Showing posts with label elemi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elemi. Show all posts

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Oriflame Mirage: fragrance review

One of the few and far in between fragrances composed by Françoise Caron for Oriflame (as per the company's official info), Mirage had the stunning visuals to turn heads even before smelling its intense "magical broth" scent. The intensely green bottle and the red-haired heroine representing it, dressed in emerald flowing gowns (red enhancing the green) had me salivating even before holding the lovely rollerball vials they used to make and trying it on my own skin with all the apprehension reserved for ritualized experiences.


This most striking of colors, green being the color of horror movies and sorceresses' brews, is taken for a wild ride in Mirage. The peppery, mysterious and lush smell of vetiver and sticky, sweetly spicy peppery resins engulf its core of dark, gothic rose with thorns attached. One can almost feel the ache of those "pricked thumbs" and the foreboding of [the] "wicked [which] our way comes" as per Macbeth's second witch's famous lines. But unlike Lady Macbeth you won't long to wash it off your hands, if it catches your heart. And it very well might, unless you're of the gourmands and fruity florals brigade, in which case step away like hordes of Huns are stampeding down your path.

Unusual for Oriflame fragrances Mirage was very potent and with a high sillage, making it a true love-it-or-hate-it perfume. And I say "was" because it is discontinued. In the hopes of having it re-introduced, even under another name, I am writing this elegy of its emerald-hued heart of darkness.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Perfumery Material: Elemi

Patricia Davis in her Aromatherapy A-Z [1] claims that the source of the name "elemi" is an Arabic phrase meaning "above and below" (in itself an abbreviation of "as above, so below") which hints at the spiritual connotations of this sacred ingredient. Similar to frankincense and muhuhu, both in botanical terms and in terms of smell, elemi is not thick and deep like familiar amber mixes. The overall scent of elemi can best be typified in perfume lingo as "terpenic", an aroma typified by fresh pine needles, clean, green with citrusy and coriander undertones. It's therefore not unusual to see it featured in the context of "pine" compositions or in masculine fragrances, as well as in incense blends.

Canarium Luzonicum
The clear yellow liquid has a thin rather than thick consistency and it surprises with its lemony "clean" aspects which are exotic, yet fresh. This is accountable to limonene (a prime lemon molecule) that comprises more than half of the fragrant constituents of the material make-up. The odor profile of elemi is akin to a dill pickle, with a peppery and fennel facet, discernible citrus piquancy, but less tart than expected from that reference. For those reasons elemi oil blends perfectly with notes that share this uplifting fresh quality within their bouquet, be it materials classified as "aromatic" (such as lavender, clary sage and rosemary) or those in the "resinous fresh" category (such as frankincense—which also shares a lemony top-note—and myrrh). It has long being used to extend citrus products thanks to its higher resistance to heat.

The elemi resinoid on the other hand has the spicy peppery and woody-grassy facets more pronounced making it pair perfectly with pepper, woods (patchouli and vetiver especially), and sweet grass, while its constituent elemicin is shared with nutmeg. Elemol is the molecule that gives it its characteristic "flavor."

 Elemi's use in embalming, found in sarcophagi buried in ancient tombs has been celebrated through the ages. The ancient Egyptians championed elemi in the intricate embalming process (alongside styrax, turpentine, benzoin, and other materials) to help the bodies retain their dryness and freshness throughout the centuries. Is the tale that the name derives from an ancient African tribal god whose name translates as "keeper of the spirit" relevant? It's a story steeped in mystery.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica it was Pliny the Elder who first referenced a styptic medicine with the name "enhaemon," which contained "tears" of a gum substance from the olive tree of Arabia. After the Middle Ages the resin from the Boswellia frereana tree, a Somalian variant (Maydi) of the genus that gives as frankincense, was referred to as "elemi". Its inclusion in Coptic incense (i.e. the incense used by the Coptic Christian church of Egypt), helped the confusion, as elemi is frequently a participant in incense blends. Later, in the 18th century, when the exploration of new lands in the Americas was still going on, the resin derived from the genus Icica from Brazil was -again- called "elemi." 
Amyris elemifera

