Christos Anesti

The music piece "Christos Anesti" (Resurrection) is performed by Vangelis and sung by actress Irene Papas. Released as part of the 1986 Vangelis CD "Rapsodies". Music & lyrics based on the Greek-Orthodox easter hymn Christos Anesti ("Christ is Risen").
[Originally uploaded by Babylonianman on Youtube].

May you all feel a regeneration in your soul this spring!



The music piece "Christos Anesti" (Resurrection) is performed by Vangelis and sung by actress Irene Papas. Released as part of the 1986 Vangelis CD "Rapsodies". Music & lyrics based on the Greek-Orthodox easter hymn Christos Anesti ("Christ is Risen").
[Originally uploaded by Babylonianman on Youtube].

May you all feel a regeneration in your soul this spring!

The aromata of Greek Easter & a Recipe

It's no hyperbole to say there is no celebration more joyful, more optimistic, more heart-wrenching, in its way, in all of the Greek calendar (and it is already full of those) than Orthodox Easter. The awakening of spring, which sheds its pagan archetypes shining upon everything, is walking hand in hand with the tradition of a pious Christianity that is nevertheless smiling, instead of morose, and lenient, instead of boasting a stern Biblical face.


In the processions of the Holy Week, especially in the sunny, picturesque countryside and on the numerous islands, I can still witness the joie de vivre that can exist only in cultures that have been deprived for long; it is only then that people can appreciate the smalleest pleasures, the generosity of nature itself, the simple human contact that needs no social agenda whatsoever. Man is enjoying life, much like he did in the classical era, because he's not entirely convinced there will be a better one, even though the prospect of one delights his soul through the promise of spring's and Christ's resurgence. In Greece where the National Revolution also symbolically sprang along with the first throes of spring, resurgence takes on a loaded nuance: the soul fills with renewed courage for every hardship ahead.

The spring air is aromatized with fragrant effluvia from trees and plants, an intoxicating bouquet that is hard to forget: bigaradiers with orange blossoms in full bloom, bushes of lilacs (called Πασχαλιά/Pashalia in Greek because they bloom exactly during the month of April, when Pasha is celebrated), violets in deep shades but also stocks (Mathiola longipetala) with their spicy, skatole-rich, intense aroma. Dill, thyme, spearmint and humble chamomille are beginning to make the countryside smell like a giant pasture or one enormous kitchen herbs cabinet.
And of course food, glorious food: from red Easter eggs, which make households smell of vinegar and onion peel (traditionally used to "anchor" the dye on the hand-painted egg) as they're prepared on the eve of Good Friday, to the succulent, sweet, cardamom-laced Eastern bread which whets the appetite for the feast of Sunday.

Greek Easter is a Dionysian celebration...

The following recipe, characteristic of spring herbs and traditions in Greece, is of Tzeeyerosarmades/Τζιγεροσαρμάδες: Tzeeyeri means internal organs and is a Turkish word, metaphorically used as an affectionate term for children, as those come indeed from a mother's insides. Sarmas (pl. sarmades) is anything closed up in a small handful "pocket" container, a cook term that is quite usual in other recipes of the Mediterranean region as well.
The dish is cholesterol ahoy, full as it is with lamb organs and animal fat, but its aromatic bouquet of the herbs of Greek spring, dill, spearmint and fresh green onions, is mouthwatering. I suggest you accompany it with a good dry red. As it is a mainstay in our family's Eastern table, our usual coupling is with a tannin-rich full-bodied Xinomauro variety from where the recipe originates from: the northern extremeties of Greek soil, the plains of southern, Greek Macedonia.



Tzigerosarmades (Tzee-ye-ro-saMA-des) from Greek Macedonia

You will need for 6-8 persons:

the internal organs of 2 lambs (offal, but essentially liver, spleen, heart, lungs, kidneys and throughly cleansed~with a knitting needle~ intenstines; you might skip the intestines if it makes you uncomfrotable)
the peritonium of 2 lambs, removed by a skilled butcher with much care (you want it to be as uniformand unbroken as possible)
3 whole eggs, preferably free-range
1 egg yolk for smearing at the finish
1 dry onion, chopped in small pieces
3-4 bunches of "fresh green onions"/shallots with their stems
3/4 cup of Karolina rice (a variety used in "gemista" or substitute with parlboiled rice)
1 small bunch of fresh dill
1 small bunch of fresh spearmint
salt and pepper to taste
a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin olive oil

Optional, to accompany the dish: a few potatoes for roasting and dry oregano, chopped garlic and lemon juice for the potatoes

1. Put the carefully cleansed intenstines, liver, spleen, lungs and kidneys of the lamb into boiling water and let them boil for a few minutes, until relatively firm.
2. Drain and chop finely (not bigger than a small hazelnut) all of it. Put aside.
3. Take a large, deep pan and put a couple of spoonfuls of extra virgin oil in it, over low fire. Put the two kinds of onions/shallots finely chopped in it. Put the finely chopped dill and spearmint as well. Stir for a little while until they become transparent.
4. Put the chopped livers etc., the rice, salt and pepper and let the mix cook on low stove until the rice is cooked thoroughly.
5. In the meantime, put the peritonium membrane in warm weather so it expands and softens and becomes pliable like an elastic membrane (which it is essentially). When ready, drain and open up on a clean surface. You want to cut pieces of it, as large as your palm or a small hankerchief.
6. Return to the pan and break the 3 eggs and stir gently. Leave it on the stove for a minute more, then withdraw.
7. You are now ready to fill the little "pieces" of the membrane. Put about a spoonful of the mix in each and gently close them with ends tucked on the underside. They should resemble round patties of about 8-10 cm circumference. Put one by one in a big ovenproof pan and very gently brush them with egg yolk diluted in a few drops of water (this will give a fine glaze!).
Optional step: If you want you might put some chopped potatoes around or in the middle, salted & peppered and sprinkled with chopped garlic, dried oregano and lemon juice; they accompany the dish just fine. They don't need any cooking oil, because the fat from the meat will nicely get into their flesh and make them "honied".
8. Roast the dish slowly in the oven at no more than 150C mark until the membrane has become golden and lightly crisp. If you have put potatoes in, the potatoes might need a bit more time to get done, so put a piece of aluminum foil over the tzeeyerosarmades in case they dry up too much in the process.

Serve hot with sprinkled lemon juice or accompany with strained Greek yoghurt, which provides the essential backdrop of something cool and tangy. Accompany with a good, dry red wine rich in tannins to cut the "fat" and possibly a fresh strawberry dessert that will cleanse the palate, toasting to the gods of Greek hospitality. And resist the urge to lick your fingers!

Photo of Spring in ancient Olympia in the Peloponnese, Greece by azbeen, via wooz.gr. Photo of sarmades via argiro.gr

Mapping Scents of Spirituality

While I am sitting on my desk with the open window rushing in the fragrant air full with the blossoms of bigaradier and the trembling dew of spring on them, my elderflower cordial by my side, I am thinking of how this Good Friday reminds me of Good Fridays past, those of my formative years and the thoughts that accompanied them.

