Malle, head of Editions de Parfums, one of the first few companies to position themselves as "niche", invites us to the midtown headquarters of IFF (International Flavors & Fragrances) to learn about the science and art of perfumery. The IFF is part fragrance think tank, part Willy Wonka-esque factory. Many (if not most) of the world's leading fine fragrances have been imagined and created within its walls —and very few cameras are allowed inside. How could one refuse such an offer? So courtesy of Barneys who were allowed into the abode, I am happy to share this video with you.
In the clip, you see a visit to the laboratories at IFF and you meet Frédéric's esteemed collaborator perfumer Bruno Jovanovic, who worked with Malle and Dries Van Noten on their recently released fragrance, to get the full story on how a Frédéric Malle fragrance comes to be. F.Malle fragrances can be shopped at Barneys as well as the dedicated Editions de Parfums F.Malle site.
Showing posts with label fragrance making. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fragrance making. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
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:
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:
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 myrrh, Myrrhe 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
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).
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)
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 myrrh, Myrrhe 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.
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:
- Definition: Indolic vs. Non Indolic
- Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
- Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
- Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
- Definition: Phenolic, Terpenic, Camphoraceous scents
- Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?
Photo of resin drops, some rights reserved by flod/flickr, censer pic via St.Dunstan's Priory
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Perfumery Material: Sandalwood & Synthetic Substitutes
"None but the Mali Mountains contain Sandalwood" is written in an ancient Buddhist scripture. We know this is not the case, but the essence produced by Santalum album (a member of the Santalaceae family) has captured the imagination of man for 4000 years. Sandalwood is the natural product par excellence: a scent so fine, so rich and yet with a fresh top note, so creamy sweet and so enduring that it has inspired generations of men and women to harvest its precious, sacred trunk in order to imbue products for personal and public use with its fine aroma. I vividly remember the sandalwood soaps I received as a gift when an impressionable teenager by a well travelled, older cousin: the creamy, woody, incense-y ambience was irresistible, to the point that a bar was tucked intact in my drawer of small tops to produce a spontaneous "aaah" of rediscovery each time it was pulled out.
Japanese temple incense is most often infused with the aroma of sandalwood in tandem with agarwood. Indian incense often is nothing but. From soap to shaving cream and from essence oil to fine fragrances, sandalwood is one of the most traditional and yet still popular "notes" in all of perfumery.
As I bathe my skin with real Mysore sandalwood soap, stockpiled a while ago as mentioned, I can very well see why: the suds retain a smell that is beautifully nuanced, clean yet rich, midway between masculine and feminine, with a beautiful lingering effect of polished creaminess on silky pyjamas and dressing gowns.
The production of sandalwood essence
It is a time consuming process and depends on the maturity of the trees, the length of distillation time and the experience of the person distilling. Most time-honoured method of extraction of sandalwood oil has been hydro-distillation, lately phazed out by steam distillation and CO2 extraction (which is more realistic to the raw material of the wood, due to the reduction in heat processing)
The endangerement of natural Indian sandalwood
Especially in the famous Mysore region of Karnataca and of Tamil Nadu where they're protected by state law, even as early as the 1980s, the depletion of the trees due to over-harvesting has had several adverse effects:
This situation has required the gradual substitution of this precious ingredient in fine fragrance with synthetic varieties (gradually and to the rhythm of depletion of any given brand's inventory of raw materials), such as isobornyl cyclohexanol. Some of them are quite costly in themselves and beautiful to smell, as evidenced below, possessing some of the beloved "creamy", milky facets of natural sandalwood. From a technical standpoint the natural consistutents of sandalwood comprise terpenes, terpenols and terpenals, i.e.terpenoid alcohols.
Japanese temple incense is most often infused with the aroma of sandalwood in tandem with agarwood. Indian incense often is nothing but. From soap to shaving cream and from essence oil to fine fragrances, sandalwood is one of the most traditional and yet still popular "notes" in all of perfumery.
As I bathe my skin with real Mysore sandalwood soap, stockpiled a while ago as mentioned, I can very well see why: the suds retain a smell that is beautifully nuanced, clean yet rich, midway between masculine and feminine, with a beautiful lingering effect of polished creaminess on silky pyjamas and dressing gowns.
The production of sandalwood essence
It is a time consuming process and depends on the maturity of the trees, the length of distillation time and the experience of the person distilling. Most time-honoured method of extraction of sandalwood oil has been hydro-distillation, lately phazed out by steam distillation and CO2 extraction (which is more realistic to the raw material of the wood, due to the reduction in heat processing)
The endangerement of natural Indian sandalwood
Especially in the famous Mysore region of Karnataca and of Tamil Nadu where they're protected by state law, even as early as the 1980s, the depletion of the trees due to over-harvesting has had several adverse effects:
1) sandalwood oil is one of the most-often adulterated essential oils;
2) the cost of sandalwood oil is rising dramatically (about 25% per year);
3) due to the value of sandalwood oil, the trees are being illegally cut, leading to the waste of this precious resource as trees that are too young are cut, or trees are cut but the roots are left to rot (the roots are the most valuable part of the tree from which to extract the oil). Additionally, this illegal poaching has lead to several murders of forestry officials and other crimes indicative of the black market;
4) the resource is becoming scarce. The current production of sandalwood trees is not enough to meet the demand of consumers. The trees are difficult to propagate and must grow for at least 30 years to become suitable for harvesting. The forestry departments in India are regulating the amount of material that is cut and sold, but there are many demands for other use of the land – for example, cattle grazing, the need for wood to keep people employed, etc. [1]
This situation has required the gradual substitution of this precious ingredient in fine fragrance with synthetic varieties (gradually and to the rhythm of depletion of any given brand's inventory of raw materials), such as isobornyl cyclohexanol. Some of them are quite costly in themselves and beautiful to smell, as evidenced below, possessing some of the beloved "creamy", milky facets of natural sandalwood. From a technical standpoint the natural consistutents of sandalwood comprise terpenes, terpenols and terpenals, i.e.terpenoid alcohols.
- Sandalwood-Smelling Synthetic Ingredients
Several sandalwood synthetics nowadays comprise part of a perfumer's palette for both their technical merits (they are capsule forms of the effect of an otherwise very dense and demanding essence that is amazingly complex in nature), as well as for their isolated facets that boost one aesthetic choice over others, according to said perfumer's mood. Sometimes they can even co-exist as in the case of Guerlain's Samsara, the beautiful balance of natural and synthetic in one.
Among those synthetic sandalwood notes, Polysantol, a former Firmenich trademark, is quite popular thanks to its intense diffusion and realistic replication. Otherwise known as santol pentenol due to its structure it enters many a fragrance composition imparting herbal and almost tropical nuances with an animalic touch.
Beta santalol or technically (-)-(1'S,2'R,4'R)-(Z)-beta-santalol (interestingly its positive entaniomer is odourless) is also a nature identical typical sandalwood note. It's the reverse case for the enantiomers of alpha Photosantol, the positive being strong and diffusive, the negative weak. Process producing sandalwood organoleptic substances from camphogenic aldehydes produce the prized Firsantol, another Firmenich trademark and a favourite with perfumer and writer Arcadi Boix Camps. Levosandol by Takasago introduces a sharper, more austere cedar note within the creamy sandalwood impression picture. Ebanol [(1S,2'S,3'R)-Ebanol], a Givaudan trademark, on the other hand is noted for its potency. Symrise proposes its Fleursandol which has a very strong, animalic-laced sandalwood note with floral elements surfacing. Other sandalwood substitutes present various unexpected facets, from the very clean with phenolic/guaiac notes on top and cashmeran notes at the finish like some enantiomers of HomoPolysantol to the waxy, leathery of other enantiomers of the same ingredient. The quest for sandalwood substitutes is under way as we speak with several patents from Japanese companies under way and is only going to accelarate in the coming years, despite the illegal poaching in Mysore of immature trees or the import of sandalwood from other regions of the Far East.
A recent addition is a synth blend smelling of sandalwood tagged "HipNote Sandalwood", composed by Tru Fragrance (formerly Romane Fragrances), claimed by the company producing it to be picked by perfumer Harry Fremont of Firmenich no less: “The use of synthetic substitutes within the fragrance world, like those found in "HipNote Sandalwood" and many of the season’s product launches, are essential in assisting in sustainability efforts, helping to ensure the fragrance development process does not destroy natural resources. By using these synthetic blends, we are able to eliminate any allergens that are found in nature and create consistency across different batches of the same fragrance product,” adds Amy Braden, director of product development for Tru Fragrances. The limited edition HipNote Sandalwood is available by request in limited quantities via “Hipnozes by Tru Fragrance” on Facebook, a dynamic, interactive online community which you can visit at www.facebook.com/Hipnozes
Among those synthetic sandalwood notes, Polysantol, a former Firmenich trademark, is quite popular thanks to its intense diffusion and realistic replication. Otherwise known as santol pentenol due to its structure it enters many a fragrance composition imparting herbal and almost tropical nuances with an animalic touch.
Beta santalol or technically (-)-(1'S,2'R,4'R)-(Z)-beta-santalol (interestingly its positive entaniomer is odourless) is also a nature identical typical sandalwood note. It's the reverse case for the enantiomers of alpha Photosantol, the positive being strong and diffusive, the negative weak. Process producing sandalwood organoleptic substances from camphogenic aldehydes produce the prized Firsantol, another Firmenich trademark and a favourite with perfumer and writer Arcadi Boix Camps. Levosandol by Takasago introduces a sharper, more austere cedar note within the creamy sandalwood impression picture. Ebanol [(1S,2'S,3'R)-Ebanol], a Givaudan trademark, on the other hand is noted for its potency. Symrise proposes its Fleursandol which has a very strong, animalic-laced sandalwood note with floral elements surfacing. Other sandalwood substitutes present various unexpected facets, from the very clean with phenolic/guaiac notes on top and cashmeran notes at the finish like some enantiomers of HomoPolysantol to the waxy, leathery of other enantiomers of the same ingredient. The quest for sandalwood substitutes is under way as we speak with several patents from Japanese companies under way and is only going to accelarate in the coming years, despite the illegal poaching in Mysore of immature trees or the import of sandalwood from other regions of the Far East.
