Guerlain Myrrh & Delires: new fragrance

Guerlain is issuing an exclusive boutique-circuit fragrance in 2012!

According to Fragrantica, Myrrh & Delires is "a soft oriental composition based on mysterious myrrh with additional floral notes (rose, jasmine), precious woods (with the leading role of patchouli), vanilla and musk". Myrrh & Delires will join the L'Art et la Matière line in the characteristic oblong bottles.

In the history of fragrances, myrrh is one the first sacred essences offered to gods with frankincense and gold. Symbolic and mysterious, tears of the myrrh tree are amber-like, coming for Somalia or Arabia. Solar, aromatic, mossy, myrrh is multifaceted but quite radical to work in a fragrance. In fragrances, myrrh was quite never used. Fortunately, its oriental texture and smell suits perfectly in this ninth creation that Thierry Wasser softly composed by few floral notes with fruity, spicy nuances.

You can find reviews of the previous Guerlain L'Art et la Matiere scents in our archives linked.

pic via lamodadubai.com

Guerlain Tonka Imperiale: fragrance review & draw

"From his brown and golden fur
Comes such sweet fragrance that one night
I was perfumed with it because
I caressed him once, once only".

Thus writes Charles Baudelaire in his poem Le Chat (The Cat) defining the tamer interpretation of le parfum fourrure ("fur coat perfume"; for more info on this concept please refer to this article and this one). That feeling could equally well apply to the newest Guerlain exclusive, Tonka Impériale (Imperial Tonka). That is, if you rolled your cat onto caramel and roasted almond powder, assuming via some paradox of nature this feline was sympathetic to humans' desserts and borderline torturous treatment! Tonka Impériale is such a strange and compeling dessert following the manner of la grande patiserrie chez Guerlain, but also underscoring the composition with alternating sweetness & bitterness, luscious deep backgrounds and the multi-faceted nuances of one of the most prized materials of classic Guerlains, tonka bean.

Tonka, with its rich coumarin load, takes pride of place in the notorious Guerlinade, the common "thread" which characterises some of the classic scents of the house, so an étude on this material within a line which focuses on new spins on standardised materials (L’Art et la Matière within Guerlain's boutique scents portfolio) was a natural. Rather in reverse to what Liszt did to Paganini's motifs however, Thierry Wasser, the in-house perfumer at Guerlain who also composed Tonka Impériale assisted by art director Sylvaine Delacourte, subtracts elements from the classical Guerlains to render a purer, more direct and insistent message, like abstract art interpreting an idea of the Baroque Masters. The fragrance doesn't waver or develop, but manages to appear modern while retaining the luxurious and saturated quality of the old creations. A solinote on this material was sorely lacking for a house who has made it the sine qua non of their olfactory tradition and this new offering is salivatingly tempting, even for non gourmand-following folks!

Tonka bean (coming from the South American tree dipteryx odorata) is an exceptional and costly material that presents fascinating facets of culinary delights; from aniseed and licorice notes as well as macaroons, salty toffees and blond tobacco all the way to hay and toasted bread. The comforting factor these facets naturally exude is here coupled to an overdose of rosemary (according to Olfactorum and Esprit de Parfum). The pairing is logical: the almost salty, andorgynous end of tonka is close to culinary herbs. But the comfort factor should in no way evoke an Earth Mother type! In a way this is a modern play on the unisex idea of Jicky: the fougère nuance of lavender (here replaced by rosemary) played on the more langoruous scale of a semi-oriental thanks to the vanillic base (here the more honeyed, caramel and woody tonalities are accentuated). But it will also remind to some the honeyed veil (mimosa, orange flower, heliotropin) of L'Heure Bleue and its bittersweet harmony. Like every great groumand oriental that respects itself, it is also a little bit "poisonous" thanks to the coumarin.

The effect materialising in Tonka Impériale is an amazingly restrained and balanced oriental gourmand (much more in check, less boozy than Spiritueuse Double Vanille; equally delicious and wearable to Cuir Beluga) that I voted for with my Visa, as you can see from my photographs. Wearing it on winter sweaters and scarfs (where it clings for days radiating seductively) is akin to getting caressed by a honey mink étole while smelling fine cigars in a salon de thé serving the most delicious almond pralines on panacotta. Those who would be intellectually intrigued to see Guerlain spin a David Hockney and who keep their lava lamp close by will be left critisizing Guerlain for bourgeoiserie. Those who appreciate keeping the heritage alive will embrace Tonka Impériale with enthusiasm.