I recall as a teenager sitting on the old, wooden pew and smelling the luminous, Byzantine, old church. Not only the predictable incence smoking in the cencers; neither the peeling varnish off the old egg tempera icons, nor the slight mustiness of the corners of the rugs on the floor where feet slightly wet from the spring showers had walked on; not even the flowers garlanding the "epitafios", the symbolic deathbed of Jesus: lilacs and narcissi (it was a country church; in the city it's lilies and roses). It was the assembly itself emitting its own smell of humanity and through it all a familiar smokish vanilla with slight accents of the inside of an old leather handbag. The scent assaulted my nostrils with the vexing pang of unidentified familiarity. I couldn't place it...And then out of blue the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks: Shalimar! Some unidentified woman wearing that most carnal oriental, bronzy like the candelabras that burned over our heads bearing the history of centuries. It puzzled me...

Good Friday is traditionally a day of abstinence, often subsisting on nothing but bread and water. And yet, here there was a carnal scent reminding me of non spiritual matters on that day. This chasm between the spiritual and the carnal is at the heart of matter. If Orthodoxy is antithetical to the Protestant faith in embracing the most humane of our faults while at the same time not granting the forgiveness that is so tangibly accessible in the confessional of Catholisism, how is it even possible that the carnal is so much accepted? How can the pleasure of the senses subsist into the celebration of the celebral and the divine?
But the Pagan survival in almost everything involving the rituals I remember is omnipresent: The beeswax candles that drip on the sand trays where old people stick them decisively yet with trembling hands, the wine that gets spilled on the floor as a tribute to the power of mother earth, the fires lain on the street of the castello fortified villages on the top of the Greek islands and the purotechnics shot on Easter's Eve midnight with their sulphurous smell...And most importantly, the death of the young god whose resurrection in the middle of nature's releafing is the return of Dionysus.
When my steps in assorted historical pursuits later took me to "ascetaria" (places of hermites) the myrrh exuded off the craggy walls of the caves stopped me in my tracks with its beauty and its caressing of the senses. How a person who lived on faith and little else could emit such a strong smell of holiness, and on top of that how could this smell be so pleasurable? Isn't sanctity synonymous to refusal? The question bugged me for long and it lay hidden at a corner of my mind, peaking its thorny head from time to time when an occassionary excess of the flesh filled me with an unexplicable sense of sorrow and unfullfilment. How could the Dionysian and the Appolonian, the Cthonic and the Olympian, coexist in a single soul?

Years enriched me with experiences and my dreary feet took me to various places with spiritual connotations. To the Bangkok Buddist temples with their serene smoke and the colourful blanket of different races entering and leaving, their skins and breaths speaking of exotic fruits of far away origin and pungent fish-soup. To the Great Mosque at Cordoba, Spain where Muslims kneeled beneath the pointy minarets, their clothes and bodies bearing the scented traces of lives lived beneath shady patios where the jasmine vines grow rampant. To the mahleb and cardamom smelling bakeries of Istanbul preparing the yummy desserts of the holy days, bought by Christians and Muslims alike, and the street vendors on Boğaziçi Köprüsü selling salep and salty mackerels to ease the hunger of the tourists. To the foreboding Minster in Ulm, Germany, its vertical majesty evoking thoughts of awe, where people pin little prayers on the cork board beginning "Liebe Gott" and the aroma of Eau de Cologne on the hands of the waiters in the cafeteria across the square. To the colourful vitraux of the York Minster, England, where the humidity of the soil and the sharp northern lights of the sky cannot hide the splendour of the roses blooming in the church yard and the women who stooped to smell them going out of the vesper service. To the modern synagogues of the East Coast of the US where kindly people share their cookies recipes in hushed whispers, whetting my appetite for culinary escapades upon returning home. And coming full circle, to immigrant familiar Greek churches in Melbourne, Australia, where the familiar, thick and smoky stench of Easter "lamb on a spit" roasting is never farther than a stone's throw away and where the whole street down the neighrhood is invited to the feas, no matter their adherent religion.

Because spirituality, I finally realised, is independent of religion and cannot be experienced if one has not first embraced all that this wonderful, this amazingly rich and truly wonderful life has to ferret: the good and the bad and the thorny. And the fragrant.



The kontakion "Ω γλυκύ μου έαρ" (My sweet spingtime) was written by Saint Romanus the Melodus in the 6th century AD and is the standard song of the Good Friday street procession throughout Greece.

Pics via greekingreece.gr, amorgos.blogs.gr, lovingit.co.uk

Incense week: 7.Pyrocaustic deep incense for Easter's Eve

 Editor's preface: If you haven't the faintest idea why a series of posts on incense scents mentions religious stuff and cultural associations, please refer to the first post of this Incense Week series to understand my concept. 


Here you can find post 2, post 3, post 4, post 5 and post 6 before final 7th post below.

Holy Saturday is the day between Jesus’ death and His resurrection, so the day is full of watchful expectation, mourning slowly transformed into joy. The day embodies in the fullest possible sense a joyful-sadness. On Great and Holy Saturday morning, the Orthodox Church commemorates Christ’s decent into Hades and the releasing of the souls of all who were held captive by death. An explosion takes place, the Hymns tell us that "Hades lets out a groan", as the doors to Hades (the otherworld of greek mythology) are blown open and the "locks and chains" used to imprison the souls are tossed aside and rendered useless as Jesus raises the dead and resurrects them all.

The hymnographer of the Church has penetrated this profound mystery through the following poetic dialogue that he has devised between Jesus and His Mother:

“Weep not for me, O Mother, beholding in the sepulcher the Son whom thou hast conceived without seed in thy womb. For I shall rise and shall be glorified, and as God I shall exalt in everlasting glory those who magnify thee with faith and love.”
"O Son without beginning, in ways surpassing nature was I blessed at Thy strange birth, for I was spared all travail. But now beholding Thee, my God, a lifeless corpse, I am pierced by the sword of bitter sorrow. But arise, that I may be magnified."
"By mine own will the earth covers me, O Mother, but the gatekeepers of hell tremble as they see me, clothed in the blood-stained garment of vengeance: for on the Cross as God have I struck down mine enemies, and I shall rise again and magnify thee."

Christ might also be seen as observing a Sabbath rest in the tomb.

What is even more interesting and justifies the choices of perfumes for this special day is the way Easter is celebrated in Greece in particular. Easter and the promise of resurrection were from ancient times tied to the pagan spring fests that celebrated the god Dionysus. However during the Ottoman occupation for all those long centuries, when religion was a binding force between communities, the meaning of resurrection got another nuance: that of an upcoming revolution against the foreign oppressor. The underground revolutionaries of the 18th century that were preparing the National Revolution that would start in 1821 were using the code words said on Easter’s Eve from one Christian to the other: “Christ is Risen!” (Christos anesti) to which the reply is till now “ Truly He is Risen!” (aleethos anesti). That promise of an up rise kept them going. And when finally they did easter was celebrated with gunsshots and fireworks and crackers and lots of noise, just like the tradition remains today almost 2 centuries after that to still remind us of the joy over the double resurrection: that of Christ and of Greece.