Today however when we refer to elemi it stands for the resinoid and the essential oil, a gum harvested from the tree Canarium Commune, Linn (N.O. Burseraceae). or Canarium Luzonicum which grows in the Philippines, both wild and cultivated. The Manila Canarium ovatum variety (the "pili" nut) is grown also for its skin-beneficial properties which European brands, Chanel among them, use in their skincare lines. Manila elemi is actually a trade name for the soft, fragrant exudates obtained from the trunk of the Canarium tree species which includes "pili." The gum is obtained by exudation of the trees: when the trunks of the trees get an incision resin flows from there, forming "tears," as the liquid solidifies when coming into contact with the air. The collected tears are then steam-distilled to get the essential oil or they are treated with volatile solvents to produce an elemi resinoid.

It is important not to confuse elemi from the Canarium Luzonicum tree from the oleoresin from the Amyris elemifera tree (also known as "torchwood"), the trunks of which exude a type of balsam (oleoresin) that contains elemic acids, liquid sesquiterpenes, and triterpenes such as α- and β-amyrin among other components. To differentiate we can briefly say that Amyris elemifera produces "Mexican elemi", whereas the Canarium Commune variety produces the "Manila elemi". The Amyris derived elemi essence has a sandalwood scent profile, woody balsamic, similar to other balsams, without the complexity of natural sandalwood, rather than citrusy terpenic. Essential oils containing caryophyllene, cadinene, and cadinol are extracted from Amyris balsamifera and Amyris elemifera. These are used in varnishes, perfumes, medicines, cosmetics, soaps, and incense.

Fragrances rich in elemi notes:

Biehl Parfumkinstwerke MB03
Byredo Chembur
Cerruti 1881 pour Homme
CB I Hate Perfume Violet Empire
Chanel Allure Homme Sport
Comme des Garcons Avignon
Davidoff Cool Water Deep
Dior Homme Sport
Diptyque Eau Duelle
Gucci by Gucci pour Homme
Guerlain L'instant pour Homme
Hermes Eau de Merveilles
Histoire des Parfums 1740 Marquis de Sade
Ineke Gilded Lily
Kenzo L'Eau par Kenzo Indigo Pour Homme
Lagerfeld Femme
Lalique White
Lorenzo Villoresi Incensi
Marc Jacobs Bang
Miller Harris La Fumee
Neela Vermeire Mohur
Neela Vermeire Trayee
Olfactive Studio Autoportrait
Olfactive studio Still Life
Roberto Cavalli Her
Victor & Rolf Spicebomb

[1] Cambridge. The C.W. Daniel Company Limited. 1998

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Divine L'Homme Infini: fragrance review

"A gentleman is simply a patient wolf."
~Lana Turner

William Thackeray, who knew a thing or two about snobs, wrote in Vanity Fair: "Which of us can point out many [gentlemen] in his circle – men whose aims are generous, whose truth is constant, and not only constant in its kind, but elevated in its degree; whose want of meanness makes them simple; who can look the world squarely in the face with an equal manly sympathy for the great and the small?"

L'Homme Infini deeply appeals to my own ideal of nobility, in the sense of an ideal human being; not lineage, but the couth ways, effortless elegance and received wisdom that should go with it. From its suave green-citrusy vetiver core with sweet, cozy, nutty undertones, to its piquant smoky pepperiness, the fragrance reads like an paean to masculinity; reassuring and dependable, a shoulder to lean on in hardship and a handsome cheek to caress when things go awry and a wistful tear is forming.

Caspar David Friedrich. Abbey in the Oak Forest, 1810

Yvon Mouchel, founder of Parfums Divine, has employed one of the young mavericks emerging in this medium, Yann Vasnier (a Givaudan perfumer working among others for Arquiste, Tom Ford, Marc Jacobs, Comme des Garcons and Parfums DelRae). Vasnier has a history of creating outstanding men’s scents for Divine (L'homme de Coeur, from 2002, for one), and L’homme infini, his latest creation for the line, a nutty-smoky vetiver woody scent, manages to entice and deliver both in terms of intellectual artistic integrity and of pleasing the senses. With L’Homme Infini, Divine expresses the idea that man has an infinite horizon of life before him.

