing some of the praise they give Ellena too!) instead of focusing on the book and its author at hand! Not to mention that if this were a real life situation it would be exceptionally rude and inappropriate to describe someone only by way of comparing him unfavorably to someone else! How is that OK in a book review?

Lucia van der Post's jacket description of Ellena as the "Mozart of perfumery" in the Financial Times is quite apt, even though those of us who are musically trained might feel the "too many notes" of the ethereal musical garlands of the classical composer are contested by Ellena's adherence to "less is more" and the laconic simplicity the perfumer aims for. But the comparison is totally understood nevertheless: Ellena makes everything seem effortless -the prime constituent of elegance- even though reading the book one realizes that the process is anything BUT effortless! Like a "Cahiers du Cinéma" auteur, he chooses the word "author" to denote that perfume composition more than anything else is an intellectual work that requires thought behind each step and one which is uniquely personal to the creator who oversees everything about it.

Ellena takes the opportunity to show how ordinary situations form his creations: a standard air flight, when he recognizes one of his creations on a passenger whose smoke remnants surface beneath it; observing the Italian language teacher's way of scheduling his day, slow, observant & dreamy; discussions with friends and people in the field or business meetings (visiting growers of raw materials in Italy, appraising the heritage at Hermès) or more sophisticated/sensuous encounters (a purposefully arranged chef-guided dinner filled with gourmet appreciation or a Japanese Kodo ritual he attends).
All these occasions provide the stepping stone into pondering (instead of pontificating) about scents and of their artistic merits in a way that defies classification, but which indirectly draws upon the extensive body of western art criticism.

The book has the major advantage of being fit to be read out of order, taking the typical form of a diary, with places and dates of entry. I find myself leafing through, returning to a page when fancy strikes, pondering for a while for meanings that take on a different nuance once I have re-sniffed one of his creations, realizing that he doesn't aim to resolve anything (like an open-ended movie, this is a book to make you think for yourself!), just to communicate his thoughts, his questions, his own maturing process. It's an invitation to a dance for two, cheek-to-cheek, rather than a carefully orchestrated performance on video for all to watch in awe.

The final chapter "Summary of Smells", an index where the author reveals a few of his tricks into producing odors  from combining two or three simple raw materials, isn't meant as a chemical cheat sheet into how his perfumes are composed, nor to be parroted by bloggers and writers; it's a game he beckons us to play so as to gain insights and prompt us to experience things anew.
His entry for OLIVE for instance reads:

"This smells describes the Mediterranean single-handedly. From black olives to olive paste, via olive oil, my nose and palate find endless connections: smells of truffles, castoreum, human smells, smells I am drawn to.  

castoreum
benzyl salicylate 

To which you can add styrax resinoid and thyme if you want to produce the taste of olive paste."

Source: thenowbook.tumblr.com via PerfumeShrine on Pinterest

Ellena's prose is tender, unpretentious, ethereal like Giono's stories or Japanese ink calligraphy, and deeply personal. Because, beyond the "search for beauty", art is defined by the purposeful will to communicate something from creator to public, and that something can never be non personal. The more impersonal and all-encompassing that message tries to be, the less artistic the end result becomes. And this is the gist (and gift!) of Ellena's diary...

As the oracle would say "make your own nature, not the advice of others, your guide in life." [1]

The Diary of a Nose: A Year in the life of a Parfumeur 
by Jean Claude Ellena 
Rizzoli ExLibris, an imprint of Rizzoli New York 
ISBN: 978-0-8478-4042-7 
Hardcover 24.95$

[1] oracle given to Marcus Tulius Cicero by the Delphi oracle in 83 BC

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Perfume Books reviews & news

Chanel, an Intimate Life by Lisa Chaney: book review

The ultra-patriotic French won't be too pleased with Lisa Chaney's book on Chanel and her life unfolded in intimate detail for the tome she has signed, "Chanel an Intimate Life". Not only because there is a significant deconstruction of the myth that Chanel herself (and the people at Chanel) have built about that instantly picked-up logo, but also because they're painted in truer colors than the De Gaulle resistance fighters have always strived to present the WWII heroic romance. Chaney simply puts things into an historical perspective: Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel's link to Nazi officer Von Dincklage is a reflection of many common people's strive for survival through if not collaboration, then through "waiting it out". In fact the chapter recounting her passage into the war, when she closed her atelier, is titled "Survival".