So on Easter’s Eve, there is one of the most characteristic celebrations of the nation: the midnight service marks the beginning of celebration as hundreds of crackers and fireworks burst in the cool night air for the people watching gathered outside the church, waiting to hear the priest utter the magical phrase: “Christ has risen!” and the bells starting to toll happily and loudly alongside the crackers. At that moment everyone kisses each other and wishes them Happy Easter with a smile; they light their long white candles and lanterns with the holy light which is brought out from the church. Hundreds of people in the middle of the night, cradling those tiny flames, the flames they are supposed to bring back home, to illuminate it with holy light, the lux that is so revered and so in the core of greek life, as it also recalls the Olympic flame which was lit with a mirror in ancient Olympia in honour of the life giving god Apollo.
A mystical happy procession of people walking back, ready to sit at the table with family and friends and click their red eggs saying those old code words of the revolution and eating the traditional dish “mayiritsa”, a very yummy soup made of lamb innards/guts (liver, spleen and lung) seasoned with dill, fresh shallots and onion in a juice of lemon and eggs; the official end of Lent.
You can get a glimpse and a recipe here.

On Corfu island in particular there is this popular tradition that is a sight for all foreigners visiting:
The most famous tradition is taking place all over the Island, in the Holy Saturday at 11 a.m. when the first bell of the First Resurrection is heard. At that time local people throw pots out of their windows, smashing them onto the streets below. Those special made ceramic pots, called "botides" can be more than 1 meter tall and they are filled with water to make a louder crash. The noisy custom lasts for 3-5 minutes and is watched by thousands of people, mostly tourists, as Corfu is the most popular destination in Greece for Easter holidays.
There are different theories about the origin and the explanation of this custom. The first explanation for the custom has a religious meaning, as a representation of the Evangelic books that refers to the resurrection of Jesus Christ with the words: "Resurrect o Lord and crush them as ceramic utensils". The second explanation gives to the custom a Venetian origin, as Venetians ruled the Island in 15th and 16th century : it is a variation of an old Venetian custom of new years eve, where they used to through old stuff from the window, so that the new year will bring then new ones. And the third one gives it a pagan provenance, as Easter time is the time when nature starts its new year and re-awakens after winter.(from www.panoramas.dk)
On the island of Spetses, there is a re-enactement of the victorious burning of the turkish fleet by greek revolutionaries, a spectacle of great interest.


For such a special night I have chosen incense perfumes that bear a relation with the night, with bonfires, with fireworks, with the joy of celebration and the awe instilled by the sense of remembrance.

Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque: Exactly the pyrocaustic smell of bonfires and fireworks, burned wood and light processions of people on the night’s breeze. Created by Olivia Giacobetti with the collaboration of John Galliano himself (who would have thought it of him?) and a great success in my opinion. Although technically a room spray, accompanied in the line’s catalogue by a matching candle, I have used this as a personal fragrance on the back of my hands with no ill results. At least I am still alive to tell the tale….
Deep, dark, smoky embers still illuminated from an inner spark, a little musty and with lots of backbone, it reminds me of the celebrations of midnight. The invocation of church is there, incense taking a turn for the bittersweet, lots of woody ambience, like standing with a candle close to freshly waxed wooden pegs (don’t tentatively burn them to see how they smell though if you’re to be thought of as a good Christian!). Dried bitter orange leaves like the ones scattered on the church floor for the congregation to pick up and get back home to put tucked at the backside of Byzantine icons with austere and spiritual faces. Completely unisex and individual for brave souls who want to venture the extra mile and raise a few eyebrows in the process. A favourite!


Messe de Minuit by Etro: Although this is traditionally thought of as cold and detached, I have noticed that it blooms best in warmer weather in which it reveals a herbal and spicy character that is not present in colder climes.
It starts very damp and musty and even citrus , with a scent that reminds me of raw pleurotus mushrooms left in the fridge for a while It becomes quite spicy and deeper with myrrh (or is it amber?) and sweetens considerably. And it also becomes earthy and “dirty” The incense note is not very evident as such to me. At least it’s not like any incense I am used to which I have described in Avignon. It doesn’t have that rich and resiny, sweet but smoky quality that I usually associate incense with. It is as if the remnants of incense smoke have settled down and been dampened in a old paleochristianic temple. No holy smell, no passage of angels, no spiritual elevation. On the contrary, this is an abandoned abode, a lonely place deserted by man and God that has been festering demons and evil spirits , unhealthy and perverse, vampiric even like a character from an Anne Rice novel . I can definitely see the face of the Antichrist in the background….
Which begs the question why pick such an evil association for such a day…Well, but it is the day of entering Hades after all. And the name which means Midnight service in French is exactly when I wear it, which makes it all the more poignant and introspective full of devoutness despite its intentions. Supposedly loved by Sophia Loren and I can understand how an Italian lady would also like this for those occasions.

Parfum Sacre by Caron: The modern take on what Or et Noir was in the classic line-up of Caron, as discussed yesterday and a bit more festive than the former, hence my inclusion of it here today. The bracing top of evident pepper and lemony tones give way to spices such as mace and cardamom with their middle-eastern ambience, while discreet garlands of rose, jasmine and orange blossom make a swift appearance, then surrender to the plush embrace of dominant myrrh and frankincense with lashings of civet, rosewood, cedar and a little vanilla.
In short one of the few Carons that like me because I do not get the musty rose accord that becomes insufferable on my skin. The whole smells mystical, sophisticated and quite elegant with a touch of the festive, a slight powdery feel like that encountered in classic Guerlains or Chanel fragrances. Really vintage in feel, because who would have thought this came out in the 1990’s? Terrifically long lasting in eau de parfum as well and with a sillage that remains good-mannered but will get you elegantly noticed. Recommended.


Top pic courtesy of trekearth.com, bottom pic by greekcity.com.au

Incense week: 6.Solemn, mournful incense for Good Friday

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This day is marked by solemn observations in memory of Jesus' crucifixion. Christians believe that Jesus thus accomplished reconciliation between God and man. Accordingly the crucified image of Jesus or, even the cross itself, came to be regarded as the main symbol of faith for Christians.
Roman Catholics as well as Orthodoxs observe the day through fast and abstinence to commemorate the pains and sufferings Jesus underwent on the cross so it is a day of mourning. The communion of the Eucharist is suspended.

Good Friday first came to be observed as a separate occasion in early 4th century. Before this, an annual celebration was held as Christian Passover, or, Pascha (deriving from the Hebrew Pesach), to mark both Christ's death on Cross and the Resurrection.
Our Lord is crucified. In the iconography of the crucifixion there is a number of people that are often depicted together: three women together with the Theotokos (=mother of god) ~Saint Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children (Matthew 27:56)
Saint John the Beloved Disciple is usually placed right of the cross. While Saint Longinus the Centurion, the Roman centurion mentioned in Saint Mark's Gospel account of the Crucifixion (Mark 15:39) can also be present. There is an inscription on the top bar of the Cross that reads I.N.B.I., the initials of the Greek words meaning "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." While at the foot of the Cross, we can see often a skull because Golgotha, the Mount of the Crucifixion, means 'the place of the skull." Tradition relates that the Cross of Christ stood directly above the grave of Adam.