A recent addition is a synth blend smelling of sandalwood tagged "HipNote Sandalwood", composed by Tru Fragrance (formerly Romane Fragrances), claimed by the company producing it to be picked by perfumer Harry Fremont of Firmenich no less: “The use of synthetic substitutes within the fragrance world, like those found in "HipNote Sandalwood" and many of the season’s product launches, are essential in assisting in sustainability efforts, helping to ensure the fragrance development process does not destroy natural resources. By using these synthetic blends, we are able to eliminate any allergens that are found in nature and create consistency across different batches of the same fragrance product,” adds Amy Braden, director of product development for Tru Fragrances. The limited edition HipNote Sandalwood is available by request in limited quantities via “Hipnozes by Tru Fragrance” on Facebook, a dynamic, interactive online community which you can visit at www.facebook.com/Hipnozes
- Other Sandalwood Varieties of Different Origin
But not all perfumers or all fragrances aim to merely replicate that classic Indian sandalwood scent: In Le Labo's case in Santal 33 for instance they're quite clear on using Australian sandalwood (Santalum spicatum), which is a different variety than Mysore sandalwood (Santalum album): indeed the Australian variety is more pungent, sharper in its dryness, with less density, almost metallic in its fine smokiness, still compatible to scent of skin.
Another sandalwood tree variant sometimes used for its rich essence oil is Amyris balsamifera, or West Indian sandalwood or simply amyris: Though not a true sandalwood, it still bears the nuanced, distinctive smell and is useful in soap production (and increasingly fine fragrance, such as the latest Francis Kurkdjian Amyris duo of fragrances) where the Indian variety would rocket the cost to stratospheric heights.
Finally the New Caledonian sandalwood variety is yet another species with a scent profile between that of the Australian and the Mysore varieties and it looks like it's going to be supremely popular in the near future.
LIST OF FRAGRANCES WITH PROMINENT SANDALWOOD (in alphabetical order):
01 Nomad by Odin New York
Ref: Christian Chapuis, In the Quest for a Virtual Pseudo Receptor for Sandalwood-Like Odorants, Part I, Chemistry & Biodiversity, Volume 1, Issue 7, July 2004 [1] Eden botanicals
Another sandalwood tree variant sometimes used for its rich essence oil is Amyris balsamifera, or West Indian sandalwood or simply amyris: Though not a true sandalwood, it still bears the nuanced, distinctive smell and is useful in soap production (and increasingly fine fragrance, such as the latest Francis Kurkdjian Amyris duo of fragrances) where the Indian variety would rocket the cost to stratospheric heights.
Finally the New Caledonian sandalwood variety is yet another species with a scent profile between that of the Australian and the Mysore varieties and it looks like it's going to be supremely popular in the near future.
LIST OF FRAGRANCES WITH PROMINENT SANDALWOOD (in alphabetical order):
01 Nomad by Odin New York
1725 Casanova by Histoires de Parfums
Alain Delon pour Homme
Aramis by Aramis
Basala by Shiseido
Bel Ami by Hermes
Black Jeans by Versace
Bleu by Paul & Joe
Bleu de Chanel
Bois de Santal by Keiko Mecheri
Bois de Turquie by Maître Parfumeur et Gantier
Bois des Iles by Chanel
Boucheron femme by Boucheron
Burberry for Men
By Man by D&G
Cannabis Santal by Fresh
Cefiro by Floris
Chaos by Donna Karan
Chinatown by Bond no.9
Classic 1920 by Bois 1920
Comme des Garcons by Comme des Garcons
Contradiction for Men by Calvin Klein
Dolce Vita by Dior
Eau de Monsieur by Annick Goutal
Eau de Sandalwood by Le Jardin Retrouve
Eau de Santal Extreme by Floris
Egoiste by Chanel
Fahrenheit by Dior
Ginger Essence by Origins
Hasu-no Hana by Grossmith
Idole de Lubin
Jazz by Yves Saint Laurent
Le Male by J.P.Gaultier
Le Roi Santal by Comptoir Sud Pacifique
Les Saisons: Automne by Van Cleef & Arpels
Macassar by Rochas
Magical Moon by Hanae Mori
Maharadjah by Patricia de Nicolai
Mahora by Guerlain
No.1 for women by Clive Christian
Original Santal by Creed
Original Santal by Creed
Pleasures Sandalwood Amber Splash by Estee Lauder
Samsara by Guerlain
Sandalwood by Elizabeth Arden
Sandalwood by Pacifica
Samsara by Guerlain
Sandalwood by Elizabeth Arden
Sandalwood by Pacifica
Sandalo by Lorenzo Villoresi
Santal by L'Artisan Parfumeur
Santal by L'Artisan Parfumeur
Santal by Roger & Gallet
Santal 33 by Le Labo
Santal blanc by Serge Lutens
Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens
Santal Majuscule by Serge Lutens
Santal 33 by Le Labo
Santal blanc by Serge Lutens
Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens
Santal Majuscule by Serge Lutens
Santal Imperial by Creed
Santal Noble by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier
Santalum by Profumum
Tam Dao by Diptyque
Tam Dao by Diptyque
Ref: Christian Chapuis, In the Quest for a Virtual Pseudo Receptor for Sandalwood-Like Odorants, Part I, Chemistry & Biodiversity, Volume 1, Issue 7, July 2004 [1] Eden botanicals
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Three Cheers for Perfume Chemistry
Much as perfumery has often been the marketing story of virgins amassing jasmine petals at the crack of dawn in endless emerald fields on exotic lands (and it is a lovely image), some synthetic molecules created in the lab have irrevocably revolutionized the fragrance industry as we know it: Hedione, Galaxolide and Calone for instance have left a footprint as big as the Yeti’s in modern perfumery, accounting in some cases for a big percentage within a formula in and of themselves (see Trésor and Cool Water or the odd case of Dune for instance ~also the iconic fragrances touched by hedione).
Sometimes these molecules were arrived at years before they were popularised in mainstream compositions the consumer buys off the counter today: Calone for instance, which catapulted the "marine scents" trend in the 1990s, was patended as "Calone 1951" in as early as 1966 by the pharmaceuticals collusus Pfizer. Sometimes, on the other hand, new molecules are the very reason why specific styles of fragrances multiply like Gremlins: see the recent cases of Ambrox and synthetic oud.
Damascones and ionones have brought their own particular challenges and risk-taking through the course of the 20th century, ending in beautiful specimens (examples include Nahéma, Féminité du Bois, Nombre Noir). I have always had a soft spot for nitromusks myself, which I absolutely love in vintage creations due to their intimate and warm character, but of course science and the industry go on and we must adapt with the times...
I like to think that we’re upon a Brave New World in which the not-forgotten old artistry of naturals alongside the sleight of hand, that relies in the proper dosage of synthetics, will produce astounding and unprecedented results: Safraleine is a beautiful example, exactly because it brings on both spicy and subtly leathery facets to the fore with a restrained hand. We’re seeing a new sophisticated generation of aqueous and “ozonic” molecules too, away from the obvious “watermelon slap” of Calone: Scentenal (Firmenich), Cyclemone A and Floralozone (both IFF); for instance the latteris featured in otherwise earthy Vétiver Extraordinaire in Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle, where it juxtaposes freshness to the mustiness of the grass.
Alternatively, in some cases, modern technology aims to replicate retro effects which we used to miss due to depletion of the original and shortage of technical solutions. Let me mention some examples:
White Moss is an IFF patent to create a green-mossy accord at the base of some nouveau chypres such as Lauder’s Private Collection Jasmine White Moss. I think it’s an excellent addition to IFF's already impressive stable as it manages to bypass the “problem” of oakmoss restrictions (as inflicted by the industry-self-regulating body IFRA) while at the same time smelling as a proper green chypre base-accord should (comparable to the original Cristalle for instance).
Jovanol by Givaudan is creating the creaminess and intense lasting power which we had come to associate with the “creaminess” of sandalwood, its lactonic facet ~perfume speak for that warm, milky cozy, cuddly effect that older Orientals and woody fragrances with a preponderance on Mysore sandalwood used to have. The anisic note which we have come to associate with anisaldehyde and retro effects such as those in L'Heure Bleue is given new lease by Givaudan's captive Toscanol (which is in its turn substitutes the similar chavanol), used to mollify lavender compositions. And who can disregard Cashmeran, that tactile "cashmere woods" note embraced so lovingly by both mainstream fragrances (DK Cashmere Mist, Alien by Mugler, CKin2u, Fleur de Cristal by Lalique) as well as niche (The Beautiful Mind series Intelligence & Fantasy)? Its encompassing woody-musky-soft and sensual profile makes it a passe-partout ingredient.
I like one small detail about musks in particular, how the newest mascrocyclic Cosmone by Givaudan (a warm musk with a nuance of ambergris, smell in DelRae's Panache for instance) is taking on the expanse and beauty of the Cosmos to graft it unto its name. One better from the previous Galaxolide which was also astro-inspired in regards to nomenclature! And the ironic touch that it’s used in a fragrance bearing such a cunning name as Pi Neo, which means "new" in Greek. Isn’t perfumery dreamy?
picture of perfumer at Lever Laboratories in New Jersey, c.1950 via howstuffworks.com
Sometimes these molecules were arrived at years before they were popularised in mainstream compositions the consumer buys off the counter today: Calone for instance, which catapulted the "marine scents" trend in the 1990s, was patended as "Calone 1951" in as early as 1966 by the pharmaceuticals collusus Pfizer. Sometimes, on the other hand, new molecules are the very reason why specific styles of fragrances multiply like Gremlins: see the recent cases of Ambrox and synthetic oud.
Damascones and ionones have brought their own particular challenges and risk-taking through the course of the 20th century, ending in beautiful specimens (examples include Nahéma, Féminité du Bois, Nombre Noir). I have always had a soft spot for nitromusks myself, which I absolutely love in vintage creations due to their intimate and warm character, but of course science and the industry go on and we must adapt with the times...