Coco Chanel & Salvador Dali, scanned from Chanel an Intimate Life by openwardrobe.co.za

Modern readers will also get a mixed bag of feelings reading about women in the drawing of the 19th century who activately sought to cling to men for their survival: if they were unlucky and emotional, acting desperate for men who didn't give them much of a chance and used them as both recreational ground and reproductive machines, like Gabrielle's own unfortunate mother; if they were shrewd and calculating, using their guiles and beauty as hard currency to become irregulières and in some select cases grandes horizontales, i.e. famous courtesans, such as La Belle Otéro and Liane de Pougy. It is in this dubious (but often glamorized) latter milieu that Gabrielle Chanel gets into cognizantly, as an irregulière , a kept woman, after her lonely childhood and her early cabaret days, where she meets her formative lover and "the man of her life", Arthur "Boy" Capel. The book in fact starts with one of the discussions the famous designer has with Capel after he has successfully backed her up in her initial millinery projects: "I thought I'd given you a plaything, I gave you freedom" he sighs.

Chaney goes into much detail about the emotional life of Chanel and even though this portrayal is necessarily based on letters and biographies such as the memoir taken by Paul Morand, which can only reveal so much, and second-hand testimonies, which sometimes bear the special weight of the narrator, it seems that Gabrielle was a much more sensitive, responsive and agitated creature than we take her to be, especially after Capel's tragic death. I was especially distraught when reading about her final days, when the cocaine habit had taken the worst of her and she had been giving instructions to be tied on her bed at night so that she would avoid somnambulating naked amidst the corridors and the lobby of the Ritz that was to become her permanent residence.

The author takes things at the very top; the family background in rural France and the troubled formative years of Gabrielle Chanel which end in her abandonment by her father to Aubazine, the nun-run orphanage where she acquires much of her love for austerity, sharpness of aesthetics and love for the smell of cleanness. This is where her ideal for a perfume, to be later on materialized in the stupendous Chanel No.5. composed by Ernest Beaux, first takes seed: She admires the grandes cocottes because they smell pleasant. Speaking of society women Chanel would often say: "Ah yes, those women dressed in ball gowns, whose photographs we contemplate with a touch of nostalgia, were dirty....They were dirty. Are you surprised? But that's the way it was." Instead her own perfume differentiates itself in that it is a contstructed scent, not mimicking nature in order to mask humanity, but which relays the idea of a clean human being ready to please and be pleased. The book doesn't devote as much space or interest in Chanel No.5 or any of the other acclaimed perfumes issued when Chanel was alive, such as Bois des Iles, Cuir de Russie, Chanel Gardenia or Chanel No.19 perfume (or the even more cryptic and mystery ladden Chanel No.46 issued during the war). It certainly isn't as jam-packed with theories and factoids as the rewriting of the No.5 legend that Tilar Mazzeo undertook in The Secret of Chanel No.5 book. But there are still some interesting facts about the creation of this icon in the fragrance industry for those interested.

What the book seems to be unable to convincingly showcase, much as it tries and partially succeeds into, is show the genius of Chanel's fashions. The problem is one of format, rather than of effort: Only a coffee table book format could do justice to the wonderful designs that truly liberated women from the restrictions of La Belle Epoque which relished effect rather than functionality. Chaney does give emphasis into the silhouette that Chanel established, gives plenty of insight into how the atelier worked and lots of gossip on the relationship of Coco Chanel with her contemporaries and colleagues, from Poiret (her first potent rival) and Schiaparelli (whom she loathed) to Balenciaga (whom she respected, even though she never showed him the graciousness he exhibited towards her). There is also plenty of insights into her property (with extensive references to La Pausa, the house she had built and which she oversaw herself); her conducting of business, including her turbulent relationship with the Wertheimers; her entourage of artists and entrepreneurs from Serge Lifar and Diaghilev to her confidante Misia Sert, Cocteau and Reverdy; and of course her string of influential lovers after the loss of Capel, among which feature prominently the emigré count Dmitri Pavlovich, composer Igor Stravinsky and "Bend d'Or" commonly known as the Duke of Westminster.