In orthodox tradition evening service concerns the recounting of the 12 Gospel lessons. The first one, from the Gospel of John (13.21-18), relates the account of the Lord’s discourse with the disciples at the Last Supper. The next ten Gospel readings deal with accounts of the Lord’s sufferings as told by the apostles. The last one gives an account of the Lord’s burial and the sealing of the Tomb. The response after each gospel reading is a variation of the usual one: "Glory to Your forbearance, Lord, Glory to You."
On the morning of the day each church makes its own epitaph bed for the dead Jesus: a cradle of icons and fresh spring flowers that young women have gathered and put on it: in cities and towns these are roses, lilies and freesias. In country churches it is usually lilacs and violets. People come in the church during the morning to pay their respects and the atmosphere is heavy with the heady blooms, head spinning from the incense burning and the flowers exuding their last breaths on the death bed.
In cities the epitaph exits the church on an evening parade to be joined with other epitaph beds from other parishes on a common meeting point, where people gather holding dark yellow beeswax candles as the only source of light, awaiting. The procession comes holding the holy symbols first, the epitaph bed next full of flowers that are sprinkled on the congregation and the mayor’s band last playing solemn funeral marches as people sing the ancient lament “ Oh, my sweet spring”; supposedly the lament of the Virgin Mary for her son on the cross, one of the most beautiful of greek orthodox hymnography, recalling the death of nature and its subsequent resurgence upon spring's awakening.

"Oh my sweet spring, my most sweet child,
where did your beauty set?"
You can listen to it or clicking here. or directly here:



In Salonica the town’s band customarily plays Funeral March by Chopin before that.

It is also usual in country churches to go through an elaborate and mystical procession before reading the twelfth gospel lesson at the evening service. The experience is really hair raising and deeply moving, even if one is not religious. The procession of the holy symbols, the cross and the icons carried on long poles, followed by the epitaph bed, by young people dressed in black exits the church and the great gates are firmly closed. They remain outside until the reading of the twelfth gospel lesson, upon which they knock on the gate representing Jesus knocking on the gates of Death, three times. On each knock a blessing is heard from the priest inside who denies however entrance. Utter silence in the congregation, who is watching solemnly in the cold evening spring air. As the last uttering from the priest inside is heard, the head of the procession opens the gate entering saying in a high voice “Open for the king of life”.

It is also interesting to note one particular custom on the island of Santorini (and other islands on the Aegean): as the up most parts of the isles had fortified villages, “castra”,for fear of pirates pillaging through the land in medieval times, (just like in Pyrgos on said island), those have narrow pathways of winding roads that have only one exit and entrance. On the corners of the streets, up on the barricades, great lanterns and bonfires are lit while every other light is turned off so that the whole village seems to have sprung up from Polanski’s The Ninth Gate. The sight is bewitching and breathtaking…

For such a powerfully symbolic day I chose sad, mournful incense fragrances with a deep floral background to them to reminiscence of all those associations I have with the day.

Avignon by Comme des Garcons: What could be more appropriate, more solemn, more sad and elating at the same time than this completely realistic catholic/orthodox incense smell? Named after the French city in which there was a second Pope instituted after an inside dispute in the Catholic Church in the middle-ages, it evokes phantasms of such a dark time. Full of the aroma of pure frankincense it is redolent of childhood memories of smoke rising from the censers, priests dressed in all black, Byzantine churches hidden under the barricades of an old city-fort and the far away smell of flowers in the night air. Beautifully contemplating, deeply moving, heady in its thickness. It is rather difficult to wear as a personal scent, because of its pungency and potency, at least the ordinary way (spritz, spritz, woosh…) but it can be dabbed a little on hands to make one fit the mood of such a day or sprayed lightly in the room to bring a glimpse of High Mass with them. It represents the pic I chose like nothing else can.

Incensi by Lorenzo Villoresi: A rich and pungent incense scent that is very churchy in a delightful way, laced with sweet and dry notes throughout. Church pews and freshly waxed floors, golden chandeliers and low light reflections on the somber faces on the icons, this is an Italian incense to be sure and it shows. The opening is rather dry with a touch of bergamot and probably elemi, coming to the fore, while the unfolding upon drying down on the skin is full of drama and with a discernible touch of spice in the form of beloved cinnamon and ginger with powdery accents, Incensi floats in the night air like the spell of another world, luring us into a world of mysticism and apocryphal meanings. Although this one has no apparent floral notes, its character reminds me of church processions and the mournful music they’re accompanied with, hence I include it.
The gorgeous blue bottle it comes in is like the window pane of a cathedral, all shine and mystery. Very long lasting, so it is a good investment despite the high price.

Or et Noir by Caron: The predecessor of modern Parfum Sacrι, Or et Noir is a classic Caron that makes no compromises on the challenging accords of must and powder in its rendition of the rose. Opening on a strong note of geranium this is garlanded with intense oily rose, some lilac, spicy carnation and a whisper of incense to render the whole quite close to an epitaph procession, young girls raining tear soaked petals upon the bystanders who whisper blessings along the way.
The name might be a little far-fetched as it is neither gold (Or) nor dark (noir) really compared to other incense fragrances, however its contemplative nature and deep character are very pronounced.
Chanel #22 is also a floral with a hint of incense in the background, but where that one is a light and airy, cheerful, lovely composition, this one is sacred and deep with a much more mature character.
Available only in parfum concentration in the Caron urns (those Baccarat crystal samovars that contain the precious essences) at the boutiques, it is hard to find and maybe challenging to wear for most, however no Good Friday procession would be complete without it.



Pyrocaustic incense for bonfires for our next instalment.
Pic is from the Knights Templar castle that surrounds the medieval city in Rhodes, Greece.

Incense week: 5.Somber meditative incense for Maundy Thursday

This day, three days prior to the Resurrection, is the day that Christ washed the feet of his disciples and shared his last meal with them, known as The Last Supper, a spartan course upon which he said: "Take, eat; this is my body. Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins." Thus establishing the Eucharist and Communion for all Christians thereafter who reenact that Last Supper. In cathedral churches it is the custom for the bishop, to re-enact the footwashing in a special ceremony following the Divine Liturgy.

"Maundy" as it is generally referred to derives from the word mandate, or commandment. That’s because after Jesus washed his disciples' feet, he commanded them to do the same for one another. (John 13:34 :"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another.")

On this day in greek orthodox doctrine we paint the eggs which are traditionally red like the poppies of the field which were supposedly spilled with Christ’s blood, hence they became red (they were formerly white, or so the tale goes). The dyes used are mixed in vinegar which is also reminiscent of the vinegar proffered to Jesus on the cross by the roman soldier who made fun of him when he asked for water. Everything is symbolic, it seems. Egg is often regarded as a symbol of birth and fertility in many cultures or of the cosmos. As it contains life and food to feed it as well, it is a potent means of reminding us of the resurgence of spring and the reproduction of flora and fauna around us. It is even viewed as a symbol of the soul, which was aptly exploited in Alan Parker's 1987 film Angel Heart in which Rober de Niro as the devil himself, devours a whole egg with alarming cool recounting this exact belief.
In medieval Europe, eggs were forbidden during Lent, so it was a prized treat for children on Easter and indeed that is why eggs are offered to children today, even if they take the form of chocolate ones. Eggs were also painted bright colors (red is the traditional one like mentioned) to resemble springtime and the new life it offers. For that last reason lovers often exchanged eggs, similar to Valentine's Day cards today. In ancient Europe, eggs of different colours were taken from nests of various birds as they were prized in the making of talismans. The eggs were often ritually eaten too. The search through the forests for eggs gradually evolved into the habit of the Easter egg hunt, and painted eggs eventually replaced wild birds' eggs. You can read more on the decorated easter egg and its history here and here.
When we sit on the table after Saturday’s midnight service we clink each other’s red egg and he who manages to get his/hers unscathed is proclaimed winner. It’s as if they have preserved the valuable life and they’re now free to consume it and gain strength by it. An endearing tradition….