Notes for Guerlain Tonka Impériale: rose, orange blossom, rosemary, honey, gingerbread, almond, tonka bean, hay, tobacco, amber, vanilla
Tonka Impériale is available exclusively at Guerlain boutiques & spaces at 168 euros/230$ for 75ml of Eau de Parfum, from February 1st.

For our readers, to give them a chance to try this fabulous new fragrance, a big sample will be handed out to one lucky winner. Draw is now closed, thanks for participating!

All photographs by Elena Vosnaki/Perfumeshrine. Click to enlarge.

Cuir Beluga by Guerlain: fragrance review

"Beluga" in most people’s minds is tied to caviar associations, the richest and costliest variety actually, yet not the one on top of every gourmet’s list who often go for Sevruga with its more delicate, less fatty taste and smaller dark beads.
I was therefore surprised to find out that apart from Guerlain's exclusive fragrance Cuir Béluga , the name also refers to a species of small whale (Delphinapterus leucas) that is almost white in colour and completely endearing to watch. Beluga after all is white in Russian! The full name of course hints at some terrible cruelty that would have Brigitte Bardot up in arms, and justifiably so.
However no whale hide is necessary for the production of this scent and there is no other leather smell discernible to me or anyone else either. The chemical ingredient isobutyl quinoline that is most often used to render such a note is hard to miss, due to its bombastic character that has the ability to obliterate other scents. Even in Shalimar, the quinolines are there, under the plush. Thus, Cuir Béluga resembles a trompe l’oeil, the artistic effect of visually hinting at something that isn’t actually there; or even the manner of painter Magritte and his way of making us think in a completely different way than usual.

Created by Olivier Polge, son of famous Chanel nose Jacques Polge, the man who created such commercially successful numbers as Coco Mademoiselle and Allure, it promised the innovation and dare of a person who is young and willing to take a risk; the stance of someone who has artistic freedom to do as he pleases. However, regarding Cuir Béluga a risk it certainly does not take.
The Guerlain brief says about it: "A fragrance suggesting the absolute, contemporary luxury of leather. An initial burst of aldehydic mandarin orange, strengthened by everlasting flowers/immortelle contributes a luminosity all its own, then merges into deeper, sophisticated notes of leather, amber, heliotrope and vanilla".
The immortelle note, often compared to fenugreek, is nowhere near the omnipresence found in Annick Goutal’s Sables , the intense Middle Estern reference of El Attarine or even in the much tamer L de Lolita Lempicka. The hard, craggy Mediterranean beach cannot survive in the pedigreed salons of Paris, that’s understood. But neither is amber particularly present, never managing to make a full appearance on the dry down phase, making the composition somewhat linear.

Starting and finishing with a lullaby of soft suede-soft vanilla, with elements of slight bittersweet taste that is the heliotrope note echoing the minimalist composition of Eau d’hiver by Frederic Malle or Etro’s Heliotrope (but less sweet), it resembles the classic Hans Christian Andersen tale of the girl who sold matches: she glimpses the warmth of the rich house with the garlanded Christmas tree and the table full of delicacies, but it’s only behind the cold pane of glass. Never in my life have I smelled such an aloof vanilla. Although it has a very pleasant effect and is undoubtedly a delectable smell that would never become suffocating and heavy like many vanillic perfumes inadvertently do, it somehow cannot justify the cachet of exclusivity when it could just as easily sit on the shelf of a less exclusive store making gigantic sales by its lovely inoffensiveness. Wish it were widely available!

Notes for Cuir Beluga by Guerlain:
immortelle (everlasting flower), leather, amber, vanilla, mandarin, heliotrope

Cuir Béluga forms part of the L'Art et la Matière line sold exclusively at boutiques Guerlain and the Guerlain espace at Begdrof Goodman, in tall architectural bottles with the name on the side in a wide golden "band" and an optional bulb atomiser included (My advice on those is not to leave them attached on the bottle as they allow evaporation of the juice).

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: the Guerlain series, the Leather Series

Painting A couple by Fernando Botero via art.com. Pic of Beluga whale via wikimedia. Pic of bottles via Guerlain.

Rose Barbare by Guerlain: fragrance review

Barbaric rose, rose of Attila, rose of the Goths, Rosicrucian and mystic. Where are you? The lines of Walt Whitman in my ears: "I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world".
Or even this:

"November sun is sunlight poured through honey:
Old things, in such a light, grow subtle and fine.
Bare oaks are like still fire.
Talk to me: now we drink the evening's wine.
Look, how our shadows creep along the grave!--
And this way, how the gravel begins to shine!