I like to think that we’re upon a Brave New World in which the not-forgotten old artistry of naturals alongside the sleight of hand, that relies in the proper dosage of synthetics, will produce astounding and unprecedented results: Safraleine is a beautiful example, exactly because it brings on both spicy and subtly leathery facets to the fore with a restrained hand. We’re seeing a new sophisticated generation of aqueous and “ozonic” molecules too, away from the obvious “watermelon slap” of Calone: Scentenal (Firmenich), Cyclemone A and Floralozone (both IFF); for instance the latteris featured in otherwise earthy Vétiver Extraordinaire in Editions des Parfums Frederic Malle, where it juxtaposes freshness to the mustiness of the grass.
Alternatively, in some cases, modern technology aims to replicate retro effects which we used to miss due to depletion of the original and shortage of technical solutions. Let me mention some examples:
White Moss is an IFF patent to create a green-mossy accord at the base of some nouveau chypres such as Lauder’s Private Collection Jasmine White Moss. I think it’s an excellent addition to IFF's already impressive stable as it manages to bypass the “problem” of oakmoss restrictions (as inflicted by the industry-self-regulating body IFRA) while at the same time smelling as a proper green chypre base-accord should (comparable to the original Cristalle for instance).
Jovanol by Givaudan is creating the creaminess and intense lasting power which we had come to associate with the “creaminess” of sandalwood, its lactonic facet ~perfume speak for that warm, milky cozy, cuddly effect that older Orientals and woody fragrances with a preponderance on Mysore sandalwood used to have. The anisic note which we have come to associate with anisaldehyde and retro effects such as those in L'Heure Bleue is given new lease by Givaudan's captive Toscanol (which is in its turn substitutes the similar chavanol), used to mollify lavender compositions. And who can disregard Cashmeran, that tactile "cashmere woods" note embraced so lovingly by both mainstream fragrances (DK Cashmere Mist, Alien by Mugler, CKin2u, Fleur de Cristal by Lalique) as well as niche (The Beautiful Mind series Intelligence & Fantasy)? Its encompassing woody-musky-soft and sensual profile makes it a passe-partout ingredient.
I like one small detail about musks in particular, how the newest mascrocyclic Cosmone by Givaudan (a warm musk with a nuance of ambergris, smell in DelRae's Panache for instance) is taking on the expanse and beauty of the Cosmos to graft it unto its name. One better from the previous Galaxolide which was also astro-inspired in regards to nomenclature! And the ironic touch that it’s used in a fragrance bearing such a cunning name as Pi Neo, which means "new" in Greek. Isn’t perfumery dreamy?
picture of perfumer at Lever Laboratories in New Jersey, c.1950 via howstuffworks.com
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Perfumery Materials: Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones
Although often spoken in the same breath when describing fragrance notes pyramids ~standard industry speak for the breakdown of effects in perfume appreciation (a not exactly accurate or realistic means of communicating a scent)~ violet and violet leaves are not interchangeable. Indeed they're quite different, from the romantic, retro powdery feel of violets to the cucumber-metallic-oily effect of violet leaves which adorn not only greener violet scents, but also many masculine colognes.
Violet, has a coy profile in its symbolistic facets: The term "shy violet" is not random; the blossom naturally feels frail and trembling at touch, even though it is sturdy. Thus it traditionally stood for modesty, calmness and sleepiness, traits often associated with females in centuries past. Blue violets signified faithfulness, while white violets were of a happier disposition: they symbolized taking chances. The religious world associates violet with the Passion of Christ and indeed Easter rites in the Mediterranean basin include the use of complementary colors - violet and yellow - symbolic of Lent and the return of spring with its yellow crocuses and daffodils; to witness the two traditional flowers in the Epitaph procession are violets and lilacs, alongside the daffodils narcotizing one's nose in the open air of the evening marches of course: One blossom low-brow and serious like the Holy martyrdom; the other orgiastic like the pagan resurgence of the Dionysian spirit as expressed in the awakening of spring.
A symbol of ancient Athens where it was used in scenting wine and Napoleon Bonaparte’s favorite flower (who preferred it rather than Josephine's beloved musk), violet is a complicated matter in perfumery for two reasons: First, the natural extract of viola odorata (sweet violet/English violet), although it exists, is rarely used for reasons of cost and versatility. Secondly, because there is the distinction between violet flower and violet leaf: the two have a world of difference in terms of odor profile, but that’s not always clear in fragrance descriptions. The flowers have a sweet, powdery ~and when fresh slightly spicy~ note, while the leaf is earthy, green with a cut-grass feel.
The symbolism of violets as emblematic of death at an early age is apparent in the John Everett Millais painting "The Death of Ophelia" and violets which stood for constancy or devotion were traditionally used in mourning. Most people however associate violet with Parma Violets (as reflected in Borsari's Violetta di Parma) a violet-flavoured confectionary manufactured by the Derbyshire-based company Swizzels Matlow; or alternatively, depending on cultural memories, with Violettes de Toulouse, violets preserved by a coating of egg white and crystallised sugar still made commercially at Toulouse, France. (try it in fragrance in Berdoues Violettes de Toulouse). These tender, playful associations might account for the popularity of several sweet florals in the market, especially when coupled with the intensely feminine note of roses producing an almost "makeup" vanity-table effect, such as in L'Arisan Drôle de Rose and F.Malle Lipstick Rose or alternatively allied to modern "berries" tangy notes in Guerlain's Insolence.
In violets along with terpenes, a major component of the scent is a ketone compound called ionone, which temporarily desensitises the receptors in the nose; this prevents any further scent being detected from the flower. (This is why often people complain "I can't smell a thing!", it's not necessarily anosmia, but too much ionones!!) Ionones were first isolated from the Parma violet by Tiemann and Kruger in 1893. Violets naturally include irisone beta, which gives them part of their olfactory profile. The discovery of ionones enabled cheap and extensive production of violet scents, cataclysming the market with inexpensive violet colognes which became au courant in the first throes of the 20th century. The ionones palette ranges from the scent of fresh blossoms to mild woodsy sweet-floral tonalities, while methyl ionones possess a stronger woodsy nuance, similar to iris rhizomes, binding woody and floral notes perfectly such as in the masterful Lutens creations Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette.
Irone alpha (6-methyl alpha ionone) is a most popular ingredient among ionones in pure form due to its silvery woodiness and its hint of raspberry.
Maurice Roucel was the composer of the mournful, cooly wistful Iris Silver Mist for Lutens focused on the nitrile Irival . Violet is what gives Paris by Yves Saint Laurent its romantic facet beneath the embullient rose, but also the old-world powdery allure beneath the leather in Jolie Madame.
Violet Leaf absolute, on the other hand, smells herbaceous with an oily earthy nuance and naturally includes salicylates [more on which here]. Octin esters and methyl heptin carbonate are used to render the floral green violet leaf "note" with watery accents of melon and cucumber, customary in many modern masculine fragrances and the family of fougères (an aromatic group based on the accord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss). It also gave the older version of Farhenheit its distinctive feel. If you want to get a good impression of violet leaf in a contemporary composition, smell Eau de Cartier. Several of the greener violet fragrances in the market such asVerte Violette by L’artisan or La Violette by Annick Goutal explore those aspects. The Unicorn Spell by micro-niche brand Les Nez is a peculiar case where violet leaves take on the greeness of just cut husks of harricots verts.
In Dans Tes Bras by F.Malle the tone comes from Iraldeine, a base that helps recreate the freshness of violet flowers, alongside ionones and salicylates. The aromachemical α-n-methyl ionone became commercially available around 1935 in Haarmann & Reimer's Iraldeine Alpha rein and Givaudan's Raldeine A (the main constituent of Fath’s legendary Iris Gris) which Ernest Beaux ~good friends with Leon Givaudan~ is said to have included in 25% concentration in the long-lost Mademoiselle Chanel No.1 from 1942-1946 (as analysed and publicized in 2007 in Perfumer & Flavorist magazine). [Read more on the history of Chanel fragrances issued by Coco Chanel in the 1940s, such as Chanel No.11, No.55 and No.46 in this article]. A modern example of violet leaves in a feminine composition in a very contemporary context is provided by Balenciaga Paris fronted by Charlotte Gainsbourg. A good example of the co-existence of the two elements (violet notes and violet leaves) is presented in a new Marc Jacobs fragrance, Daisy Eau so Fresh.
In short, violets and violet leaves alongside ionones and the other molecules used to produce these nuances, are an integral part of modern perfumery and some of the most recognizable "notes" in fragrances any perfume enthusiast should be familiar with. Why don't you try some of the fragrances listed and see what you feel about them?
Top pic kindly provided by Anya McCoy for my use. The second pic displays "stocks" (which we also call violets in Greek), Matthiola Longipetala. The third pic is Millais' Ophelie via wikimedia commons.
Violet, has a coy profile in its symbolistic facets: The term "shy violet" is not random; the blossom naturally feels frail and trembling at touch, even though it is sturdy. Thus it traditionally stood for modesty, calmness and sleepiness, traits often associated with females in centuries past. Blue violets signified faithfulness, while white violets were of a happier disposition: they symbolized taking chances. The religious world associates violet with the Passion of Christ and indeed Easter rites in the Mediterranean basin include the use of complementary colors - violet and yellow - symbolic of Lent and the return of spring with its yellow crocuses and daffodils; to witness the two traditional flowers in the Epitaph procession are violets and lilacs, alongside the daffodils narcotizing one's nose in the open air of the evening marches of course: One blossom low-brow and serious like the Holy martyrdom; the other orgiastic like the pagan resurgence of the Dionysian spirit as expressed in the awakening of spring.
A symbol of ancient Athens where it was used in scenting wine and Napoleon Bonaparte’s favorite flower (who preferred it rather than Josephine's beloved musk), violet is a complicated matter in perfumery for two reasons: First, the natural extract of viola odorata (sweet violet/English violet), although it exists, is rarely used for reasons of cost and versatility. Secondly, because there is the distinction between violet flower and violet leaf: the two have a world of difference in terms of odor profile, but that’s not always clear in fragrance descriptions. The flowers have a sweet, powdery ~and when fresh slightly spicy~ note, while the leaf is earthy, green with a cut-grass feel.