Maundy Thursday is also the day before crucifixion, when Jesus went to pray alone to gain strength before his ordeal and so it is somber, meditative and melancholy to me. For that reason I picked up incense scents that seem centered, a bit sparse in their character and that could instill an introspective mood of spirituality.

Encens et Lavande by Serge Lutens: The introspection of incense coupled with the clean, sparse atmosphere of lavender. The latter is making a quick and medicinal appearance upon hitting the skin, a clean, nose-decongesting aroma that is usually not what I enjoy and quite different than the lavender of Gris Clair which begins on an antithetical course. There is also the hint of sage, a herbal smell that could be very well remind one of that land where Jesus prayed in the cool air of the night. Incense is light in this fragrance and it takes a somber, smoky, whispery, slightly orientalistic take thanks to light amber that is left on the skin for some time while lavender has evaporated. As if you’re inhaling the aroma of a cloth that has been smoked in the white smoke of an outside burning chalice. I find this an excellent perfume for meditation and it calls upon all calm and collected thoughts.

Bois d’encens by Armani Prive: If we are to forgive mr.Armani for his trespasses discussed yesterday, like we expect to be forgiven for ours, it is thanks to this little gem in his Private collection, bottled into an architectural modern Kotibe wood column of a bottle, topped with a dark red “pebble” . A clean smoky incense that wafts from the forests on the cool wintery air is the impression this makes. In the spirit of Avignon, yet lighter, not as thick and with less staying power which is an utter shame for the hundreds of bucks this goes for, it is easily wearable by anyone who is willing to take a plunge n the mysterious world of incense and does not make difference between the sexes either. The background of lots of cedars smelled from a distance is enough to make one appreciate the austere nature of such a perfume.

Encens Mystic by Crazy Libellule and the Poppies: This relatively new and refreshingly inexpensive French brand is rippling the waters with their fun, cute, completely adorable little solid perfume sticks like lippies that come in many different permutations, collected into three lines: Shanghaijava (with oriental and woody scents), Les Divines Alcoves (with scents of musk and flowers) and Poule de Luxe (comprising scents of unapologetically gourmand tendencies). From their Shanghaijava line Encens Mystic is truly exceptional and really smells more expensive than the mere amount asked (11 pounds on hqhair.com). Being a solid it has the tendency to wear closely to the body and with good tenacity, encompassing notes of Myrrh, Frankincense, Benzoin, Patchouli , clove, a hint of vanilla and Cedar. The result is a rich, pungent incense fragrance that smells like the Incense Series by Comme des Garcons or close to Black Cashmere by Donna Karan. The wax smell is simply non apparent which is a plus for a solid and the pungency of the notes makes a brilliant juxtaposition with floaty clothes and smooth hair. I find it mystical, like its name suggests and quite poised and a delightful surprise to come out of a new house with no credentials of grandeur. For so few bucks a pop it shouldn’t really pose a doubt as to whether it’s worth purchasing. Just do it.

Next intalment talks about deep and solemn incense.

Painting of The Last supper by Carl Bloch courtesy of Carlbloch.com

Incense week: 4.Traitorous incense for Holy Wednesday

Most people know Judas Iscariot as the classic traitor, the archetype of such a justifiably hateful character: crossing his master for 30 pieces of silver, betraying him with a kiss. It is such a fixed notion in pop culture that we see references of that very act of betrayal in balkan folk verse to U2 songs.
It is also no accident that in many Christian communities there is the tradition of burning a representation of Judas before the Resurrection. Great attention is put into the comparison of the sinful woman who is saved to the chosen apostle who is lost in the scriptures.
In short Judas is doomed. Os is he?

Villains are always exciting characters to follow in literature and if one -like Nietzsche, who by the way was the son of a man of religion (it figures!) - takes an interest in the scriptures solely in their literature capacity and not their alleged apocalyptical meaning, one sees that a proper drama requires at least one capable villain. All the more power to him if there is the possibility of him falling from grace in the end bringing the much needed aristotelic katharsis.
The mention that Judas was of a prominent Judaic family and that he was educated, in sharp contrast to most of the other apostles, is something that does not –in my mind- preclude innocent and coincidental associations. It seems to me that there is an underlying effort to stress that the new emerging religion, Christianity, is thus targeted to the socially and economically unprivileged, whose vast numbers guarantee a great success and a rapid spread of the new word of course. But let’s not be so cynical…

However the recent revelation of the lost Gospel of Judas reveals a different facet of the man that is perhaps even more intriguing. That of the misunderstood here, the one who must bear a cross of his own (as does any man, really), the one who is chosen above others to bring about the difficult task that is needed to bring about salvation through resurrection. In his own words Judas Iscariot talks about how he has been guided by Jesus himself who revealed to him the demanded task: to betray him, Jesus so as to affirm his rule of death and convince the world of his divinity. Although this last part does not shed a favourable light on Jesus (who is basically dooming a simple man to promote his own end) and therefore it has been vehemently denied by the official dogma of the church leaving the study of the gospel to the hands of historians and not theologists, it is so very meaningful and implicating that it requires its own path of thought.
Of course Judas’ gospel is not the only lost one….In fact there are many, one of which is Mary Magdalene’s one. But the subject of any strong faith getting stronger by crashing any notion of weakness is a vast one and the place is not appropriate here to embark on such deep waters.

I have picked nevertheless a handful of tricky, misunderstood incense fragrances that reflect the misapprehension we sometimes reserve for that which we deem fixed idea, just like we have possibly done to Judas.

Snake Oil by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab: It’s hard to pass up such a great opportunity to talk about this one with the eminently appropriate name. I assure you nevertheless that it is as much chosen for its ability to smell different on each separate application rendering the poor wearer crazy with anticipation on how it will evolve upon the skin. The thick smokiness of the incense cut with a smidgeon of citrus mingles with earthy, dirty notes of patchouli and musk into a symphony of darkness that seems quite potent at first.
As it is quite medicinal when fresh, it tends to mellow and gain complexity and sweetness as the ageing process is on its way; and indeed like a good wine it gains the veil of vanillic warmth that makes it seem much more innocent and lovable than it is, much like those misunderstood characters that we hate we love. Quite strong it is also considered by some to be sexy. Don’t count me in the latter group but thought you might want to know.

Mania by Armani: Why is this one surfacing into a post about incense and traitorous scents, you might ask. You do have a point. It is mr.Armani, bless him chuckling in his tailored sleeves, who is the traitor. Because he had the nerve to discontinue the old slightly masculine, incensy musky and woody version of the scent with that name bottled in a grey bottle with an anthracite cap and replace it with a common pink fruity floral that’s a dime a dozen with a beige cap. For shame, mr. Armanis. For shame!

Incense by Norma Kamali: Take your pills (every one you’ve ever been presecribed, you’ll need those suckers) and slowly, tentatively inhale this mysterious, intense potion. You will find yourself in a swirl wind of such mental turmoil that the afore-mentioned Nietzsche’s troubles will seem like child’s play to you. Prepare yourself for a dose of South American resin, copal, that is completely traitorous to the canonical frankincense and myrrh of more conventional incense-centered perfumes. The northern Lacandón Maya of lowland Chiapas in southern Mexico offered copal incense (pom) to their gods, a material made from the resin of the pitch pine (Pinus pseudostrobus). Norma Kamali is transporting us into a pagan ritualistic celebration like the religious iconoclast that is the theme of the day. Tread with caution; it can’t be stressed enough!