Lisa Chaney is thorough and if you thought this is just a book on Coco's fashions or Chanel perfumes, you're in for a surprise. The scope covered is much, much wider, taking the stepping stone of a biography into a glimpse of European history: a dying era, a mad resurgence, a world wide war and the growth that follows its aftermath. It's not light reading, but it's worth it.

Disclosure: I was sent a copy for reviewing purposes. 

Meaningful Scents around the World (2006) by Roman Kaiser: Perfume Book Review

Sometimes the readers have a pre-conceived notion about where a book is going—although I suppose Proustian reminiscence never involved headspace technology. 

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

I first deduced a book with a rose on the cover would stay comfortably within the confine of conventional beauty. Guess again with Roman Kaiser as I found out when first cracked open “Meaningful Scents around the World” (2006), a fragrant journey around the world to some of the exciting places the author has visited during his 30 years of olfactory research.

One of the first things Kaiser covers, defying all of my expectations, is China —2500 years ago.

How Kaiser managed to track down the orchids Confucius praised and identified Cymbidium georingii as the scholar’s favourite is still beyond me. I actually spent about three decades trying to decipher it—and no luck—but then Kaiser solved the riddle like nobody’s business the minute I opened the book, not only providing insightful details about the plants but actually describes the scents in ways even a fragrance amateur would be interested in purchasing if the headspace result could be available in bottles. (Good luck convincing fragrance account managers that fascination.) Then again, who knew the orchid scent Confucius once enjoyed resembles a very ripe lemon crossed with lily of the valley?

And then it gets more and more curious from there.

Ever wonder what makes fine wines smelling the way they are? Actually, how about a fine 1988 vintage from Château d'Yquem? Kaiser has a report on that. Now Francophiles might be slightly miffed that Kaiser did not analyze the cult 1961 Sauternes featured in a pivotal sequence of Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud (1995), considered many as one of director Claude Sautet’s masterpieces (and one of the finest performances by French cinematic icon Emmanuelle Béart), but having a glimpse of the famous wine is good enough for a non-drinker like me.

From wine Kaiser then goes off to interesting places. Gewürztraminer actually a rosy smell due to ionones, and then from ionones he managed to examine how the modern hybrid roses benefit from the introduction of Rosa chinesis into the European rose hybridization program, using beta ionone as the indicator as he backtracks the evolution of roses.

Somewhere in between those sections Kaiser visits the famous nymphs—Egyptian blue lotus, for instance. Now the sacred blue lotus (Nymphaea caerulea) is incredibly fascinating, actually a water lily yet not only having a gorgeous hyacinth-like scent (minus the earthy undertone associated with the Dutch hyacinth hybrids) but actually was also used as the ancient Egyptian party drug or a shamanistic aid. Considering the fact that the wines in various Egyptian religious ceremonies were often macerated in the sacred blue lotus first one can only imagine how far the ancient Egyptians went in order to contact the divine! Then there’s the Amazonian water lily Victoria amazonica, initially named after Queen Victoria as Victoria regia and now linked to the iconic Waterlily House at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kew , England . Kaiser analyzed the Victorian marvel along with its sibling Victoria cruziana—though curiously enough the samples were taken from Munich’s Nymphenburg Palace—and concluded that two water lilies have, curiously enough, a plum-like scent in order to attract a specific species of beetles for pollination. Kaiser also notes that both species have similar scents, though amazonica is more refined than that of cruziana.

(Alas, I also secretly wished Kaiser would also explore the famous Sri Lankan lotus padparadscha, a flora so glowing that a Ceylon sapphire is named after. But then Kaiser did not make the detour!)