No claims to seismic originality, but high praise for the deft of execution for this one.

On skin (male as well as female) L'Homme Infini wears very much like a beloved piece of clothing you want to wear to tatters, the gorgeous patina of effervescent skies, tall silvery trees, their branches like peaks of gothic churches reaching for the skies, for the divine, geosmin and human warmth trailing on fabric; craggy stones and flint, coarsely grated spices and the spraying droplets bursting out of orange rind, and woods, woods, woods...echoing in the distance.
The promise of mysteries yet to be discovered, the adventure only now beginning.

Divine L’homme Infini notes: Coriander leaf and grain, elemi, black pepper, oak, cedar, agar wood, vetiver, amber, benzoin

Available from November 2012 at the e-boutique, all Divine boutiques in France and at Luckyscent, Liberty UK, The Perfume Shoppe, Oswald Parfumerie and AusLiebeDuft. Check the brand's website for more information: http://www.divine.fr

In the interests of disclosure I was sent sample vials by the company

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Definition: Resinous & Balsamic Fragrances

One of the most elusive terms in fragrance terminology appears to be -according to readers' comments- "resinous" and "balsamic", as relating to perfumes. The raw materials falling under the umbrella of resins and balsams are among the most ancient components of perfumes, often the basis of the Oriental family of scents and lending their soothing opulence and depth to other families, such as the Chypres. They make their appearence known in any category though: florals, fougères, hesperidics also benefit from a touch here and there.
The distinction between resin and balsam is one of form, on a fundamental level: Simply put and generalising, resinous materials come in the form of solidified, gum-like "tears" seeping from the elixir vitae circulating into the bark of big trees, such as the Boswellia Carteri (which produces frankincense). Balsams on the other hand are trickly materials, not necessarily tree secretions, often coming as they do from flower pods or bushy twigs (such as vanilla orchids or the Mediterranean rockrose). But there are exceptions to every rule: Opopanax, though resinous smelling itself, actually comes from a herb, opopanax chironium.
So the real focus when referencing balsamic and resinous terminology is how the materials actually smell and how they're different or common in scent, rather than what their origin is. 
Therefore, for ease, resinous & balsamic materials are classified into 3 distinct olfactory profiles according to their aromatic properties first and foremost.

Soft balsamic smelling ingredients include:
  • vanilla (from the vanilla orchid, the rich pod having a more complex rum-like note than the popular synthetic ethyl vanillin)
  • benzoin gum (from Styrax Tonkiniensis with a sweetish, caramel and vanillic facet; benzoin Siam or benzoin Sumatra are used in perfumery)
  • Peru balsam (coming from the Myroxylon, ~literally "fragrant wood" in Greek~ or Quina/Balsamo, a different species of which also produces Tolu balsam)
  • Tolu balsam (close to Peru balsam, but a little sweeter and fresher)
  • cistus labdanum (leathery, ambery, deep, coming from the rockrose bush and traditionally harvested from the hairs of goats who had grazed on the rockrose).
Mecca balsam 4
These materials have a gentle tone, while at the same time they're softly enveloping and have a pronounced character. They fix flowers into lasting longer and thanks to their properties when used in large quantities produce the semi-Orientals or the florientals (in conjunction with rich floral essences). 
A great example of a fragrance featuring copious amounts of Tolu balsam is Tolu perfume by Ormonde Jayne. The opulence of the balsamic note mollifies the rest of the composition, giving the golden sheen of a multi-faceted citrine. Tolu also makes floral notes more candied: in Fracas by Piguet it acts on the tuberose, on Gold by Donna Karan it enhances the ambery lily.
Compare and contrast with the balsamic base of Guerlain's Vol de Nuit which features a generous helping of Peru balsam; the oriental accord gives it its opulence under the green top note. In Ambre Sultan by Lutens, Peru balsam pairs with its traditional counterpart, an oriental amber accord. Elixir des Merveilles is another one which features balsam of Peru for its sweetly grounding qualities.