Next instalment -with yet a different spin- to come up shortly!

Pic comes from the film Zwartboek courtesy of Athinorama.

Incense week: 3.Lush sinful incense for Holy Tuesday

As today the religious theme is the vigilance of the wise virgins who were ready for Jesus and the repentance of sinners, as reflected in the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her hair and anointed them with myrrh, I decided to attribute incense scents that have a rich, feminine, lush nature to them and which would not be far off the notion of a sinner, repentant or not.
In greek orthodox church today on holy Tuesday "The Hymn of Kassiane", a woman who became a nun in her later life and a famous hymnograph, is being chanted: “Lord, the woman caught up in a multitude of sins, sensing Your divinity, assumes the perfumer’s role; lamenting, she provides myrrh in anticipation of Your burial. “Alas!” she cries, “for me night is a frenzy of excess, dark and moonless, a love affair with sin. You draw from the clouds the waters of the sea; will You accept the fountainhead of my tears?”
(translation from Hellenic Koine {=greek}to English by saintbarbara.org).

The tale of Kassiane herself, an educated aristocrat of her time that was to be the Byzantine emperor’s bride, only to be refuted for her intelligence and quick wit, is touching.
The tale recounted here goes thus:

“Church history becomes aware of her when she lived in Constantinople and was a regular attendant at the Royal Court of Emperor Theophilos whose mother, Euphrosene, saw in the brilliant and beautiful Kassiane a very likely candidate to become the bride of her son. The field of eligible young women narrowed down to Kassiane and another lovely girl named Theodora who hailed from Paphlogenia, apparently from a ranking family of the Empire. The final choice was to be made by the young Emperor who elected to have both the girls brought before him so that a final comparison and decision could be made. Since both were extremely attractive, the choice was not an easy one; but the one thing that Theophilos wanted to make certain that his bride not exceed him intellect.
In a custom that dated back to the Persians, years before the formation of the Byzantine Empire, a golden apple was to be given to the one who was to be the Empress. Looking at Kassiane, the Emperor stated, “From woman came the worst in the world” (meaning Eve and her original sin). Kassiane calmly replied, “From woman also came the best” (referring to the Virgin Mary who bore the Son of God”). The issue was settled then and there, and Theodora got the golden apple.”

The first thing that came into my mind therefore recalling both intelligence, rich depth and mysterious incense was Angelique Encens by Creed. As I have already embarked on a full review of it here, I won’t elaborate too much. Suffice to repeat that it is a dark, resinous oriental potion redolent of angelical demons who smell sweet and enticing, marrying angelica with the plush of vanilla and incense, hinting at the carnality of tuberose, but never succumbing to its full spectre. It has been suggested to me to try to layer it with Tabarome, also by Creed and I find that it takes an even more sinister touch that is positively addictive. The elixir of a sinner who wants to repent, deep down.

Amir by Laura Tonnato: Another lush incense perfume that has a rich heart and base of resins that fan out in velvety amber like a modern interpretation of Obsession. The presence of smoke and spice is evident although the opening stage might seem quite medicinal, but as it dissipates one is met with a mature beauty of creamy darkness. Feminine and ready for the plucking quite unapologetically. Frankincense adds mystery and you can imagine this worn before a blazing fire in a country house somewhere exotic during the winter. As the embers die away it retains its air of seduction and panache making your presence unforgettable.

Tolu by Ormonde Jayne: In a line that was sadly full of misses for me for some reason despite the undeniable innovation and good ingredients Tolu was the exception. An amber rich incense fragrance, made by Linda Pilkington, with presence and stamina that doesn’t succumb to the too sweet like some ambers do, nor to the medicinal which is the antithetical end of the spectrum in this category (which was Amber Sultan to me unfortunately). Despite the official clary sage and juniper top notes that might seem to shift it to that direction in fact I get more of a peppery and resiny warmth than anything else in the opening (which might account for the unusual reception it gets from people unaccustomed to balsams smelled per se). It keeps a delicate balance between the two ends displaying the wonders of Tolu Balsam and tonka beans over which a subtle floral heart that includes orchid, moroccan rose, muguet (lily of the valley) and orange blossom, left to emit their attractant properties. The effect is surely oriental, however and the mood is exuberant and confident without too much of a development just like the head-strong heroines that might wear this.
I would advise to keep this for cool weather.


Next post will tackle tricky, traitorous, deviant incenses.


Art photography by Chris Borgman, courtesy of his site.

Incense week: 2.Clean incense for Holy Monday

Although not a major celebration, today marks the cleansing of the temple in the Holy City of Jerusalem according to Christian doctrine. This was when Jesus overturned the tables of the moneychangers, saying to them: "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; But you make it a den of robbers". [Matthew: 21:13]
Interestingly in orthodox church the theme of Monday is that of the barren fig tree (Matthew 21: 18-20) which yields no fruit and is condemned. It is important to note here that the theme of each day is actually celebrated the evening before in the church service that precedes the day in question, therefore it is the evening service on Palm Sunday that commemorates this while on Monday evening there is celebration of the upcoming Holy Tuesday (hence the Holy Saturday Resurrection service at midnight, which would seem anachronous). However for practical purposes I am keeping the classification according to each day’s original theme.
To revert to the subject at hand, the fig tree is a classic Mediterranean part of flora that is considered a source of shade and food. Highly prized for both, it is a misfortune and a bad omen even from pagan times for the fig trees to be barren. Although in Christian texts the association of the barren fig tree with the land of Israel is something that leaves a bad taste in my mouth because of its intolerant stance toward the older Jewish population, we could take this in its purely literal sense devoid of any parabolic tendencies.
In addition, on Holy Monday the Church commemorates Joseph the Patriarch, the beloved son of Jacob. A major figure in the Old Testament, Joseph’s story is told in the final section of the Book of Genesis. (chapters 37-50).

Therefore the chosen fragrant theme for Monday should be one of cleanness and pureness of subtle wood and shade and just the hint of a promise of fruit to come.

Passage d’enfer by Lartisan parfumeur: Translated as Passage through Hell (you may also come across Road to hell or Gates of hell), but actually just named after the address of L’artisan flagship store in Paris (oh, such a naughty double-entendre), this is an excellent introductory incense for beginners, yet also a joy for more experienced players in the field as well when they want a break from all those serious and solemn types they are attracted to.
Serene and calm it is a fragrance that is very suited to casual wear, because it is light and uncomplicated. Yet that is not meant to imply that it does not hold surprises up its sleeve in typical Olivia Giacobetti’s translucent style.
The initial phase of slightly tart opening is very clean, while the illusion of soapy latheriness continues for some time. The beauty of lily blossom makes an appearance with the promise of lushness that is not fully materialized; however its prominent floral inclusion is a touch of the sublime. Lily is a carnal flower by nature, white waxy petals with a heady smell that suggests pursuits of another nature than the one associated with spirituality and meditation. And it is precisely because of that that Passage d’enfer strikes a cord of genius, as it marries the two antithetical elements of lily and smoky frankincense in heavenly harmony despite its sinful name. In fact it is the beautiful, melancholic visage of an Edgar Allen Poe’s heroine, destined to die like a half-opened bud on a warm summer’s day. It is therefore delicately feminine and very soft.
The impression of a cool soapy note is not alkaline, nor fatty; it is just a hint like the remnants of lightly scented soap on skin and not the actual bar itself, like in some other soapy perfumes. It could also be likened to a just pressed shirt without the laundry chemical aroma clinging to it, though. This renders it eminently wearable in summer and hot weather. Aloewood makes a brief appearance of guest star in the base although you’d be hard pressed to pinpoint it if you didn’t know about it beforehand. The woody touch on a bed of discreet soft musk is really very subtle and the lasting power is a bit less than average: I would love for them to come up with an eau de parfum for this one.
The reason why many people find fault is that lured by the wrongly assumed meaning of the name they expect the vagaries of the sinful which for some not so obscure reason lure and attract people into the notion that by donning such a scent they might graft that excitement of the forbidden into pedestrian lifestyles. If only…
Passage d’enfer only promises to let you glimpse a slice of heaven, really.