All in all what Kaiser really excels in this book, beyond all the aromatic magic and tour de force, is a sense of thematic coherence, never fails to communicate to the audience how the wide array of scents deserve their places in this book, which is so difficult to do considering to vast geographical, temporal, and cultural terrains he needs to whiz through in mere 304 pages. By keeping each theme to itself Kaiser surprisingly creates a focused, intimate way to maintain the excitement of each idea. This isn’t a chemistry text, more like an incredibly elevated edition of National Geography, only better.

But be warned: Kaiser did not reveal all the chemical readings, choosing to leave out, for instance, some of the more spectacular modern rose and incense findings. (Why devoting a whole chapter on agarwood when the headspace read outs are not going to be published in any shape or form in this book? And why praise the ever phenomenal “Fragrant Cloud” hybrid tea rose when the full read-out is not included? I have no idea why.) Kaiser also later transferred some material from this book for his “Scent of the Vanishing Flora” (2010)—some photographs and paragraphs are in fact near identical, although the floras are technically covered in different lights. Thus considering the hefty prices of these books, though really worth every penny given all the glossy pages and informative insights, one might be tempted to get just one of the two. (Which I chose to do eventually by purchasing “Vanishing Flora” and signing out “Meaning Scents” from my public library.) Of course, get both if you can.

Photo, from top: Book cover; Confucius’ orchid; Nelly and Mr. Arnaud from the eponymous movie; padparadscha lotus and padparadscha sapphires. All via Google.com unless specified otherwise.

R. Kaiser, Meaningful Scents around the World. Olfactory, Chemical, Biological and Cultural Considerations, Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and WILEY-VCH, Weinheim, 2006, ISBN 978-3-906390-37-6, 304 pages. 

The book is available on Amazon.

Scent of the Vanishing Flora (2010) by Roman Kaiser: Perfume Book Review

“Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It's contrast.”

                        ―Virginia Woolf, played by Nicole Kidman in "The Hours" (2002)

by guest writer AlbertCAN

Perhaps the most peculiar aspect of the fragrance industry, in the current sea of familiarity, is its ever forward-venturing heart. Just short of fully channelling the great prophetess Cassandra of Troy, fragrance taste-makers are constantly asked not just Quoi de neuf? No, any top brass should be asked to envision what’s next five or even ten years from now, where people’s taste are migrating, how people see themselves in the foreseeable future. Strategizing vision, navigating instability. After all, as any good MBA school dictates, a business leader articulates not just the now but the tomorrow. Or so on paper.

Of course, I’m writing about a climate where almost anything could be copyrighted but the actual fragrance formula, at a time when the next fragrance launch is really a thinly veiled doppelgänger of non-descript best sellers. Promise everything but sell them run of the mill. And in the era of good enough it really takes a book such as “Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Swiss fragrance chemist Roman Kaiser to remind myself that interesting works are being conducted beneath the seemingly boring façade.

Since 1968 Kaiser has been working for Givaudan, where he analyzes and reconstitutes natural scents for use in perfumery using the headspace technology, and after Douglas Stermer’s 1995 publication “Vanishing Flora: Endangered Plants Around the World” Givaudan began its aromatic exploration of endangered plants via eco-friendly, non-intrusive means. As of the end of 2010 Kaiser has analyzed 520 scented endangered plant species around the world; 267 are featured in this book.