For labdanum, grab Donna Karan Labdanum, L'Air du desert Marocain by Andy Tauer, La Labo Labdanum 18 or Madame X by Ava Luxe: they're full of it.
The purest incarnation of benzoin in non gum form is Papier d'Armenie, the traditional scented little papers in a cute notebook, which burnt produce a clearing, anti-microbial atmosphere to one's home. Short of that, if you don't travel to Europe often, you can get a sample of Bois d'Armenie by Guerlain, or Prada Candy. Benzoin is very versatile spanning the fragrance families from citrus to woods and florals and its heft is therefore used frequently as it complements the other notes beautifully. Chanel's Coromandel fuses the vanilla-cinnamon notes of benzoin with a white chocolate note to render a delicious and sophisticated gourmand fragrance. Both benzoin and Tolu balsam make up the surprisingly monastic backdrop of Bal a Versailles by Jean Desprez, allied to the austerity of cedar.

If you are seeking a lush balsamic composition with multi-nuanced orientalia, seek no further than Mecca Balsam by La via del Profumo; it features labdanum, real oud and franckincense as well, so it's a composite that allows one to see how categories can be combined.

Vanillic fragrances are of course widely understood by everyone, so another article of a different scope, focusing on their merits and faults, is in order.


Resinous balsamic smelling ingredients include:
  • opoponax/opopanax (also called "sweet myrrh" ~though no relation~ from the Opopanax chironium herb, scented between lavender & amber)
  • frankincense/olibanum (the lemony-top, smoky smelling "tears" of the Boswellia carteri tree, called lubbān in Arabic)
  • myrrh gum (a waxy oleoresin with a bitterish profile from the Commiphora myrrha)
  • birch tar (from "cooked" birch wood, tar-smelling)
  • elemi (a peppery, lemony, pine-like yellow oil coming from the steam-distilled or treated with volatile solvents resin of the Canarium Lizonicum)
  • styrax (resin from the Liquidambar Orientalis tree, with a scent reminiscent of glue and cinnamon)
Valued since antiquity, resins have been widely used in incense and perfumery. Highly fragrant and antiseptic resins and resin-containing perfumes have been used by many cultures as medicines for a large variety of ailments. It's no coincidence that the three Magi gave baby Jesus the gifts of Frankincense, Myrrh and Gold. Traditionally used to make incense (King Solomon regarded opoponax as the noblest incense gum), even nowadays in the Middle East and the Mediterranean basin frankincense and myrrh "tears" are the incense par excellence still. These materials are deeper, with a lingering trail which adds originality and projection to a composition. Since they themselves typically come from the bark of trees in the form of crystalised resin "tears", they pair very well with woody scents.

If you want to get a taste of how some of the more "esoteric" of these smell, , say opoponax grab yourself the Diptyque Opopanax scent in either room spray or candle, as well as their Myrrh candle. They provide the scent in isolation. The iconic Shalimar as well as the masculine counterpart Habit Rouge owe their "flou" hazy effect in opoponax allied to orange blossom. For myrrhMyrrhe Ardente in Les Orientalistes line by Annick Goutal and La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens provide two nuanced and quite different "readings" of the myrrh gum in complex compositions.
Athonite frankincense in the black variety is pure frankincense/olibanum gum (it's pliable when you rub it, like chewing gum), rising in clean, citrusy-smoky ringlets on the air; I burn it on small coal tablets regularly. There are many frankincense fragrances in the niche market, the truer perhaps being Avignon by Comme des Garcons, but the whole Incense Series is to be explored for the truly interested perfume lover.
Tauer's Incense Extrême is a good starting place for frankincense variants, based as it is on the Boswellia serrata (Indian incense) at a 25% concentration.