The symbolism of violets as emblematic of death at an early age is apparent in the John Everett Millais painting "The Death of Ophelia" and violets which stood for constancy or devotion were traditionally used in mourning. Most people however associate violet with Parma Violets (as reflected in Borsari's Violetta di Parma) a violet-flavoured confectionary manufactured by the Derbyshire-based company Swizzels Matlow; or alternatively, depending on cultural memories, with Violettes de Toulouse, violets preserved by a coating of egg white and crystallised sugar still made commercially at Toulouse, France. (try it in fragrance in Berdoues Violettes de Toulouse). These tender, playful associations might account for the popularity of several sweet florals in the market, especially when coupled with the intensely feminine note of roses producing an almost "makeup" vanity-table effect, such as in L'Arisan Drôle de Rose and F.Malle Lipstick Rose or alternatively allied to modern "berries" tangy notes in Guerlain's Insolence.
In violets along with terpenes, a major component of the scent is a ketone compound called ionone, which temporarily desensitises the receptors in the nose; this prevents any further scent being detected from the flower. (This is why often people complain "I can't smell a thing!", it's not necessarily anosmia, but too much ionones!!) Ionones were first isolated from the Parma violet by Tiemann and Kruger in 1893. Violets naturally include irisone beta, which gives them part of their olfactory profile. The discovery of ionones enabled cheap and extensive production of violet scents, cataclysming the market with inexpensive violet colognes which became au courant in the first throes of the 20th century. The ionones palette ranges from the scent of fresh blossoms to mild woodsy sweet-floral tonalities, while methyl ionones possess a stronger woodsy nuance, similar to iris rhizomes, binding woody and floral notes perfectly such as in the masterful Lutens creations Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette.
Irone alpha (6-methyl alpha ionone) is a most popular ingredient among ionones in pure form due to its silvery woodiness and its hint of raspberry.
Maurice Roucel was the composer of the mournful, cooly wistful Iris Silver Mist for Lutens focused on the nitrile Irival . Violet is what gives Paris by Yves Saint Laurent its romantic facet beneath the embullient rose, but also the old-world powdery allure beneath the leather in Jolie Madame.
Violet Leaf absolute, on the other hand, smells herbaceous with an oily earthy nuance and naturally includes salicylates [more on which here]. Octin esters and methyl heptin carbonate are used to render the floral green violet leaf "note" with watery accents of melon and cucumber, customary in many modern masculine fragrances and the family of fougères (an aromatic group based on the accord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss). It also gave the older version of Farhenheit its distinctive feel. If you want to get a good impression of violet leaf in a contemporary composition, smell Eau de Cartier. Several of the greener violet fragrances in the market such asVerte Violette by L’artisan or La Violette by Annick Goutal explore those aspects. The Unicorn Spell by micro-niche brand Les Nez is a peculiar case where violet leaves take on the greeness of just cut husks of harricots verts.
In Dans Tes Bras by F.Malle the tone comes from Iraldeine, a base that helps recreate the freshness of violet flowers, alongside ionones and salicylates. The aromachemical α-n-methyl ionone became commercially available around 1935 in Haarmann & Reimer's Iraldeine Alpha rein and Givaudan's Raldeine A (the main constituent of Fath’s legendary Iris Gris) which Ernest Beaux ~good friends with Leon Givaudan~ is said to have included in 25% concentration in the long-lost Mademoiselle Chanel No.1 from 1942-1946 (as analysed and publicized in 2007 in Perfumer & Flavorist magazine). [Read more on the history of Chanel fragrances issued by Coco Chanel in the 1940s, such as Chanel No.11, No.55 and No.46 in this article]. A modern example of violet leaves in a feminine composition in a very contemporary context is provided by Balenciaga Paris fronted by Charlotte Gainsbourg. A good example of the co-existence of the two elements (violet notes and violet leaves) is presented in a new Marc Jacobs fragrance, Daisy Eau so Fresh.
In short, violets and violet leaves alongside ionones and the other molecules used to produce these nuances, are an integral part of modern perfumery and some of the most recognizable "notes" in fragrances any perfume enthusiast should be familiar with. Why don't you try some of the fragrances listed and see what you feel about them?
Top pic kindly provided by Anya McCoy for my use. The second pic displays "stocks" (which we also call violets in Greek), Matthiola Longipetala. The third pic is Millais' Ophelie via wikimedia commons.
Labels:
anosmia due to scent overuse,
body chemistry,
fragrance making,
ionones,
iraldeine,
irival,
material,
nitrile,
parma violets,
terpenes,
violet,
violet leaf,
violettes de toulouse
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Indole & Jasmine: Indolic vs. Non-Indolic or Dirty vs.Clean
Say the word jasmine among perfume circles and expect to see the characterisation of indolic being brandished a lot at no time. Expect to see upturned noses with "indolic" mentioned alongside "fecal" in the same breath. Is jasmine a "dirty" word? Who potty-trained it? These thoughts evolved in our mind as we re-examined the troubled relationship of perfume lovers to the perfumery "king of flowers", especially now that the weather is warm and jasmine vines are flowering like mad; and so decided to take things at the top.
Indole is often used as the scapegoat for "stinky" smells, but the truth is somewhat different. Originally indole is a portmanteau of the words "indigo" and "oleum", because the chemical substance named indole was first isolated by treatment of the indigo dye with oleum (oil), thus giving rise to indole chemistry.
Indole is an aromatic heterocyclic organic compound which contains a six-membered benzene ring fused to a five-membered nitrogen-containing pyrrole ring (don't worry if you're not great at chemistry, it will all make sense in a second); thus compounds which contain an "indole ring" (sequence of molecules) are accordingly named "indoles".
What does this mean? It smells "weird". But not necessarily of feces or poop, contrary to common knowledge! Organic chemistry on the whole isn't averse to naming names quite literally, especially when it comes to foul-smelling components: Hence we have cadaverine (for cadaver smell), putrescine (for the stench of garbage), skatole (from the Greek σκατό, litterally meaning shit), or butyric acid (the smell of rancid butter from the Greek βούτυρο/butter). No, the nomenclature of organic chemistry is pretty much to the point, which would pose serious doubts as to why leave such an appropriate scent out there with no fitting baptism!
The answer is simple: Pure indole, the one which is indeed present in feces and also in small part present in white flowers (such as jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and orange blossom; but also in honeysuckle and lilac, technically non white) doesn't really smell of poop in isolation. The white crystals of indole (mainly derived from coal tar) contribute to the effect, in tandem with other things (surely both feces and flowers contain myriads of molecules) but not in seperation so much. Isolated indole has a musty, weird moth-ball smell that is a little stale, reminiscent of decay, like something has gone off and you can't really pinpoint what it is. In presence of humidity and musky compounds it can become a little much, reminiscent of the ambience of a...toilet. In a way an "Eros & Thanatos" concept.
It's interesting to note that a common derivative is the amino acid tryptophan, calming neurotransmiter serotonin's percursor and an essential amino acid in the human diet. (It's isolated in caseine which is found in dairy products, but also in chocolate, oats, poultry, pumpking seeds, peanuts, spirulina and several others. Makes seeing food in a whole different way!).
But should the smell direct us into seperating white floral and jasmine fragrances into naturally-derived or not? In short, does an indolic scent indicate we're dealing with a fragrance containing natural jasmine? The answer isn't as easy as all that. It's true that natural jasmine essence, as used in the perfume industry, is dark and narcotic, containing about 2.5% of pure indole. This often gives a "full", lush and intimate ~some say naughty~ effect in the finished compound, making the jasmine "sexier" or "animalic" as described by perfume enthusiasts (the naughty effect is more due to paracresol, reminiscent of horses' smell). Try Serge Lutens' A la Nuit, also his Sarrasins (a different treatment of intimate) or Montale Jasmine Full, and you know what I am talking about. Olene by Diptyque is another one which has a dubious intimate ambience (described by someone as "one bad mama jama of a jasmine"), as does the extrait version of Joy by Jean Patou, sublimated in rosy and musky tones as well, and the heart of Bal a Versailles (flanked by naughty civet). Also try Bruno Acampora Jasmin. However you don't necessarily have to tread on jasmine to get copious amounts of indole either: Try a carnation scent as well: Carthusia Fiori di Capri. It can make walking in the park where dog owners routinely walk their dogs a completely novel experience in perception!
Nevertheless, the picking up of a poopy smell can't be a compass into actual composition after all: The natural oil requires the processing of tons of flowers raising the cost to 10,000$ per kilo of essence, while it would be perfectly easy to add seperate indole to synthetic substitutes in order to produce a compound that would be closed in value to 10$ per kilo. The difference in pricing is staggering, which explains why natural jasmine oil is today only used in minute amounts in specific extrait de parfum formulae and only there; the rest is mythos and marketing communication of the brands.
But not all jasmine fragrances need to be indolic either. Try the non-indolic Armani Sensi and Sensi White Notes. Also get a feel for Jasmine White Moss by E.Lauder or Voile de Jasmine by Bulgari. Nothing "dirty" about them whatsoever!
To construct a light, virginal jasmine without indole, the perfumer has several synthetic options (assuming they're not involved in the masochistic effort of taking the natural and getting it fractioned in order to remove the indole). Hedione in copious amounts is the first choice, as it reproduces a greener, dewier version in contrast to the natural jasmine absolute. It's combination (in elevated ratio within the "jasmine base" thus created) with benzyl acetate, benzyl salicylate (for diffusion and tenacity), alpha amyl cinnamaldehyde and linalool produces the desired effect. These jasmine fragrances are easy to wear, lighter in feel, less heady and do not pose the problem of reminding people of impolite (even if necessary) human functions.
The choice between heaven and hell, as they say, is yours!
If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Jasmine Series, Raw Aroma Materials of Perfumery
photos by Horst P.Horst in collaboration with Dali and Lisa with Harp.
Indole is often used as the scapegoat for "stinky" smells, but the truth is somewhat different. Originally indole is a portmanteau of the words "indigo" and "oleum", because the chemical substance named indole was first isolated by treatment of the indigo dye with oleum (oil), thus giving rise to indole chemistry.
Indole is an aromatic heterocyclic organic compound which contains a six-membered benzene ring fused to a five-membered nitrogen-containing pyrrole ring (don't worry if you're not great at chemistry, it will all make sense in a second); thus compounds which contain an "indole ring" (sequence of molecules) are accordingly named "indoles".