The quality of Kaiser’s research is truly bar none, detailing each featured plant not just its ecology and history but also linking its scents to the major aromatic components. The book presents the flora with utmost respect, featuring large, high-resolution photos of nearly all the plants and gives very clear, concise descriptions of their conservation status at the time of writing. The scent profiles of each plant are equally thoughtful and concise, listing aspects of each scent not just by their characteristics, but also the aromatic components the scents are attributed to—not just their names in IUPAC but also the structural diagrams where applicable. To illustrate Kaiser’s superb ability to fuse the artistic with the scientific I have his account of the gorgeous night-blooming cereus:

"Equally spectacular in its flower and in contrast to S. wittii, more often seen in collections is Selenicereus grandiflorus, the famous ‘Queen of the Night’. The vine-like climber is native to Mexico, Jamaica, and Cuba, and develops large, amazingly beautiful flowers of the purest white surrounded by rayed golden petals. The flowers are also strictly nocturnal, moth pollinated, opening after sunset, reaching their maximum around mid-night, and already withering at dawn. They produce a very warm and rich aromatic-flower perfume backed up by white-floral facet which is quantitatively dominated by benzyl isovalerate [Kaiser’s diagram below], accompanied by a series of other isovalerates and esters of isomayl alcohol. These compounds, in part arising from the leucine catabolism, are, together with vanillin, olfactorily responsible for the vanilla and cocoa aspects, while linalool, (E,E)-farnesol, and high amount of (E,E)-farnesal including isomers contribute the white-floral and lily of the valley-related aspect. To protect this unique species at its natural habitat form overcollection for commercial puposes, it has been placed in CITES Appendis II. Among the 27 nocturnal species within Selenicereus, most have an equally stunning appearance but many have scents which correspond more to the so-called ‘white-floral’ concept often found among night-scented flowering plants".[Kaiser, 174]

              

vanillin

benzyl isovalerate

                                               

linalool

                                          

(E,E)-farnesol

             

(E,E)-farnesal

                             

If great natural scent variations are present within a plant, such is the case of a few orchids Kaiser would mention them as well. (Octavian has sampled a number of the scents featured in this book here so I shall not digress on that front.)

The most alarming aspect of the book, at least to me, isn’t about the far-flung, exotic plants featured in this book (which there are plenty) but the everyday, familiar gardening plants that are in fact on the brink of extinction due to over-harvesting. The ginkgo tree, as Kaiser informs, was thought to be extinct in the wild for centuries until “two small populations have been discovered in Eastern China” (pg. 37). Then the wide array of orchids due to a varying combination of deforestation and excessive harvesting: cattleyas, laelias, cymbidiums, dendrobiums—plants we see or even buy in garden centers and florists but in fact fast disappearing from the face of the earth. Or the gamut of trees due to their historical and cultural significance: rosewood, sandalwood, agarwood...I am beginning to see why the great Taoist writer and philosopher Zhuangzi often championed the non-descript, for brilliant things are often used and abused.

Still, the genius of this book is not based on just its multi-disciplinary approach or seamlessly fusing botany, ecology, organic chemistry, anthropology and even sociology. At the end of the day Kaiser presents a thoroughly researched, pain-stakingly detailed anthology of endangered plants. Readers from all walks of life can take away something from this book: for the average readers, the stunning photographs and stories; for the botanists and ecologists, the thorough research on the conservation of plants; and most importantly for fragrance chemists, the all too important scent readings that allow the future preservation of these plants, even only in their scents.

Some minor caveats, however. Firstly, for those who only wish to pick up a copy as a coffee table book, as chic as it might sound, they might be put off by the wide array of chemistry featured in this book. In fact having some post-secondary background in science, be it botany or organic chemistry, is highly recommended in order to fully comprehend the book. Still, to be honest the book is enticing enough even if you skip a few chemical names. On the other hand for those who are very chemically proficient: Kaiser did not include every single scent reading—the results on agarwood, for instance, aren’t shown (I’ve checked—several times) even though a sizable section is devoted to Kaiser’s findings. Minor grumblings compared to the overall quality of the work, however.

“Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Roman Kaiser was published by Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim. I purchased my copy from Amazon.ca.

Photos: Book cover photo from Leffingwell; Selenicereus grandiflorus from patspatioplants.com; compound diagrams from Google.com

Reference: R. Kaiser, Scent of the Vanishing Flora, Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim, November 2010, ISBN 13: 978-3-906390-64-2, 400 pages.