Shaal Nur by Etro: If you want fruity notes with your incense fix look no further. Created by Jacques Flori in 1997 for the quirky and luxurious Italian clothes brand Etro it stands alone in the galaxy of incense scents as truly unique. The inclusion of lemon as unlikely a note as it seems in combination with incense is what accounts for this. The first whiff is vaguely reminiscent of Les Nuits d’Hadrien by Goutal in that you are clearly in the presence of hesperidia, unisex in predicament, segueing on to a slightly orientalised composition that is based on a dry rendition of incense. Perhaps the innovation behind this tendency can be traced as back as the legendary Shalimar by Guerlain, which explored the lemon top and the slight incense of the bottom, yet in that gem the inclusion of deep, plush vanilla shifts the focus into powdery rich fluffiness and seduction that it is profoundly lacking here.
Herbal additions such as rosemary and tarragon shift it into unisex territory as well.
The lemony overtone here might be linked to some people’s minds with sharp smelling housecleaning liquids (and I can certainly see some connection), men’s shaving cream or even cheap aftershave. It is not to imply that it is a cheap fragrance, nevertheless it does tend to take a turn for the sour in a manner that is not particularly akin to my skin’s preferences, which could be interpreted any which way you like of course. The sour note lingers through the drying down stages only to be greeted by a smidgeon of vanillic warmth that is not enough to soften it and round it as one would expect. Rose is said to be included, but there is no potent smell of it to my nose, although the impression of sourness might also be attributed to an adverse chemical reaction between rosy notes and my skin: let’s just say we’re not on good terms most of the time. The addition of a rich wood note or a little patchouli might balance the top and heart,although it might divert from the clean route this one is destined for, but to my nose its major fault is simply its lacking in depth. The lasting power is rather nice, about 5-6 hours.
However I could see it being used by people who want a tart unisex smell for freshening up, but do not want to resort to the usual eau de Cologne types or the abundance of fruit salads on the market these days. It does smell individual after all. It is a sore pity the bottle is so nice and the weird colour of the jus so fetching to me, because it does attract the eye to be sure.

Kyoto by Comme des Garcons Incense series: In the classification of clean or woody incenses as the one on which we are focusing today, Kyoto would not be missing for long. Even though it is inspired by far eastern temples, thus bearing no relation to Christian incense collective memory, it is assuredly one of the most tranquil, wearable and popular incense fragrances around and with its strong yet clean character it befits the symbolism of the day well.
The smoky initial phase quickly fades to reveal an intoxicating richness of cedar elaborated to the max. The Virginian variety of cedar used here is a sweeter, less intense version compared to the incensy Atlas variety from Morocco. It is the aroma of freshly sharpened pencils that is so beloved by those who have good school reminiscences. The overall woody character of Kyoto is the protagonist anchored by the smokiness of incense.
This is exactly why this takes such a wearable turn on skin, because it provides just the right balance to make this mysterious enough without ever seeming gloomy or ghoulish. There is a strong calming and grounding effect when I smell this and the inclusion of a subtle grassy vetiver note, maybe a hint of pine and some smooth ambery glow is so fetching as to make me long to be in an eastern temple practicing my Oms. Tall coniferous trees swinging their branches in the breeze, white aromatic smoke emanating from censers. Because of that imagery I envision it as cool weather scent mainly.
Geraniol is maybe a note that makes it smell rather powdery and soft.
Supposedly there is also a coffee note, as well as teakwood in there, but I can swear that these are not what surfaces on skin. I think it has no specific feminine or masculine attributes, however this is one exception in which I would hesitate to call it unisex, simply because the connotation of a eunuch never enters the mind as with most scents of that ambience. It is proudly sexy in a very insouciant, understated way and it is profoundly human and serene.


Next installement is about lush, warm and alluring incense fragrances fit for sinners.

Incense week: 1.Palm Sunday and its exotic fragrances

Incense is inextricably linked to liturgy and religious ceremonies since pagan times and as I am not particularly religious myself, but more interested in aspects of history and tradition, I chose to simply grab the chance to talk about a very popular perfume note that never fails to put scent lovers in a mood. Therefore the reader should not see this series of articles as any attempt at catechizing or preaching of the wonders of any faith or sect, as my objective is to provide a fun and hopefully interesting method of attributing specific incense perfumes to certain moods as reflected by tales from religious texts and categorizing them into broad categories that encompass certain commonalities. I am sure this could be done for any religion and faith existing in regard to perfumes. Let’s just say it seemed a novel idea to me. This first article aims to also provide a little introduction to the relation of incense and Christian practice.

Incense of course has a noble history since antiquity as a means of pesticide, air cleanser and for medical and poisonous purposes as well. It was also used in sacrificial liturgies and this practice was picked up by Christians who blamed pagans for their habits, nevertheless soon adopted several of their common habits in their own liturgical usage. The Hebrew tradition is of course rich in the aromatic on its own and Song of Songs is only a smidgeon of that aspect.
Tracing back the beginning of such incense use as a pathway to the divine in Christian church we stumble upon Ephrem and the Transitus Mariae, after its 300 years of exile from Christian practices. Later on, stylite ascetics ignited such admiration for their superhuman feats and willpower that their position as literally and spiritually above and beyond was linked to the smoke rings rising from incense burning in censers, like the bodily matter immaterializes into the spiritual. Incense piety had begun in earnest for the Christian faith. Saints were said to exude the paradisial scent of myrrh, while devil and his disciples were inextricably linked to sulfur (as supposedly witnessed by Martin of Tours). Foul smells also recall decay and disease and thus invoke an image of human fall and corruption which is metaphorically linked to a moral low.
Ambrose of Milan calls Christ the flower of Mary, denoting a pleasant sensory experience in the presence of the holy and the continuation of fragrance emitting even after death, just like flowers do after being cut. It is no accident that even today in churches and monasteries there is myrrh and frankincense anointed to the mortar and sold to the devout while ascetic places now open to visit for the public smell potently of that most holy of aromas.
Myself I adore ecclesiastical incense which I buy in “tears” not from shops or internet e-tailers but directly from church and flea markets, made by monks usually at the Athos monastic community in Greece. I will elaborate on it on an upcoming post as it is interesting in itself, but suffice to say that the variety I prefer called “moscholeevano” ("leevan" etymologically derives from Levant, the east, or Lebanon) which is a deep, dark, resiny smell with a piercingly sweet top that makes the heart ache a bit and is on the whole likened on various fora to the exhaust fumes of a diesel engine vehicle. I think not, but we will have plenty of time elucidating that in a forthcoming installment.