What does this mean? It smells "weird". But not necessarily of feces or poop, contrary to common knowledge! Organic chemistry on the whole isn't averse to naming names quite literally, especially when it comes to foul-smelling components: Hence we have cadaverine (for cadaver smell), putrescine (for the stench of garbage), skatole (from the Greek σκατό, litterally meaning shit), or butyric acid (the smell of rancid butter from the Greek βούτυρο/butter). No, the nomenclature of organic chemistry is pretty much to the point, which would pose serious doubts as to why leave such an appropriate scent out there with no fitting baptism!
The answer is simple: Pure indole, the one which is indeed present in feces and also in small part present in white flowers (such as jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and orange blossom; but also in honeysuckle and lilac, technically non white) doesn't really smell of poop in isolation. The white crystals of indole (mainly derived from coal tar) contribute to the effect, in tandem with other things (surely both feces and flowers contain myriads of molecules) but not in seperation so much. Isolated indole has a musty, weird moth-ball smell that is a little stale, reminiscent of decay, like something has gone off and you can't really pinpoint what it is. In presence of humidity and musky compounds it can become a little much, reminiscent of the ambience of a...toilet. In a way an "Eros & Thanatos" concept.
It's interesting to note that a common derivative is the amino acid tryptophan, calming neurotransmiter serotonin's percursor and an essential amino acid in the human diet. (It's isolated in caseine which is found in dairy products, but also in chocolate, oats, poultry, pumpking seeds, peanuts, spirulina and several others. Makes seeing food in a whole different way!).
But should the smell direct us into seperating white floral and jasmine fragrances into naturally-derived or not? In short, does an indolic scent indicate we're dealing with a fragrance containing natural jasmine? The answer isn't as easy as all that. It's true that natural jasmine essence, as used in the perfume industry, is dark and narcotic, containing about 2.5% of pure indole. This often gives a "full", lush and intimate ~some say naughty~ effect in the finished compound, making the jasmine "sexier" or "animalic" as described by perfume enthusiasts (the naughty effect is more due to paracresol, reminiscent of horses' smell). Try Serge Lutens' A la Nuit, also his Sarrasins (a different treatment of intimate) or Montale Jasmine Full, and you know what I am talking about. Olene by Diptyque is another one which has a dubious intimate ambience (described by someone as "one bad mama jama of a jasmine"), as does the extrait version of Joy by Jean Patou, sublimated in rosy and musky tones as well, and the heart of Bal a Versailles (flanked by naughty civet). Also try Bruno Acampora Jasmin. However you don't necessarily have to tread on jasmine to get copious amounts of indole either: Try a carnation scent as well: Carthusia Fiori di Capri. It can make walking in the park where dog owners routinely walk their dogs a completely novel experience in perception!
Nevertheless, the picking up of a poopy smell can't be a compass into actual composition after all: The natural oil requires the processing of tons of flowers raising the cost to 10,000$ per kilo of essence, while it would be perfectly easy to add seperate indole to synthetic substitutes in order to produce a compound that would be closed in value to 10$ per kilo. The difference in pricing is staggering, which explains why natural jasmine oil is today only used in minute amounts in specific extrait de parfum formulae and only there; the rest is mythos and marketing communication of the brands.
But not all jasmine fragrances need to be indolic either. Try the non-indolic Armani Sensi and Sensi White Notes. Also get a feel for Jasmine White Moss by E.Lauder or Voile de Jasmine by Bulgari. Nothing "dirty" about them whatsoever!
To construct a light, virginal jasmine without indole, the perfumer has several synthetic options (assuming they're not involved in the masochistic effort of taking the natural and getting it fractioned in order to remove the indole). Hedione in copious amounts is the first choice, as it reproduces a greener, dewier version in contrast to the natural jasmine absolute. It's combination (in elevated ratio within the "jasmine base" thus created) with benzyl acetate, benzyl salicylate (for diffusion and tenacity), alpha amyl cinnamaldehyde and linalool produces the desired effect. These jasmine fragrances are easy to wear, lighter in feel, less heady and do not pose the problem of reminding people of impolite (even if necessary) human functions.
The choice between heaven and hell, as they say, is yours!
If you haven't caught on the Perfumery Definitions series till now, please visit:
- Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
- Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
- Definition: Resinous & Balsamic
- Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
- Definition: Phenolic, Terpenic, Camphorous
- Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?
Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The Jasmine Series, Raw Aroma Materials of Perfumery
photos by Horst P.Horst in collaboration with Dali and Lisa with Harp.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Grasse-hoppers part2: tour highlights & raw materials draw!
Reflecting upon Grasse and the Côte d'Azur I find myself in an embarrassment of riches: Is it the Notre-Dame-de-Puy cathedral with its paintings by Rubens that I retain most dearly in my heart or the sweeping hill-top view to La Plaine des Roses where hundreds of roses are attentively cultivated for their precious nectar? Or is the afternoon sunshine that poored through the windows of our dilapidated old building, one among the many in the old town, making the ochre and Venetian-sienna-shaded walls come alive four hundred years after the original stones had been lain? The quaint, small region of Grasse, awash with both aromata of fine perfumery and diesel fumes of the traffic of the greater area, as well as the larger town of Cannes, are like two faded princesses retaining their past memories hidden into the corners of dusty rooms where old, yellowed letters of paramours were carefully tucked away in secret drawers.
Semi-rural but devoid of a matching atmosphere, Grasse especially is less romantic than anticipated, yet for the eternal student of both perfumery and culture it poses its own special challenges that seem none the less rewarding. Delving into the perfumery firms and factories through trusted connections is the best lesson of them all and I am glad I am able to offer an unprecedented gift for our readers: A Sampler of Raw Materials procured in the Grasse area for one lucky reader who will state their interest in the comments. Thus, we’re giving everyone a chance for pedagogical familiarization with the inner workings of fine perfumery. I trust you will appreciate the novelty of the offer!
But to revert to mapping out the rich experiences that the Riviera holds, one is at a loss on what to enumerate. Grasse holds a privileged spot, a few kilometers north of Pégomas, past Aurbeau-sur-Siagne and only a 20-minute ride from Cannes. The production of leather goods during the Renaissance took place principally in Montpellier, a town famous for its tanneries, which was closely rivaling Grasse. However it was only the later that rose to perfumery through the habit of scenting gloves and leather goods with floral essences from the abundant-producing area so as to dissipate the strong, pungent smells of the hides. Although initially Catherine de Medici, proud of her hands and a fan of leather gloves to protect them, ordered products from local artisans, it was Marie de Médicis (1575-1642), queen consort, who ~lured by perfumes from Cyprus, the famous chyprés~ sent for her Florentine perfumer Tombarelli to come to Grasse, where the flowers were renowned, instructing him to capture their ambience in perfumed essences. It was thus that Grasse knew a rebirth in economical terms and became The Perfume Capital ever since the 18th century thanks to the mild climate and the protected, sheltered embrace of the hills around.
The mimosa which garlands the area in late winter and early spring is perhaps the most famous of the local flora, imported originally by Captain James Cook from Australia and soon a favourite with the British aristocracy for their villas at Cannes. Queen Victoria herself used to sojourn at the Grande Hotel Grasse, a beautiful white building that is now referred to as Palais Provençal. Jasmine, a key ingredient of many perfumes and famously the culprit in the conception of Chanel No.5 by Ernest Beaux, was brought to the South of France by the Moors in the 16th century. Even though reputation has it that several tons of jasmine are harvested in the area still, the vines were not in bloom yet and even so the notorious Grasse jasmine is used in minute quantities in only the extraits of some prestigious perfumes. The 1860 construction of the Siagne canal for irrigation purposes is aiding the preservation of both these and (the very sparse) tuberoses fields. Wild lavender, as well as tamer varieties, grow around the area; hand-harvested selectively and distilled producing an exceptional aromatic oil. The town is awash with local aromata of various origins: In the lively market at La Place aux Herbes, Provençal herbs (rosemary, thyme, estragon), carrots and lettuces are sold by the kilo, tempting you into buying a little of each. Even the very area code of Grasse, 06130, has found its way into the name of a niche perfume brand, parfums Zero Six Cent Trente by local enterpreuneur Nicolas Chabert.
Nevertheless, today oils and essences for both fragrancing & flavouring come from around the world finding their way into Grasse and not one but four establishments dedicated to perfume touring grace its streets: The International Museum of Perfume and the parfumeries de Fragonard (with its own small museum), Molinard and Galimard. Besides those, there are factories of Mane, Robertet and Firmenich which operate producing their own products.
VISIT HIGHLIGHTS & GUIDE
Musée International de la Parfumerie
(International Museum of Perfumery) is located at 2 Boulevard du Jeu de Ballon, 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 8020
info@museesdegrasse.com (Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct-May: 10a-12:30p, 2p-5:30p W-M.)
Reopened in 2008 (it was originally inaugaurated in 1989), with a futuristic interior designer by Frédéric Jung, the Museum encompasses a large area that is best savoured slowly. The “scented” video screening is the most tourist-attracting but it is the presentation of plants used in the perfume industry which presents the most interest. Roaming amidst the exhibits that included thousands of pieces of scented memorabilia and beautiful bottles in every material imaginable, we’re struck by the travelling grooming essentials of fated Marie-Antoinette or the Japanese Koh-Do ritual utensils (Koh-Do is an ancient Eastern game involving smoking incense being passed to the participants)
Fragonard Parfumeur
BP 22060 1er Etage de l'Usine Historique
20 boulevard Fragonard 06132 Grasse
Phone : +33 (0)4 92 42 34 34
Email : fragonard@fragonard.com
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
Molinard perfumery
60, boulevard Victor Hugo, 06130 Grasse
Tel: +33 4 9336 0162
Email: tourisme@molinard.com,france@molinard.com
Visiting hours: Oct-May: 9a-12:30p, 2p-6p M-Su, Jun-Sep: 9a-6:30p M-Su.