Damage Control by Denise Hamilton: Novel with Perfume Interest (book review)

To come across a book referencing scents, and specific perfumes on top of that, is one of the rare and largely misunderstood pleasures of a distinct nerdo-subgroup called "fumeheads", who, like illicit drug addicts, turn to whatever can give them their daily fix of olfactory stimulation. Usually it's liquids in beautiful bottles that do it, but the more cerebral of the lot turn to written material as well. Beyond specialised perfume books, novels in which perfume stands as both a symbol and a clue can provide infinite hedone. The latest of those is Damage Control, a noir thriller by Denise Hamilton.

Actually, set in Los Angeles and the latest of a long tradition that dates back to James Ellroy, Hamilton's novel reads as a neon noir film would, were it originally written for the page rather than the screen. The bright light that sheds everything in the end, the ocean lapping on the desires and memories of the people who work in this city of glam & slum recall the best elements of the genre in an intoxicating and punitive cocktail of celebrity and sex.

Crime novelist and journalist Denise Hamilton is known for her crime novels and the Edgar Award winning anthologies Los Angeles Noir and Los Angeles Noir 2: The Classics.
In Damage Control everything is recounted through the first-person narrative of PR executive Maggie Silver, a middle-class woman grown up in Los Angeles with a problematic chidlhood, a cancer-striken mother to support and a mortgage to pay off, engaged in a top damage control Los Angeles firm dealing with the elite. She's also a budding "perfumista", a hobby that will come in handy by the end of the book when fragrance provides a clue. Maggie's toughtest case to date involves senator Henry Paxton, a revered statesman suspected of being involved with his young assistant, when the latter is found dead in her flat. Paxton also happens to be he father of Anabelle, Maggie's estranged best friend from high school. Immersing herself into the case, Maggie gets flooded with memories of her friendship with Anabelle, severed via an unexpected tragedy which marked both. Now that she's back on track with the Paxtons, Maggie must contain the scandal before it explodes beyond control and test the boundaries of friendship once again.

Erotic nuances and flirting with potential killers, psychological insights, ambitions that boil underneath, power struggles and the dirt of top management PR companies are woven expertly into the plot. The time shifting serves as a cubbist's vision into how things got the way they did for Maggie and Anabelle and allows for some twists that have us guessing till the end on who's been nice and who's been seriously naughty.
The writing flows breezinly, shaded with the necessary darkness of the subject, but at the same time illuminated by the courageous, everyday heroism of Maggie who puts herself in harm's way more than she might be expected to given her smarts. Maybe it's the make believe which helps her come through. How else can you explain her poignant impromptu reinvention of her childhood, right at the Paxton's table, giving her alcoholic father the protective mantle of a Hollywood ghost writer?
In some regards we're supposed to identify to some degree with Maggie, who often asks the questions we are asking ourselves pacing through the pages. The language is even poetic in parts, evocative of her feelings and images that take shape and form before our very eyes, without veering into purple.

"Anabelle?

What if she’d crossed the highway to the ocean, swimming out until she drowned? I pictured her body carried on the swell of the waves, arms spread like wings, orange crabs crawling in and out of empty eye sockets, long blond ropes of hair floating like seaweed, a million microscopic sea animals clinging to her curves, illuminating her in a phosphorescent shroud."

Hamilton isn't reinventing the wheel by spluttering the book plot with several scent mentions. Fictional sleuths especially, from Sherlock Holmes and the heroes of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories to modern examples (such as Ruth Rendel's The Rottweiler, where characters wear Jo Malone Tuberose, Charriol’s Tourmaline and Bobbi Brown), have been known to use all five senses to solve a crime. In Agatha Christie’s novel Mrs. McGinty’s Dead,  the murderer sprays someone else’s signature perfume in the room to make the police incriminate someone else instead. But the references by Hamilton aren't just passing snippets; they reappear throughout the plot and resonate with the perfume collector reader. Probably because Denise is actually one of us, her perfume collection accordingly taking a decent portion of her residence. That's why recherché mentions sprinkle the pages, from Serge Lutens Chergui (offered for sniffage to Anabelle by Maggie), or Dior Dune, its trail picked up by Maggie's mother, right through to the heroine's office scent Eau de Guerlain ("just a subtle scent amulet to infuse me with secret grace and power").
Witness the following telling snippet:

