Comme des Garçons Zagorsk (Incense Series): fragrance review

Zagorsk by Comme des Garçons is among the less mentioned specimens in the Japanese-centrifuge brand's collection of fragrances inspired by various incenses used as burning materials around ther world. Comme des Garçons was among the first to explore the idea that people have cultural associations with burned materials. "Incense," after all, comes from the Latin verb meaning "to burn." They launched not one but five scents in their iconic Incense Series, each geographically codified to appeal to a specific sensibility and religious context. 

                               Gordana Ristic, pic borrowed from Pinterest

In the case of frankincense, which happens to be the main material of ecclesiastical incense -the kind that is burned in censers in Christian Orthodox and Catholic churches- the association with church is a given, even for the non-pious. The emanations from the church escape into the air, and the congregation has fumigated their clothes during service just enough, so that a subtle trail can be caught by a sensitive nose outside afterwards. 

 Zagorsk, composed by Evelyn Boulanger, is fittingly dedicated to the Eastern orthodox churches. I picture them on Eastern European soil as a solace from the cold, but also bearing the birch (leathery, tarry) and fir atmosphere of the outside, the coniferous tonalities that befit countries of vast forests. Plus I detect a clean clove note, embracing the cold, which is inextricably tied to my mind with Russia and Eastern Europe; those Soviet carnation scents must have been at the root of that. It's perfect for winter weather and it is alongside Vert d' Encens by Tom Ford, lamentably discontinued, a green incense that defies that cliche of heavy and cloying incenses that are so full of balsams that they cease to smell of frankincense and turn like orientalized soups of lead-ladden notes. Worth seeking out for a long-drawn sniff. 

Diptyque Opopanax: fragrance (for home & beyond) review

The practice of wearing room fragrance as personal scent isn't totally revolutionary on my part (everyone raves, me included, about incense-y Essence of John Galliano by -recently controversial- designer Galliano) but Opopanax by Diptyque is my very own personal "discovery" down that path of delightful addiction that plagues at least some of the aficionados of scent. Basically a room spray (with its fine fragrance counterpart being Eau Lente by the same brand, which I also like a lot), Opopanax is more complex and nuanced than its simplistic name would suggest; which is exactly what prompted me to experiment with it in the first place.


Opopanax (also spelled "opoponax") is a secretion from the stems of the plant Opopanax chironium, or "sweet myrrh", which is then dried out in the sun. Coming from a sunny climate where the yellow flowers of this "noblest ofincense gums", to quote king Solomon himself, are a common enough sight, I have somewhat of an affinity with this sweet smelling essence. It might also have to do with the delightful etymology: ὀποπάναξ comes from the Greek words ὀπός and πανάκεια, literally "total healing through plant essence".

In Diptyque's Opopanax apart from the fluffy, powdery woody, exotically sensuous and all around cozy haze of the eponymous Middle-Eastern resin I can detect shades of orange blossom, orange confit cake, balsamic vanilla and even Eastern Bread, the confit qualities and the mahlep spice being facets of the resin itself. And yet it also has a certain freshness about it: Not exactly the lemon-facets of frankincence which peter out to smokiness cooling the air as they leave, but nonetheless it does not smell opressing at all. Its voluptuous unfolding on air, linen, skin or clothes is like an arc of graceful awakening: you feel it making your nostrils quiver and then settle into a prolonged inhalation and another prolonged exhalation of utter pleasure. The dark, powdery backdrop of Opopanax is reminiscent of how vintage Shalimar used to dry down, the powder never too sweet, the leathery quinolines never too harsh, all coppery clouds setting on some eastern temple scenery when nary the tremble of a leaf would cut the awed silence of the moment.

Among room fragrances which can be borrowed for fine fragrance needs (the opposite is also valid practice, as some in the Guerlain Aqua Allegoria line have proved in my experience), Diptyque's Opopanax is truly stellar, achingly gorgeous, right up there with the very best and lovers of Misuki, Or des Indes, Bal a Versailles and indeed Shalimar are urged to check it out.

Diptyque Opopanax comes in a room spray of 200ml and a 6.5oz candle. Obviously the room spray is easier to manipulate towards perfuming what strikes your fancy, but the candle is also terrific.
Available on the Diptyque site.(and on their UK page)


photo of candles in Orthodox church via wooz.gr

Fragrance review: Avicenna by Annette Neuffer

Annette Neuffer is a multi-talented lady you have not come across associated with fragrance yet. But you sure will. Not only is she an accomplished jazz musician with a quintet after her own name, performing all around the world, she has also stepped into the perilous world of perfumery using all natural essences to render her wild imaginings palpable and tangible for us.
Her generosity in sending me her labour of love was astounding and I am honoured to have been at the receiving end. To tell you the truth, I begin all those samplings with no expectations at all (since I don’t want to be prejudiced one way or another), but usually they prove very pleasant and sometimes even gripping to my surprise.