Parfumerie Galimard
73 route de Cannes - 06131 Grasse
Tél : 04.93.09.20.00 Fax : 04.93.70.36.22
International: Tél : +33.4.93.09.20.00 Fax : +33.4.93.70.36.22
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
The Fragonard, Galimard and Molinard perfume factories offer free guided tours with multi-lingual options (including Russian and Japanese) while lush, floral scents fill the atmosphere with their delicious aroma. One is invited to watch part of the production and packaging process of the eaux de toilette, perfumes and surprisingly refined soaps first-hand, while the old perfumery equipment and several collectible bottles are also on display. The gift shops are awash with products at advantageous prices, if only a little pushy sales assistants, as is customary into tourist places. The Fragonard perfumery was founded by Eugene Fuchs paying tribute to local artists family, the Fragonards. Today the remains of the old factory are visited, while the production area has been transplated outside the city.
Molinard worked with Baccarat and René Lalique who widely contributed to the House's reputation with sober and elegant scent bottles for their first "soliflores" perfumes (jasmine, rose, violet). But in 1930 René Lalique created exclusive flacon designs for the House of Molinard and this saw the conception of the prestigious bottles such as "Iles d’Or", "Madrigal", or "Le baiser du Faune". Yet say Molinard and everyone recalls their exceptional tobacco oriental "Habanita", meaning "little girl of Havana".
Parfumerie Galimard on the other hand was founded by Jean de Galimard, Lord of Seranon, (a relation of Count de Thorenc and friend of Goethe), in 1747. Founder of the corporation of "Maitres Parfumeurs et Gantiers” (Glovemakers and Perfumers), he supplied the court of Louis " the well-beloved ", King of France, with olive oil, pomades, and perfumes of which he invented the first formulae. Their products still retain a charming rural air.
La Villa-Musée Jean-Honoré Fragonard
23 boulevard Fragonard 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 0161/+33 4 9705 5800
Email: info@museesdegrasse.com
Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct & Dec-May: 10a -12.30p, 2p-5.30p W-M
A villa turned into a museum, not to be confused with the Fragonard perfumery, this charming place buried amidst tall palm trees pays homage to three generations of Fragonards: Jean-Honoré, the father; his sister-in-law Marguerite Gérard; his son Alexandre-Évarisre; and grandson Théophile. The most famous, painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) ~whom you surely know through The Swing and Young Girl Reading~ is omnipresent through a copy of his work The Progress of Love originally rejected by the Duchess du Barry and now residing in New York City. The style of his paintings, French, elegant and erotic, is well transported into the Fragonard perfumes and scented goods as well, all lively and bursting with joie de vivre!
Robertet essences producing company
Established in 1850, Robertet counts itself among the oldest perfumeries in Grasse, but their creations are thoroughly modern as well, having created scents for Gucci, Bond No.9 and L’Oreal. Still, it is their high-quality raw materials which made them the stuff of legend among perfume cognoscenti. Earthy treemoss, iris rootlets, animalic beeswax, vanilla from Madagascar orchids, Amazonian tonka beans, champaca from India, and maté from Brazil produce an intoxicating blend of earthly delights enough to make the head spin. The refining process which happens repeatedly until the finest grade of raw material is attainable (especially when rendering absolute oils out of waxy concretes off precious flowers such as jasmine) can be customized to the client. It is here that the fractionizing of certain oils happens, such as patchouli where some of the headier more hippie-like facets are subtracted; thus the perfumer can custom the essence to their needs (For instance they might want more of the naturally chocolate-reminiscent facets emphasized or the more camphoraceous ones and so on). Among the loveliest of the raw materials here is the iris absolute: Initially herbaceous and almost medicinal, heavy and full of the earthy accent of the soil, it soon attains a woody and powdery prolonged skin-like effect. Roots can be left unpeeled to produce “iris noir” or they can be peeled to make a pale-shaded concrete (waxy substance) which is then refined through solvents into the absolute oil.
I was surprised to learn that iris is currently customarily paired with red berries; not only in perfumery such as in Insolence by Guerlain but also in the flavouring business, as it enhances and prolongs the tang of the berries! Even though originally perfumery iris best grade came from Florence, Italy, a variety known as Iris pallida, today different species come from Morocco and China (much like jasmine does) with shorter maturation periods lowering down the production cost. The original Italian iris needed a long careful harvesting of the rootlets, a drying out phase of a fortnight followed by three year period of maturation resulting in stratosperic prices.
The Firmenich perfumery branch in Grasse
Firmenich technicians and perfumers seem to favour the CO2 extraction process, also referred to as "supercritical fluid extraction" process; technologically speaking the most advanced method of oil production of them all, resulting in stunningly realistic essences such as pepper, heady tuberose or earthy carrot seeds. Carbon dioxide usually behaves as a gas or as a solid called "dry ice" when frozen. When the temperature and pressure are both increased, the material takes new properties behaving as a "supercritical fluid" ~above its critical temperature (31.1 °C) and critical pressure (72.9 atm/7.39 MPa)~ expanding to fill its container like a gas but with a density like that of a liquid. Supercritical CO2 is used as a perfect solvent due to its role in chemical extraction in addition to its low toxicity and environmental impact, but in what concerns perfumery it's the relatively low temperature of the process and the stability of CO2 which allows most compounds to be extracted with little damage or denaturing.
The white-coat lab technicians work silently for an array of products including detergents and cosmetics scents, while on the second floor where the fine perfumery is located people write up formulae up in their computer for the printed data to be given to laboratory assistants for the blending, before perfumers step in to evaluate and adjust. It’s a fascinating process, not to be missed if you have any sort of access!
For our readers, a sampler set of precious raw materials of fine perfumery is offered for a draw! Please leave a comment if you wish to enter. Submissions are open till Monday 3rd May 9pm.
Related reading: Read the rest of the Perfume Pilgrimage to the Riviera in part 1.
Semi-rural but devoid of a matching atmosphere, Grasse especially is less romantic than anticipated, yet for the eternal student of both perfumery and culture it poses its own special challenges that seem none the less rewarding. Delving into the perfumery firms and factories through trusted connections is the best lesson of them all and I am glad I am able to offer an unprecedented gift for our readers: A Sampler of Raw Materials procured in the Grasse area for one lucky reader who will state their interest in the comments. Thus, we’re giving everyone a chance for pedagogical familiarization with the inner workings of fine perfumery. I trust you will appreciate the novelty of the offer!
photo by Elena Vosnaki |
The mimosa which garlands the area in late winter and early spring is perhaps the most famous of the local flora, imported originally by Captain James Cook from Australia and soon a favourite with the British aristocracy for their villas at Cannes. Queen Victoria herself used to sojourn at the Grande Hotel Grasse, a beautiful white building that is now referred to as Palais Provençal. Jasmine, a key ingredient of many perfumes and famously the culprit in the conception of Chanel No.5 by Ernest Beaux, was brought to the South of France by the Moors in the 16th century. Even though reputation has it that several tons of jasmine are harvested in the area still, the vines were not in bloom yet and even so the notorious Grasse jasmine is used in minute quantities in only the extraits of some prestigious perfumes. The 1860 construction of the Siagne canal for irrigation purposes is aiding the preservation of both these and (the very sparse) tuberoses fields. Wild lavender, as well as tamer varieties, grow around the area; hand-harvested selectively and distilled producing an exceptional aromatic oil. The town is awash with local aromata of various origins: In the lively market at La Place aux Herbes, Provençal herbs (rosemary, thyme, estragon), carrots and lettuces are sold by the kilo, tempting you into buying a little of each. Even the very area code of Grasse, 06130, has found its way into the name of a niche perfume brand, parfums Zero Six Cent Trente by local enterpreuneur Nicolas Chabert.
photo by Elena Vosnaki |
VISIT HIGHLIGHTS & GUIDE
info@museesdegrasse.com (Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct-May: 10a-12:30p, 2p-5:30p W-M.)
Reopened in 2008 (it was originally inaugaurated in 1989), with a futuristic interior designer by Frédéric Jung, the Museum encompasses a large area that is best savoured slowly. The “scented” video screening is the most tourist-attracting but it is the presentation of plants used in the perfume industry which presents the most interest. Roaming amidst the exhibits that included thousands of pieces of scented memorabilia and beautiful bottles in every material imaginable, we’re struck by the travelling grooming essentials of fated Marie-Antoinette or the Japanese Koh-Do ritual utensils (Koh-Do is an ancient Eastern game involving smoking incense being passed to the participants)
BP 22060 1er Etage de l'Usine Historique
20 boulevard Fragonard 06132 Grasse
Phone : +33 (0)4 92 42 34 34
Email : fragonard@fragonard.com
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
60, boulevard Victor Hugo, 06130 Grasse
Tel: +33 4 9336 0162
Email: tourisme@molinard.com,france@molinard.com
Visiting hours: Oct-May: 9a-12:30p, 2p-6p M-Su, Jun-Sep: 9a-6:30p M-Su.
73 route de Cannes - 06131 Grasse
Tél : 04.93.09.20.00 Fax : 04.93.70.36.22
International: Tél : +33.4.93.09.20.00 Fax : +33.4.93.70.36.22
Visiting hours: 9a-noon, 2p-5:30p M-Sa, Summer: 9a-6p
The Fragonard, Galimard and Molinard perfume factories offer free guided tours with multi-lingual options (including Russian and Japanese) while lush, floral scents fill the atmosphere with their delicious aroma. One is invited to watch part of the production and packaging process of the eaux de toilette, perfumes and surprisingly refined soaps first-hand, while the old perfumery equipment and several collectible bottles are also on display. The gift shops are awash with products at advantageous prices, if only a little pushy sales assistants, as is customary into tourist places. The Fragonard perfumery was founded by Eugene Fuchs paying tribute to local artists family, the Fragonards. Today the remains of the old factory are visited, while the production area has been transplated outside the city.
Molinard worked with Baccarat and René Lalique who widely contributed to the House's reputation with sober and elegant scent bottles for their first "soliflores" perfumes (jasmine, rose, violet). But in 1930 René Lalique created exclusive flacon designs for the House of Molinard and this saw the conception of the prestigious bottles such as "Iles d’Or", "Madrigal", or "Le baiser du Faune". Yet say Molinard and everyone recalls their exceptional tobacco oriental "Habanita", meaning "little girl of Havana".