Birch tar is easily detected in compositions of the Cuir de Russie type (from Chanel Cuir de Russie to Piver's and Guerlain Cuir de Russie). This is also a material that can be classified in the sub-group of phenolic smells. It is pungent and dark.
Elemi is often used in masculine blends to give at the same time cooling piquancy and warmth thanks to its peppery top note: try Gucci by Gucci, notice the top note of L'Instant pour Homme (Guerlain) and the unique Eau de Naphe by Comptoir Sud Pacifique. For styrax, remember that the resin has a leathery facet with incense tonalities (and has been an important supporting player in "Cuir de Russie" compositions, such as Chanel's). Notice it in the drydown of Carven's Ma Griffe, in Poivre 23 by Le Labo and in No.11 Cuir Styrax by Prada. Lutens uses it beautifully in several of his scents, notably in the base note of Tubereuse Criminelle and Cuir Mauresque.

Nota bene that even though fir, pine and copal essences come from coniferous trees themselves,  I am not including them in the resinous and balsamic classification as they're really terpenic-smelling (a perfume definition to be elaborated on in a subsequent article).

There is also a sub-set of powdery balsamic smelling ingredients which do not come in resin or balsam form, therefore they are not classified into this category via origin at all, but rather via their scent profile alone. This includes: orris root (the Iris Pallida rhizome and also the synthetic irones-rich reproductions), several musks of synthetic origin, and carrot seed oil (which can give an orris scent in itself).
Amber mixes (refer to what amber is and its difference from ambergris on this link) can also be powdery balsamic smelling: the inclusion of benzoin (which gives a sweetish, baby talc note) and vanilla in the mix of ingredients in amber is the culprit. In French terminology/classification of orientalised perfumes they're refered to as "parfums ambrés" (even when not entirely focused on amber). For instance Obsession, the original Magie Noire (not the reformulated which is greener, more chypre) or Moschino by Moschino (again the original from 1987) are examples of perfumes "ambrés". It is important NOT to confuse between a balsamic/ambery powdery ambience (which is typically sweeter) and one which is powdery/dry (such as in Aromatics Elixir, Ma Griffe, Flower by Kenzo, DK Cashmere Mist): the two terms though very close are not interchangeable.

In concluding, the necessity of establishing a common language for scent among people who talk about the same perfumes increasingly arises. Even though we commonly use subjective terms to denote our feelings, the proper terminology, in accordance to how perfumers talk among themselves, aids a thorough understanding  and enhances our communicating our impressions on an immediately graspable context. It is this need which we try to address with our articles on Perfume Vocabulary and Definition on PerfumeShrine. If you haven't caught up with our relevant articles, here's what you might have missed:

Photo of resin drops, some rights reserved by flod/flickr, censer pic via St.Dunstan's Priory

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Amouage Honour Woman & Honour Man: fragrance reviews

I distinctly recall watching Cio-Cio San ritualistically commit suicide with her father's knife at the end scene of Madama Butterfly and thinking that despite the glorious music, the storyline lacked the tragic depths of Euripides's Medea, fresh in my mind from school. It was more simplistic too: one straight plot line, girl wins boy, girl loses boy, girl commits hara kiri. Surely, both heroines were cruelly abandonded by their foreign lovers for whom they sacrificed everything, but somehow taking one's life seemed to my childish eyes as an easy way out; eternally pining for the grave sin of filicide, uniting both tragic lovers & parents in pain, seemed vastly more weighty. But the Japanese notion of honour wanted it so and further exploration of Japonism acclimatized me with the idea in the end. Honour Woman and Honour Man, fragrances inspired ~as Christopher Chong revealed~ by the ending act of Puccini's Madama Butterfly, come as a stop at a multifarious course.

The prolific art director for Omani-based firm Amouage, C. Chong, is issuing perfume duos for some time now, having the best noses creating under his guidance: From the majestic Jubilation 25 for women and Jubilation XXV for men to the sweeping Epic for Men and Epic for Women, the rich fragrances have lured lovers of true luxury and superb raw materials creating something of a mini cult. Even when the skeleton is recognisable as belonging to a specific category met again, the fleshing out of the robust contours is impressive enough to warrant uniqueness.