This is the time of day for recollections,
For sentimental regrets, oblique allusions,
Rose-leaves, shrivelled in a musty jar.
Scatter them to the wind! There are tempests coming.
It is dark, with a windy star.

If human mouths were really roses, my dear,
-- (Why must we link things so?--)
I would tear yours petal by petal with slow murder.
I would pluck the stamens, the pistils,
The gold and the green,
-- Spreading the subtle sweetness that was your breath
On a cold wave of death....

Now let us walk back, slowly, as we came.
We will light the room with candles; they may shine
Like rows of yellow eyes.
Your hair is like spun fire, by candle-flame.
You smile at me--say nothing. You are wise.

For I think of you, flung down brutal darkness;
Crushed and red, with pale face.
I think of you, with your hair disordered and dripping.
And myself, rising red from that embrace".

~from a poem by Conrad Aiken (1889-1973)

Rose Barbare by Guerlain is an elegant rendition of a floral composition that features rose notes, soft and a little astringent at times on my skin, like the Centifolia variety grown in Grasse rather than the opulent Damascena of the Ottoman and the Bulgarian variety. Rather sweet and not particularly powdery, underscored with some peach fruit ~but not as loudly fruity as Sa Majesté La Rose by Serge Lutens, nor as mysteriously chypré as Rose de Nuit by the same house~ Rose Barbare bears a passing resemblance with Nahéma, especially as it develops on skin. However the latter is fiestier, like a red-haired woman in wrath, whereas Rose Barbare is a dark blonde affair of sweetness, chic and insouciance.
Although the formal brief talks about a "heady and incisive Ottoman rose", I don’t find this one heady nor incisive. On the contrary it is light and chyprish and quite modern, in a retro-chic way that is au courant. It is a proud young scent, made for a house that needs an injection of young clientele.
Personally I am a little overwhelmed by Nahéma, so the prospect of a less potent rose would seem like a good idea to a person who is no big rose lover by my own admition. But it is also supposed to harness other elements of the Guerlain tradition and the chypré base of Mitsouko, Parure and Sous le Vent is one of them. Mitsouko has achieved legendary status through the years and is often used as an example of what great art in perfumery can achieve. However its impact on modern noses is demystifying and for that reason Guerlain probably wanted to keep the best elements of it and modernize the idea behind it. But whereas Mitsouko is all loss and poignant introversion, Rose Barbare is pride and prickly fingers.
The addition of synthetic musks, some honeyed fruit and aldehyde C11 gives both booziness and volume to the scent of Rose Barbare and alludes to its rich heritage. This one is a perfectly soft composition with some grassy accents and a base that hides a green and dusty quality reminiscent of oak moss, but not quite (since the latter is one ingredient that has had its fair share of allegations to be an irritant); instead patchouli, like in most modern "chypres", with its rich aroma anchors the composition into deeper waters of sexuality that might lure me in to explore further my dysfunctional relationship with rose.
Created by nose Francis Kurkdjian, who was one half of the creative team behind the winning composition of the mesmerizing Narciso Rodriguez for Her perfume, conceived in only three weeks for the opening of the renovated main boutique La Maison Guerlain at 68 Avenue des Champs-Elysées, Paris in 2005 and without a brief from the House according to Chandler Burr, it is a feat; a little enigma in that it stands alone in its pedestal as something unique, but at the same time it doesn’t produce a visceral reaction to it, which is perhaps to its detriment.

Notes for Rose Barbare by Guerlain:
honey, rose, spices

Rose Barbare forms part of the L'Art et la Manière line sold exclusively at boutiques Guerlain and the Guerlain espace at Begdrof Goodman, in tall architectural bottles with the name on the side in a wide golden "band" and an optional bulb atomiser included (My advice on those is not to leave them attached on the bottle as they allow evaporation of the juice).

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: the Guerlain series.

Painting courtesy of mica1224art/Flickr. Bottles pic via Guerlain.

Cruel Desires ~Cruel Gardenia by Guerlain: fragrance review

Leafing through Colette's book “Flowers and Fruit” I stumble upon this quote from “A Gardenia's Monologue”:

"That flower boasts of its heady scent [...]throwing the ignorant girl into a science I have taught her . . . and the round world reckons one more night of folly."

She then goes on to compare the heady aroma to orange blossoms and raw mushrooms, alluding to the flower's dirty underside that evokes the sweet, yet earthy decay that permeates its essence. I am wondering what she would have thought of Cruel Gardénia, the latest addition in the L’art et la Matière line by Guerlain. I had been postponing reviewing the fragrance immersed as I was in thought myself, dissecting it like an entomologist would do with a rare lepidopter for months.