Le Boutique was a thrift store. Like many women I knew, I struggled to make ends meet. [...] So, frugalista that I am, I waited for sales and then splurged on basic black and good bras. [...]
At the counter , I browsed the jumble of cheap jewelry and asked to see a box of perfume. It was Chaos by Donna Karan. and smelled smoky, sweet, and spicy. I said I'd think about the 29.95$ price tag (pretty steep for the thrift store).
"Too exotic" I told the clerk as I left ten minutes later, the clothes racks having proved a disappointment.

Back at the office, I found the fragrance had dried down subtle and intriguing -a warm essence of cinnamon and cardamom, musk and lavender. It conjured Southeast Asian bazaars, aromatic oils, harems, Arabian genes emerging from lamps to grant wishes.
 On impulse, I Googled it.
Chaos was discontinued and highly sought after, selling on eBay for hundreds of dollars. Sniffing my wrist again, I revised my initial opinion.  Now I could appreciate its complexity. Shallow and easily swayed, that's me. [from chapter 14]

Hamilton is forthcoming with the challenging characterisations as well, agree or disagree. PR man Bernie Saunders, drawn in darker colours, is wearing Kouros by YSL. "If Satan wore cologne in hell, it would be Kouros". Touché!

The greatest triumph of Denise Hamilton is her Damage Control simultaneously makes you want to slow down and savour it, while at the same time it keeps you on your toes into making it to the end to see what actually happened.
Damage Control [Scribner,  ISBN-10: 0743296745] is available on Amazon and in Amazon Kindle version.

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a copy by the publisher. Author's photo via Bluebird blog

Perfume Book Review: Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez The Little Book of Perfumes/The 100 Classics

Utter the names Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez and a combination of their polarising "Guide's", irrepresible wit and -equally irrepresible- snark, all rolled into one, flash into one's mind like LED-lamps that flicker between a P anode and a N cathode throughout eternity. The reason to read their newest venture isn't quite all of the above, nevertheless: Dropping the snark for a programmatically positive outlook ~The Little Book of Perfumes is all about 5-star perfumes reviews, aka "masterpieces" according to the authors~ they're not simply fawning reviews as met with in other guides, not being short on addressing serious fragrance industry issues either. (After all, if you don't know Luca is rather fond of the smell of Napalm in the morning, you don't know anything yet.)

Although the material is largely taken from the previous Perfumes,The Guide (review here and a small practical note on all the different editions here), serving as a petite compendium or a Xmas gift to spark fun discussion over the course of wine & cheese among people who raise their eyebrows up to their  paretial bone upon hearing you possess a "fragrance collection" ("say what, more than 5???? Why????"), there is a difference: For several of those 96 reviews (more of which below) there is a small 2011 addendum, mostly by Sanchez, that chronicles the evolution that time and IFRA allergens & raw materials regulations have administered to these fragrances. And this is mainly the interest for those who already own a copy of the 2008 book: Staunchy perfume enthusiasts already know most of what's to know about reformulations and search the Net for info regularly. But those who're budding in the aficion will get a kick out of getting their sentiments that "something's not quite right in the frag they loved any more" validated.

All is not bad news, though, in those addenda mentioned, even if heads at Dior almost collectively (and a couple of the PR contigency plan at Guerlain) must be cussing right & left most probably right about now (Well, not really, for the most part the authors proclaim the work rendered "as best as could be under the circumstances"). Some fragrances have in fact upgraded, if that's possible! I specifically mention 96 perfume reviews because 4 out of the 100 are hors catégorie, being reconstructions specifically for L'Osmothèque (thus making them unavailable for purchase). A couple of them featured in the "little book" are still resolutely discontinued (Yohji pour Homme and Le Feu d'Issey for instance or more recently L'Artisan's Vanilia) but hope dies last, in the Turin & Sanchez universe (And why not, I ask you? Fougère Royale 2010 AD I'm not looking at you, don't get any ideas in your silly head!).
So what's left is 90+ reviews of things every perfume enthusiast (and not only) should note down to smell sometime.