In order to assess both Honour editions, it's essential to examine how they interpret the concept: Instead of playing out the scenario of Puccini's heroes in one's mind, it might be better to see the scents as a modern extention of a viewer who sees their shadows cast in the wings; oriental elements petering, but those are not reserved for the Far East, they also draw upon the Middle-Eastern tradition: incense, elemi resin, jasmine, the Spice Route, pepper worth its weight in gold and finally Indian tuberose...This amalgam of richness is woven into a tapestry that is not reminiscent of any one culture, yet stands on the edge between ancient, rich in resins & flower essences natural perfumery and the modern ethereal treatment that ensures fragrances remain contemporary as if fueled by electrified air.
Both Honour Woman and Honour Man are typically Amouage in their individual way, showcasing what natural oils can do to instil richness and depth in fragrance, possessing as they do a sort of 3D-expansion which reveals facets interlocking with each other in an olfactory Rubik's Cube.

Amouage Honour Woman, created by perfumers Alexandra Carlin and Violaine Collas, is galvanised by the power of pink jasmine, fruity, succulent and nectarous as if oozing sexy honey, floriental, womanly and seductive and yet light enough to be enjoyed during the summer. The bouquet reminded me of a less campy Vamp à NY, chokeful as that one is too of real, vibrant natural white flowers, hints of big Bazooka gum pieces laced with banana-fruit facets. Smelling Honour Woman on top, I'm struck by the swift progression from the peppery-camphoraceous green note which foreshadows tuberose (in reality spicy notes and that certain subtle root-beer touch which is so familiar to Americans) into the intensely sweet, fruity and upbeat jasmine heart that is all out nature red in tooth and claw. The white floral essences stimulate Honour Woman into a melodious cadenza that seems never ending, supremely lasting onto blotter, clothes, nostrils, soft skin, decolletage...And yet, the supporting of that floral sweetness by somber notes like green vetiver and serene incense makes Honour Woman a pliable, real femme who can yield under the power of love, rather than an hysterical madwoman who scatters her demands right and left. The success and beauty of Amouage Honour Woman lie in the balance of diva-esque characteristcs with the cool attitude of seeing the brightest morning light as the most natural thing in the world...which it is.

Notes for Amouage Honour Woman:
Top notes are coriander, pepper and rhuburb;
middle notes are carnation, jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and lily-of-the-valley;
base notes are vetiver, opoponax, amber, incense and leather.

Amouage Honour Man, composed by perfumer Nathalie Feisthauer is a decidedly spicy fragrance, with oriental-woody leanings. The intensity of its spicy top, a veritable plunge into the pepper shaker, is unsettling, grabbing you from both lapels and smacking down into submission. But oh, you want to discover what this tough story unfolds later on! Indeed, the pepper becomes almost oily, like the half smoky-half musty odour when you crack a mace, more than a tad resinous, thanks to elemi (a naturally pepper-like essence that compliments frankincense and enters into the blend of Eastern cencer incense mixes). The equally terpenic sides of this mix are soon embraced by the distinct green-rosy-camphor of geranium and blended woody notes of cedar, patchouli and vetiver, borrowing a slice of Amouage's Reflection. The cunning in Honour Man lies into presenting each note as a distinct pitch with sonorous timbre, yet also as unifying them into a chromatic scale that is heard like bass coming out from subwoofers in the larynx of some smoldering lion afar, coming closer and closer by the minute. In no way threatening, but impressive all the same, Honour Man should have lovers of Poivre Samarcande, Bang and Poivre 23 sniff appreciatively and try to unravel the complicated thread of its Eastern mythos for western men.

Notes for Amouage Honour Man:
Top notes are pink pepper and pepper;
middle notes are geranium, elemi and nutmeg;
base notes are vetiver, musk, patchouli, Virginia cedar, incense and tonka bean.

Eau de Parfum, 50ml for £120. Available at Harrods, Selfridges, Les Scenteurs and Amouage boutique, 14 Lowndes Street, SW1. Soon available stateside.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Amouage fragrance reviews and news

In the interests of full disclosure I tried the new scents via official samples sent by the company

This Month's Popular Posts on Perfume Shrine