It is worth noting in passing before we proceed any further that incense as a term is not a single note or ingredient but that it can in turn have various notes in itself. The classical ingredients for incense are frankincense or olibanum while myrrh and labdanum are also used, along with many others. Many recipes exist and each perfumer –professional or amateur- is composing one’s own mixture.

We thus begin our exploration of incense in relation to the celebrations of the Holy week with Palm Sunday, the first day of the holy week and the aftermath of Lazarus’s resurrection, perhaps the most famous miracle supposedly performed by Jesus.
The last Sunday of Lent is commonly referred to as Palm Sunday. On that day religious texts tell us that Christ entered Jerusalem on a donkey, to be greeted by the crowds gathered for Passover carrying palm branches. By doing so he enacted the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9 and also showed the humility with which he envisioned the Kingdom he proclaimed. However this is also the beginning of the Holy week that culminated in Crucifixion and Resurrection and is thus also called Passion Week.
Although Jesus was greeted with “Hosanna to the son of David”, recalling the famous King David of the Old Testament, it is perhaps an irony that that same crowd was against him just days afterwards. However this is only human nature and does not reflect on any religious antagonism in my opinion, taking in mind too that in the name of Christ lots of those holy places were pillaged and people were slain in later centuries.
To revert to semiotics, the traditional Lent colour is purple in Protestant churches, while in Catholic tradition on Palm Sunday it changes to red with all its connotations to life and blood, hence its use to connote the martyrs of faith in Christian iconography.
First mention of Palm Sunday procession is to be found in the travel journal of Etheria, a nun from northwest Spain who made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem toward the end of the fourth century. In her writing she refers to Palm Sunday as the beginning of the Paschal Week (pascha=easter, deriving from the Hebrew peschah).

Therefore as this plethora of symbols and inferences is not lost upon me, upon reflecting on specific perfumes that explore one aspect of incense I came up with the following suggestions.

Ouarzazate by Comme des Garcons Incense series: The first images that came to my mind upon resniffing this were the locales of exotic Morocco of which it is inspired and named after (there is indeed an ancient city by that name in the Atlas mountain area). Scenery for a lot of movies recently, some of the sandal-and-sword type, Ourazazte the fragrance has a dry and hot character immediately. The initial harsh top note of clary sage gives a very pungent, herbal aspect of disinfectant, which I am sure would be useful in those hot places, festering with bacteria, and it is this which had initially deterred me from further appreciating the composition in this rendition of incense in the infamous and revered Incense series by the Japanese brand. The hotness and coolness of peppercorns is tickling-but not singeing- the nostrils supported by a lemony phase that is actually the best part for me personally, while the incense is only hinted at and never as rich and full as the type used in liturgy. However it is not the far eastern variety but reminiscent of western tradition. The ethereal and resinous quality of wenge and labdanum is anchored by dry woods, soft clean musk (the synthetic cashmere woods) and a mineral veil of hard rock that is very a propos the exoticism of the proposed association.
It smells white and is illuminated by a hopeful and clearing tone of people walking great distances in rugged territory in anticipation of something worthy.
The whole does not last long, just as the triumphant procession through the streets of the holy land did not either.
This is a thinking person’s incense for outdoor activities in a hot climate and suitable for both sexes, not a sensual, cuddly, warm type at all, despite the mentioned inclusion of vanilla which is absent to my nose.

Timbuktu by L’artisan parfumeur: Another atypical incense and woods fragrance, chosen because of its outdoorsy air and exotic character that smells of the Middle East and Africa. Not terribly popular, because of the weird ambience of it, however it is one of the most interesting compositions I have ever smelled and it retains a place in my heart for its limpid and soft medley of notes. Contrary to internet tails that it actually contains real animal matter (surely, this is just sensationalism to you and me and I doubt L’artisan intentionally hinted at such notions) it has a woody, black soil character that overcomes the feline urinous smell it is so often accused of possessing. Frankincense takes a slightly bitter turn in this one and it is an airy and light incense note like that in Passage d’enfer; its marriage with spicy cardamom, a middle-eastern favourite aroma used for scenting Arabian coffee is very successful.
It has a tart but not really sharp acidic note throughout that is balanced by the earthy dirty plant scent that reminds one of unidentifiable leaves and roots. Abstract dryness is the overall tone of the composition and a verge towards the unisex or even to the masculine end of the spectrum is not uncalled for. This is not to imply that it doesn’t smell good on woman’s skin, because it does, but it is not what most people in the West associate with a feminine smell, although it is said to have been inspired by a traditional recipe of African women as an attraction elixir. Bertrand Duchaufour,the nose behind this oddball, visited his brother in Mali where he learned that the women there concocted a fragrant alloy of flower petals spices, fruits and woods which they used to scent themselves. The fruits in Timbuktu are nothing like the department store variety of saccharine persuasion we have come to expect and do not make a pronounced appearance. In fact it is not very unlike the niche green mango note that is present in Jardin sur le Nil (although there it manages to also evoke the peel of fresh grapefruit to me). The inclusion of patchouli of the Voleur de Roses variety, vetiver and myrrh provide a backdrop for good lasting power allied to the powderiness of benzoin which makes a short vanishing act at the end.
I do not find it similar to anything else on the market, although a slight relation to Kyoto from CDG Incense series might be detected if hard pressed.
I find it is best suited to in-between weather: neither too cold, nor too cold, so autumn and spring are its shining seasons. It comes in eau de toilette.

Costes by Hotel Costes: I hesitated before including this one in today’s procession, because it is rather warmer and somehow richer in its ambience, with its spicy cinnamon and white pepper character, but the notion that it is inspired by a hotel in Paris (thus having a hospitalier connotation) and made for them and the red colour designated to this day -which is reflected in the packaging of this perfume- convinced me to mention it just as well. The nose behind it is Olivia Giacobetti, a young and quirky perfumer who has worked on many inriguing scents such as En passant, Passage d'enfer, and Dzing! Initially conceived as a candle and then as a fragrance by people who have also ventured into musical CD compilations aiming at providing lifestyle options, it manages to smell different on different people.
It still has the green and herbal character that is tied to the vision I have of this day in my mind, with a touch of evergreens, crushed coriander and laurel leaves that remind me of a good stew or lentil soup being made.
Luckily, although it is said to be included among the mix, rose does not make a pronounced appearance on me, meaning it is not the old-fashioned powdery rose which might take a turn for the sour on certain skins (or brains...). There is also a soap element like that of alkaline suds of slightly sweet sandalwood old-fashioned men’s soap allied with pure lavender that is surfacing on my skin and thus it takes a clean turn that is rather welcome in warmer weather. That aspect is not antithetical to the notion of incense fragrances as lots of them do explore the pureness and spirituality of cleanness. It is not only the deep, pungent efforts that might reek of pretence that capture the mysterious. The incense in Costes is smoky and not too rich, slightly recalling a much lighter (and thus perhaps more wearable for lots of people) of Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque which also started as an ambience smell rather than a personal fragrance (more on which later on).
I think Costes can be enjoyed in any season by both sexes, as long as the wearer has a little individuality and a modern air about them and is not up against a heatwave. Its lasting power is average for an eau de toilette concentration.


Next installment in the series will tackle a different aspect of incense.




Greek orthodox icon pic comes from saintbarbara.org