Parfumerie Galimard on the other hand was founded by Jean de Galimard, Lord of Seranon, (a relation of Count de Thorenc and friend of Goethe), in 1747. Founder of the corporation of "Maitres Parfumeurs et Gantiers” (Glovemakers and Perfumers), he supplied the court of Louis " the well-beloved ", King of France, with olive oil, pomades, and perfumes of which he invented the first formulae. Their products still retain a charming rural air.
photo by Fragonard |
23 boulevard Fragonard 06130 Grasse. Tel: +33 4 9336 0161/+33 4 9705 5800
Email: info@museesdegrasse.com
Visiting hours: Jun-Sep: 10a-7p M-Su, Oct & Dec-May: 10a -12.30p, 2p-5.30p W-M
A villa turned into a museum, not to be confused with the Fragonard perfumery, this charming place buried amidst tall palm trees pays homage to three generations of Fragonards: Jean-Honoré, the father; his sister-in-law Marguerite Gérard; his son Alexandre-Évarisre; and grandson Théophile. The most famous, painter Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) ~whom you surely know through The Swing and Young Girl Reading~ is omnipresent through a copy of his work The Progress of Love originally rejected by the Duchess du Barry and now residing in New York City. The style of his paintings, French, elegant and erotic, is well transported into the Fragonard perfumes and scented goods as well, all lively and bursting with joie de vivre!
Established in 1850, Robertet counts itself among the oldest perfumeries in Grasse, but their creations are thoroughly modern as well, having created scents for Gucci, Bond No.9 and L’Oreal. Still, it is their high-quality raw materials which made them the stuff of legend among perfume cognoscenti. Earthy treemoss, iris rootlets, animalic beeswax, vanilla from Madagascar orchids, Amazonian tonka beans, champaca from India, and maté from Brazil produce an intoxicating blend of earthly delights enough to make the head spin. The refining process which happens repeatedly until the finest grade of raw material is attainable (especially when rendering absolute oils out of waxy concretes off precious flowers such as jasmine) can be customized to the client. It is here that the fractionizing of certain oils happens, such as patchouli where some of the headier more hippie-like facets are subtracted; thus the perfumer can custom the essence to their needs (For instance they might want more of the naturally chocolate-reminiscent facets emphasized or the more camphoraceous ones and so on). Among the loveliest of the raw materials here is the iris absolute: Initially herbaceous and almost medicinal, heavy and full of the earthy accent of the soil, it soon attains a woody and powdery prolonged skin-like effect. Roots can be left unpeeled to produce “iris noir” or they can be peeled to make a pale-shaded concrete (waxy substance) which is then refined through solvents into the absolute oil.
I was surprised to learn that iris is currently customarily paired with red berries; not only in perfumery such as in Insolence by Guerlain but also in the flavouring business, as it enhances and prolongs the tang of the berries! Even though originally perfumery iris best grade came from Florence, Italy, a variety known as Iris pallida, today different species come from Morocco and China (much like jasmine does) with shorter maturation periods lowering down the production cost. The original Italian iris needed a long careful harvesting of the rootlets, a drying out phase of a fortnight followed by three year period of maturation resulting in stratosperic prices.
photo by Elena Vosnaki |
Firmenich technicians and perfumers seem to favour the CO2 extraction process, also referred to as "supercritical fluid extraction" process; technologically speaking the most advanced method of oil production of them all, resulting in stunningly realistic essences such as pepper, heady tuberose or earthy carrot seeds. Carbon dioxide usually behaves as a gas or as a solid called "dry ice" when frozen. When the temperature and pressure are both increased, the material takes new properties behaving as a "supercritical fluid" ~above its critical temperature (31.1 °C) and critical pressure (72.9 atm/7.39 MPa)~ expanding to fill its container like a gas but with a density like that of a liquid. Supercritical CO2 is used as a perfect solvent due to its role in chemical extraction in addition to its low toxicity and environmental impact, but in what concerns perfumery it's the relatively low temperature of the process and the stability of CO2 which allows most compounds to be extracted with little damage or denaturing.
The white-coat lab technicians work silently for an array of products including detergents and cosmetics scents, while on the second floor where the fine perfumery is located people write up formulae up in their computer for the printed data to be given to laboratory assistants for the blending, before perfumers step in to evaluate and adjust. It’s a fascinating process, not to be missed if you have any sort of access!
For our readers, a sampler set of precious raw materials of fine perfumery is offered for a draw! Please leave a comment if you wish to enter. Submissions are open till Monday 3rd May 9pm.
Related reading: Read the rest of the Perfume Pilgrimage to the Riviera in part 1.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Perfumery material: Oud/Aloeswood/Agarwood & Synthetic Substitutes
Oudh seems to be THE major trend in perfumery and as recently as this season we have two launches featuring it, the excellent Epic by Amouage and the shortly launching Al Oudh by L'Artisan Parfumeur. However, the market is becoming so increasingly busted by oud-this and oud-that that a closer examination of truths, rather than claims, is needed. Only if you have been living under a rock, have you not read a hundred times already that oud/aoudh/aloeswood is the aroma-rich prized resin produced by the pathological secretion of Aquillaria trees when attacked by a fungus.
Nevertheless, much as the ad copy circulating and the articles in glossies insist, there is a mythology built about oudh in western fragrances which doesn't exactly justify the tsunami of oud-based fragrances launched in the past few years. Several fragrances which feature notes of oud in fact use a synthetic substitute in lieu of the extra-expensive, ultra-rare ingredient: It was a mere consequence of the eternal law of offer and demand. That's how a designer scent with oud "notes" (YSL M7) even became possible. So many fragrances on all price levels as we will see below simply cannot be based on real oud.
Synthetic Oud in the Majority of Perfumes you say?
Even if the whole Southeastern jungle is eradicated in its pursuit, as apart from endagered, the mere process is so time consuming (often necessitating HUNDREDS of years for the noble rot to manifest itself sufficiently in the wood that produces the essence) that it's a logical impossibility. By Kilian freely admits using the synthetic, to their credit.
Firmenich, the aromachemicals giant, has a nicely rounded synthetic base, the Oud Synthetic 10760 E. Seriously hip niche brand Le Labo uses it in their Oud27. Interestingly the material bears some sentising dangers which might bring it into axing under a future IFRA Amendement perfumery restrictions policy.
Givaudan also have Agarwood Orpur/"Black Agarwood base" which is another product used to substitute the golden nectar in fragrance releases, reflecting the particular scent of burning Agarwood chips and amalgamating ambery, olibanum and balsamic nuances.
Somehow the above facts makes the price asked seen under a completely different light!Le Labo are not the only ones to employ these synthetics: Several fragrances have the discernible fingerprint of those aromachemicals all over them (Tom Ford Oud Wood uses Agarwood Orpur by Givaudan for instance, same goes for Bond No.9's offerings)
If the pace of using oud synths escalates everyone will be wearing "ouds", the way at some point they wore acquatics or gourmands a total defeat of the purpose of "coinnoisseurship" which is so brandished in the oud-selling game. Not to mention that by that time, with the help of Bath & Body Works, there will be an oudh for every budget (Ironically enough yes, there is one by B&BW as we speak!), which proves the statement above. But let's explore this fascinating material and the synthetics that often imitates it in this guide on building blocks of perfumery.
The cmplex natural material
Agarwood or Oud or Oudh or Aoud (the name taken from the province of Oudh) is the resinous heartwood from Aquilaria trees (predominantly from Aquilaria malaccensis), evergreens native to southeast Asia. As they become infected with mold (Phaeoacremonium parasitica, a dematiaceous fungus) they compensate by producing an aromatic resin over the course of several decades. The damage is so extensive that agarwood sinks in water. The growing of the infection results in a rich, dark resin within the heartwood. That resin is known as gaharu, jinko, aloeswood, agarwood, or oud/oude/oudh, valued in many cultures since antiquity for its distinctive aroma ~terribly complex with nutty, musty-earthy undertones redolent of undergrowth. Agar use dates back to prehistory: mentioned in the Bible, ancient Persian and Sanskrit religious texts and part of the first historical biographies in Sanskrit. Oud is also inextricably linked to Assam’ s cultural heritage, since the Indian monarchs employed the used bark of the Sasi Agar tree as writing-material for chronicling their royal circulars.
Oud nevertheless is prohibitevely expensive, fit for royalty only, even for niche and ultra-expensive brands and quite rare. One of the reasons for the rarity and high cost (above $62,000 cash for one kilo) of agarwood is the depletion of the wild resource: Since 1995 Aquilaria malaccensis has been listed in Appendix II by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, while in 2004 all Aquilaria species were listed in Appendix II, even though some countries have reservations for the latter listing. Middle Eastern or French perfumers seeking oud at source must establish ginormous bank funds in the pertinent countries, because governments are aware of the trade capitalizing on it. Additonal obstacles arise from the sheer reality of harvesting: Dead infected wood cannot be distilled and heavily infected live wood is not worth it as the wood itself is so more pricey. Thus the only wood distilled is live. Distillable wood is only good for a few months on the other hand, as the essential oil cells dry out, making oud a stratospherically expensive business.
Besides there are grades within the product: The highest quality comes from the tree's natural immune response (known as agarwood #1) while an inferior resin is rendered by deliberatily wounding aquilaria trees (agarwood #2, within which there aslo several grades of quality). Adulteration is not unheard of either, according to Tryvge Harris. The average oud available in the US will have changed hands at least 10 times (!), while rumours abound about Chinese factories who churn out beautiful but fake product ~made of the lowest possible grade agarwood soaked for a month in synthetic (European manufactured) oud. It's also worthy of note that Arabs are not that concerned with purity as might have been supposed, instead focusing on the pleasure principle the aroma brings.
Jenny, an amateur perfumer writing Perfume Making describes the sensation of smelling oud well:
The difference in smell in the finished product is also relative to how oud is treated as a "note" from a perfumery standpoint (regardless of whether it derives from a natural or a synthetic source): From the Band-Aid note of Montale's Aouds (due in several cases to the phenolic guaiacwood used in tandem) to the smoother versions like in M.Micallef Aoud Homme when the lactic notes can pop up under the shriller introduction. Le Labo went for a camphoraceous feel with pungent rather than burning tonalities, while Tom Ford extended the effect with lots of cedar.