Annette’s most accomplished foray into the art of composing perfume so far is Avicenna, a sumptuous oriental of a deep ambery golden colour like a monastic liqueur. A complex and dark mix of several expensive rose essences of various origin (Bulgarian, Turkish, Russian, Moroccan), jasmine, broom, pepper, honey, sandalwood, amber, vanilla and musks.
The name alone enticed me as soon as I heard about it: Avicenna or more accurately Abu Ali al-Husain ibn Abdallah ibn Sina (born in Isfahan, the legendary city in 980AD), was the famous researcher, scientist and philosopher of Islam who was responsible for cracking the secret of rose distillation in the 10th century. Islam is a culture stepped deep into the cult of the rose. For them rose is the essence of beauty, holiness and spirituality. It appears in many facets of everyday life and plays an important part in religious ceremonies. The thick plush petals that resemble velvet hold a fascination for the denizens of the anhydrous regions of the Middle East and its heavy narcotic feel lulls the mind into a reverie.
Annette Neuffer was inspired by these historical details and strove to create something with an ancient feel to it, something that would lend some small magical touch in our everyday preparation to face the perilous world out there, a fragrant talisman for our protection.

The spicy cascade Avicenna opens with takes you by the throat and forces you to pay attention as caustic pepper singes and swirls around floral essences, perhaps a tad too stringently. Ginger and cardamom are also apprarent, while cinnamon does not make a too noticeable appearence, certainly not what you're accustomed to from its ubiquitous use in pot-pourri. The garland of rose unfolds on the skin majestically, like a thousand petals crushed underfoot in a medieval palace in Tehran. Myriads of nuances of rose take on mellow hues lent by smooth saffron and the bracken and honey feel of broom as the progression of the maturing of the precious and quite potent essence is continuing. It is very apparent that those sensations have their feet firmly in the sensual world of the material world of Nature rather than the white-coat lab of an urban conglomerate technician. There is no sharp note or that high pitched aluminium and glass feel of modern perfumes that one can smell at a department store. It’s cobbled alleys and dirt instead.
The underlying mustiness has reminded me of the famous Caron accord that is so evident in most of the venerable firm’s offerings. Their Poivre, Parfum Sacre and Rose parfums all contribute elements that can be traced later on in Avicenna.
As I inhale deeply I am transported to Top Kapi, the Constantinople palace where draperies of heavy damask hide Byzantine secrets and languorous kohl-eyed sultanas take a break from their more carnal occupations to revel in the romanticized florancy of rose and the piercing sweetness of natural jasmine in the lazy hours of a never ending afternoon.
Aromatic resins such as erotic labdanum and mellow benzoin anchor the composition with restraint so that it never becomes too sweet, as one might fear judging by the notes; although they do lend tremendous fixation and staying power to it. The final phase recalls the deep and dull colour of large amber beads threaded together in a komboloi (playing beads), one ticking the other incessantly, as time elapses lazily until all aromas on skin very, very slowly exit with a sigh.

The official notes are as follows:

Head

Black Pepper, Cinnamon Bark, Cardamom, Ginger, Macis, Mandarin, Bergamot, Tunisian Neroli

Heart
Saffron Absolute, Tunisian Orange Blossom absolute, Turkish and Bulgarian Rose Otto and absolute, Moroccan Rose Absolute, Russian Rose Absolute, Jasminum Grandiflorum Egypt, Acacia Farnesiana, Indian Tuberose, Broom Absolute

Base
Beeswax Absolute Supιrieur, Oppoponax, Elemi, Labdanum, Benzoin, Vanilla Absolute, Mysore Sandalwood, Copaiva Balsam, Hibiscus Abelmoschus


Annette Neuffer might not be as experienced as some other established perfumers, but her passion and interest in the world of natural essences is at least engaging and worth exploring for yourself.
I highly recommend you visit her Perfume Page here, where you can get info, request samples and possibly order.
You can also contact her directly at: info@naturparfum.net



Pic is of Blue Mosque in Constantinople/Istanbul courtesy of pbase.com