The new material includes a foreword by Tania Sanchez (written in good pace perfumista-style and ringing very true) and an essay on the Osmothèque by Luca Turin (in his trademark eloquent polemic, mixing music metaphors and similes which caress the cerebral cortex); there are four reviews of long-lost, beautiful Osmothèque perfumes the authors tested during a presentation on perfume by the brilliant Patricia de Nicolaï, curator of the Osmothèque, at the French Embassy in Washington, DC, organized by Smithsonian Associates. "We give you L’Origan, described by me by LT’s request, and Chypre de Coty, Emeraude and Iris Gris, described by LT at my request" clarifies Tania Sanchez.
The top ten lists (exacted by all publishers worth their print salt, per Tania) have been updated and there is a new "Desert Island" top list for each respective author. I found the added resources & shopping short essay at the end rather meagre, personally (lots of other helpful resource guides are available online), though the Perfumed Court is hailed as a decanting service for when you can't get hold of something any other way and The Perfumer's Apprentice gets a nod for those eager to smell the raw materials themselves.(With which I would urge you should familiarise yourselves, if you're serious about this whole perfume thing)

To make things practical, I have noted down which fragrances are considered to have gotten BETTER/STAYED THE SAME in 2011 than the 2007 sample bottles the writing duo had received (in alphabetical order):

Calandre Paco Rabanne
Cristalle Chanel
Dior Homme
Fracas Piguet
Habit Rouge Guerlain
Jicky Guerlain
Knize Ten
Mitsouko Guerlain
Nahéma Guerlain
Poison Dior
Shalimar Guerlain

And these are the fragrances which are considered to have gotten (somewhat!) WORSE/CHANGED in 2011 than the 2007 sample bottles the writing duo had received (in alphabetical order). Please note, the fragrances below are still considered worthy of inclusion in the compendium of 5-stars:

1740 Histoires de Parfums
Amouage Gold
Après l'Ondée Guerlain
Bois des Iles Chanel
Bois de Violette Serge Lutens
Boucheron Femme
Chamade Guerlain
Cuir de Russie Chanel
Diorella Dior
Dune Dior
Eau de Guerlain
Eau Sauvage Dior
Givenchy III
L'Heure Bleue Guerlain
Iris Silver Mist Serge Lutens
Joy parfum Jean Patou
New York Patricia de Nicolai
No.5 eau de toilette Chanel
No.5 parfum Chanel
Opium Yves Saint Laurent
Pour Monsieur Chanel
Promesse de l'Aube MCDI (attributed to just a faulty batch, though)
The Third Man (Le 3eme Homme) Caron
Vol de Nuit Guerlain

You might have noticed that that makes it roughly 35 "updates" (I excluded a couple, because of simply announcing news of "discontinuation" such as Theo Fennel's Scent or due to ambivalence) and I expect that might get book buyers pondificating the issue. Yet interestingly, there are some surprising results, especially for some perfume lovers who have been disappointed in certain notable classics lately (Shalimar, Cristalle) and can now be enthused anew. But I won't elaborate further; you have to check it out for yourselves!
I will only add that I'm glad Tania added that necessary deterrent on Sécrétions Magnifiques for anyone who couldn't really fathom how such a brave (read: disgusting) scent entered the masterpieces collection, or anyone who might go ahead and spray some on their lapels before going out on a date or job interview, God forbid; "masterpiece" and "pleasant" are not mutually inclusive terms! (And if you disagree, what the hell are you doing reading Turin & Sanchez or this blog?)

The book circulates under two editions: One American by Penguin US, another British by Profile UK. They are exactly the same, as far as I know, but they feature a different cover, as shown on the photo (taken from Tania Sanchez with many thanks)
The US edition is on pre-order on this link. The UK edition is on pre-order on this link. Official date of release is October 31st 2011.