Gardenias are elusive in that their heady sweetness cannot be accurately and abundantly extracted from the waxy petals. Therefore ingenious recreation should come to the play, trying to replicate the smell. Too often the compositions named "gardenia" smell anything but. Whether intentionally, like in Chanel’s paradigm ~which was actually inspired by a garden (therefore “garden-ia” and smelling of a mix of white flowers) and the decorative motif of the blossom popular in the 1920s~ or Goutal’s who driven by her dislike of gardenia despite advice that the US market asked for one went instead for rubbery tuberose in her Gardenia Passion, or unintentionally like by Floris, they pose their own enigma. Sometimes the experiment is quite successful in its photographic accuracy, such as in the budding Yves Rocher Pur désir de Gardenia or the creamy Lauder’s Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia, and other times in its tropical ambiance evoked such as in Kai.
Guerlain was faced with a dilemma: should they include a gardenia scent in their magnificent stable of exclusives? After all, gardenias with subtle clean musks backgrounds are supposedly very popular with American consumers and the fact that Cruel Gardénia in an unprecedented move launched first in the US and only some months later in Paris is quite telling in its own way. It seemed like hubris! Yet the result is exquisitely pretty and contradictory to its own name, being neither cruel, nor much gardenia-like. French wordplay on the expression l’art et la manière (=art and manner) produced fragrances that belie their baptism so far: the Rose wasn’t Barbare, Angélique was nowhere near Noire, Cuir Beluga was only imperceptibly leathery and only Bois d’Armenie was true to its name.

Perfumer Randa Hammami of Symrise worked along with art director Sylvaine Delancourt to ply damask rose, peach and neroli into this abstract gardenia accord, which is further enhanced by the popular rose-violet-orris combination that graces several powdery bestsellers of late such as Kenzo Flower or Guerlain’s own face powders in the Metéorites range and the accompanying limited edition scent. Indeed there is here the feel of an expensive makeup product along with a slightly metallic accord that rings melodiously throughout without ever being shrill. Examining the rose accord closer, I realize that it has none of the wine dregs or liqueur odor of many modern roses, such as Rose Barbare in the same line, or Stella Rose Absolute, which form the pillar of modern abstract roses in today’s perfumery.
In Cruel Gardénia this rose combination with orris is rendered powdery but not old-fashioned. It’s a beautiful white rose seen through a gossamer thin veil of fabric, its shape hazy although recognisable with a soapy latheriness that is very pleasant. There is none of the familiar dirtiness of ripe, aged cheese in the central stage, as there is no discernible gardenia in the way one is conditioned to expect it. The drydown of Cruel Gardénia has a mellow whisper of sandalwood and amber which garlands the innocent white musks lingering seductively for a long time and intensifying as time passes, reminiscent of other fragrances in the L’Art et la Matière line.

The overall intention was to render a skin veil (the "muscinade", a new Guerlain signature), a velvety soft aura that would put attention to the wearer instead of the fragrance’s profile itself. In that regard it is a departure from the classic French tradition of Guerlain and a wink to the American ideal of sensually “clean”, abstract musky florals such as Glow by J.Lopez, or contemporary clean “chypres” such as S.J Parker Lovely or Narciso Rodriguez for Her. This it does with conviction, pedigree and the air of cultured defiance to what is expected.
Cruel Gardénia is truly gorgeous, sensually feminine and ultimately a perfume that despite its lack of realistic depiction of a note or angular complexity will earn its wearer compliments on how sublime they naturally smell instead of how interestingly their perfume projects. A perfume to choose to seduce first and foremost one’s self. To quote Colette:

“a well-chosen perfume, linked to your moral person, to your physical charms, a perfume your friends love and recognize, one that surprises people you meet for the first time and that makes them dream”.

And for our readers, a small draw: a sample of Cruel Gardenia. Leave your name in the comments if you want to participate.

Notes: rose damascena, peach, neroli, ylang ylang, violet, sandalwood, vanilla, tonka bean, white musks

$220 for 80 ml bottle with detachable atomiser, available in Guerlain boutique in Paris, Bergdorf Goodman in New York, and Neiman Marcus in San Francisco.
Adding: One of our readers, Kim, mentions that the Toronto boutique in Canada also carries the line.

For another take on the perfumery standpoint of it, check out Octavian's entry on 1000fragrances.

Painting Desire by Pino, courtesy of progressiveart.com