Word of Mouth and Word of Mouse
The literature on oud is picking up fast with all the semi-underground fora, specialty blogs and even mainstream press mentioning the prized ingredient:
Fragrances with Oud Notes
Fragrances stating oud notes start as low-end as Culture by Tabac: Arena di Roma by Mäurer & Wirtz (2002) and as mainstream as Versace pour Homme (2008) or Farenheit Absolute by Dior (2009). Ava Luxe, an ultra-niche brand with remarkably low prices states oud as a note in her unisex Chaos. Of course there are several niche players involved as well: From "classic oudet-cadet" Montale (Aoud Leather, Black Aoud, Red Aoud, White Aoud, Bois d'Aoud, Louban, Aoud Rose Petals ~the latter incidentally is sublime~ etc.) and the Arabian real mcCoy El Haramain's line-up to By Kilian Arabian Nights Pure Oud (and Cruel Intentions) and Le Labo Oud27. And from the newest Midnight Oud by Juliette has a Gun all the way through Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Man (2004), M. Micallef Aoud Homme, all-naturals Ayala Moriel (Charisma, Megumi, Razala), Dawn Spencer Hurwitz (Prana) and Neil Morris (Taj, Fetish, Flowers for Men Gardenia, Burnt Amber). If you want to smell real, medicinal expensive natural oudh beyond any doubt to get a feel of the material go no further than Anya's Garden Temple: the fragrance is almost entirely comprised of oud's dense complex notes. Mona di Orio's Oud also uses an amount of the real thing, accounting for the very pungent yet layered smell.
And remember that as with anything when there is great demand, the offer tends to cut corners. Think about it next time you're asked stratospheric prices and go by the only rule-of-thumb that should apply in choosing fragrance: how much pleasure it gives you!
Additional reading on the Eastern use of aloeswood in incense as well on this link.
Painting of As Afuddaula, the nawab of Oudh via Exotic India Art. Pic of agarwood rot by Robert Blanchette, University of Minnesota, Advertisement of M7 via easycorner.com.
Nevertheless, much as the ad copy circulating and the articles in glossies insist, there is a mythology built about oudh in western fragrances which doesn't exactly justify the tsunami of oud-based fragrances launched in the past few years. Several fragrances which feature notes of oud in fact use a synthetic substitute in lieu of the extra-expensive, ultra-rare ingredient: It was a mere consequence of the eternal law of offer and demand. That's how a designer scent with oud "notes" (YSL M7) even became possible. So many fragrances on all price levels as we will see below simply cannot be based on real oud.
Synthetic Oud in the Majority of Perfumes you say?
Even if the whole Southeastern jungle is eradicated in its pursuit, as apart from endagered, the mere process is so time consuming (often necessitating HUNDREDS of years for the noble rot to manifest itself sufficiently in the wood that produces the essence) that it's a logical impossibility. By Kilian freely admits using the synthetic, to their credit.
Firmenich, the aromachemicals giant, has a nicely rounded synthetic base, the Oud Synthetic 10760 E. Seriously hip niche brand Le Labo uses it in their Oud27. Interestingly the material bears some sentising dangers which might bring it into axing under a future IFRA Amendement perfumery restrictions policy.
Givaudan also have Agarwood Orpur/"Black Agarwood base" which is another product used to substitute the golden nectar in fragrance releases, reflecting the particular scent of burning Agarwood chips and amalgamating ambery, olibanum and balsamic nuances.
Somehow the above facts makes the price asked seen under a completely different light!Le Labo are not the only ones to employ these synthetics: Several fragrances have the discernible fingerprint of those aromachemicals all over them (Tom Ford Oud Wood uses Agarwood Orpur by Givaudan for instance, same goes for Bond No.9's offerings)
If the pace of using oud synths escalates everyone will be wearing "ouds", the way at some point they wore acquatics or gourmands a total defeat of the purpose of "coinnoisseurship" which is so brandished in the oud-selling game. Not to mention that by that time, with the help of Bath & Body Works, there will be an oudh for every budget (Ironically enough yes, there is one by B&BW as we speak!), which proves the statement above. But let's explore this fascinating material and the synthetics that often imitates it in this guide on building blocks of perfumery.
The cmplex natural material
Agarwood or Oud or Oudh or Aoud (the name taken from the province of Oudh) is the resinous heartwood from Aquilaria trees (predominantly from Aquilaria malaccensis), evergreens native to southeast Asia. As they become infected with mold (Phaeoacremonium parasitica, a dematiaceous fungus) they compensate by producing an aromatic resin over the course of several decades. The damage is so extensive that agarwood sinks in water. The growing of the infection results in a rich, dark resin within the heartwood. That resin is known as gaharu, jinko, aloeswood, agarwood, or oud/oude/oudh, valued in many cultures since antiquity for its distinctive aroma ~terribly complex with nutty, musty-earthy undertones redolent of undergrowth. Agar use dates back to prehistory: mentioned in the Bible, ancient Persian and Sanskrit religious texts and part of the first historical biographies in Sanskrit. Oud is also inextricably linked to Assam’ s cultural heritage, since the Indian monarchs employed the used bark of the Sasi Agar tree as writing-material for chronicling their royal circulars.
Oud nevertheless is prohibitevely expensive, fit for royalty only, even for niche and ultra-expensive brands and quite rare. One of the reasons for the rarity and high cost (above $62,000 cash for one kilo) of agarwood is the depletion of the wild resource: Since 1995 Aquilaria malaccensis has been listed in Appendix II by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, while in 2004 all Aquilaria species were listed in Appendix II, even though some countries have reservations for the latter listing. Middle Eastern or French perfumers seeking oud at source must establish ginormous bank funds in the pertinent countries, because governments are aware of the trade capitalizing on it. Additonal obstacles arise from the sheer reality of harvesting: Dead infected wood cannot be distilled and heavily infected live wood is not worth it as the wood itself is so more pricey. Thus the only wood distilled is live. Distillable wood is only good for a few months on the other hand, as the essential oil cells dry out, making oud a stratospherically expensive business.
Besides there are grades within the product: The highest quality comes from the tree's natural immune response (known as agarwood #1) while an inferior resin is rendered by deliberatily wounding aquilaria trees (agarwood #2, within which there aslo several grades of quality). Adulteration is not unheard of either, according to Tryvge Harris. The average oud available in the US will have changed hands at least 10 times (!), while rumours abound about Chinese factories who churn out beautiful but fake product ~made of the lowest possible grade agarwood soaked for a month in synthetic (European manufactured) oud. It's also worthy of note that Arabs are not that concerned with purity as might have been supposed, instead focusing on the pleasure principle the aroma brings.
Jenny, an amateur perfumer writing Perfume Making describes the sensation of smelling oud well:
"The scent of Oudh sometimes called Agarwood or Eaglewood is so incredible wonderful. It has all kinds of shades, it's smokey, deep woody, a bit sweet in an intriguing way. It even has some green notes and some kind of mouldy notes. It's hard to describe the scent. It reminds me of a blend of vetiver, birch tar, sandalwood, guiacwood, vetiveryl acetate, patchouli and some spicy notes like the note of clove".One of her readers gives a price ballpart as well: The pure Oudh Oil Grade A costs about USD300.00/12mls (1 Tola) and the Resins for Grade AAA is about USD 7,000.
The difference in smell in the finished product is also relative to how oud is treated as a "note" from a perfumery standpoint (regardless of whether it derives from a natural or a synthetic source): From the Band-Aid note of Montale's Aouds (due in several cases to the phenolic guaiacwood used in tandem) to the smoother versions like in M.Micallef Aoud Homme when the lactic notes can pop up under the shriller introduction. Le Labo went for a camphoraceous feel with pungent rather than burning tonalities, while Tom Ford extended the effect with lots of cedar.
Word of Mouth and Word of Mouse
The literature on oud is picking up fast with all the semi-underground fora, specialty blogs and even mainstream press mentioning the prized ingredient:
"Oud (pronounced ood) smells expensive and it is. What it perhaps has going for it most is its obscurity and ineffability. There really is nothing quite like it. Hence its appeal. While the cultivation of agarwood can be traced back to ancient Asian civilizations, only recently has oud become the note du jour in high-end Western fragrances from Yves Saint Laurent's M7 to Tom Ford's Oud Wood."Thus says Amy Verner on the Globe and Mail, only to semi-contradict herself later stating:
"Just don't expect to see oud featured in mainstream fragrances any time soon. Since it's not only rare but pricey, most experts think that it will remain on its rarefied perch." [ed.note: We already stated that Tom Ford's posh Oud Wood uses a synthetic anyway]The truth is somewhat different than what you often read in the press, as we have proven.
Fragrances with Oud Notes
Fragrances stating oud notes start as low-end as Culture by Tabac: Arena di Roma by Mäurer & Wirtz (2002) and as mainstream as Versace pour Homme (2008) or Farenheit Absolute by Dior (2009). Ava Luxe, an ultra-niche brand with remarkably low prices states oud as a note in her unisex Chaos. Of course there are several niche players involved as well: From "classic oudet-cadet" Montale (Aoud Leather, Black Aoud, Red Aoud, White Aoud, Bois d'Aoud, Louban, Aoud Rose Petals ~the latter incidentally is sublime~ etc.) and the Arabian real mcCoy El Haramain's line-up to By Kilian Arabian Nights Pure Oud (and Cruel Intentions) and Le Labo Oud27. And from the newest Midnight Oud by Juliette has a Gun all the way through Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Man (2004), M. Micallef Aoud Homme, all-naturals Ayala Moriel (Charisma, Megumi, Razala), Dawn Spencer Hurwitz (Prana) and Neil Morris (Taj, Fetish, Flowers for Men Gardenia, Burnt Amber). If you want to smell real, medicinal expensive natural oudh beyond any doubt to get a feel of the material go no further than Anya's Garden Temple: the fragrance is almost entirely comprised of oud's dense complex notes. Mona di Orio's Oud also uses an amount of the real thing, accounting for the very pungent yet layered smell.
And remember that as with anything when there is great demand, the offer tends to cut corners. Think about it next time you're asked stratospheric prices and go by the only rule-of-thumb that should apply in choosing fragrance: how much pleasure it gives you!
Additional reading on the Eastern use of aloeswood in incense as well on this link.
Painting of As Afuddaula, the nawab of Oudh via Exotic India Art. Pic of agarwood rot by Robert Blanchette, University of Minnesota, Advertisement of M7 via easycorner.com.
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