Showing posts with label samsara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label samsara. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Samsara by Guerlain: fragrance review and history

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

sam•sa•ra
Pronunciation: \səm-‘sär-ə\
Function: noun
Etymology: Sanskrit saṁsāra, literally, passing through
Date: 1886
: the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma

—Merriam-Webster On-Line Dictionary Definition.

Years later I’m still surprised by the paradoxical creature known as the original Guerlain Samsara marketing campaign (1989). Although the fragrance itself has now recognized as one of the diffusive bombshells of the 80s (partly contributed by women who unabashedly applied reapplied ad nauseum back then), the concept was infused with a subtle ironic tone which few had recognized to this day—tongues firmly planted in cheek from day one. In fact, the overall concept can be interpreted in so many different ways that, combined with the subsequent urban legends, I have no choice but hail the whole thing as a marvel. After all, how can a seemingly innocent tale of oriental incarnation points(slyly) to the truth about the eventual corporate fall of venerable perfumery house, in ways that I suspect few still fully comprehend?

Few may dismiss my claims until one realizes that the development process of Guerlain Samsara was a grand departure from its predecessors, for it was the first project which utilized fragrance marketing. (Yes, I understand how vulgar the “m” word may be to some Perfume Shrine readers—but read on.) Before Guerlain Samsara the fragrance formulation was the exact opposite: juice first, concept second. In fact, the developmental processes of classics such as Jicky, Mitsouko, Shalimar were not fully indebted to their romantic muses, be it personal anecdote (the British Jacqueline who couldn’t marry Aimé Guerlain), heroine of a novel by Claude Farrère (homage to the heroine of "La Bataille"), or the Mughal architecture wonder in Lahore, Pakistan (a.k.a. “the abode of love” in Sanskrit). No, the business model in the pre-Samsara era was akin to home-style pasta cooking: if it was any good the fragrance would stick.

However such a R&D method was not a mean of effective business management in the post-Opium era, especially since other designer fragrances such as Givenchy Ysatis (1984), Chanel Coco (1984), and Calvin Klein Obsession (1985) were dominating various markets while Guerlain Nahéma (1979) and Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle (1983) flopped, especially in the North American market[1]. With this in mind Guerlain did two unusual things when developing the next massive launch: requested submissions from the Big Boys and initiated a project with a fragrance brief. Eventually the name Samsara was officially chosen as the name of the fragrance.

By now most people probably have seen the following PR write up: "Jean-Paul Guerlain was so moved by a woman whose inner beauty evoked a serene sensuality, he created a perfume just for her - Samsara. A fragrance that embraces and intoxicates, it is a seductive oriental made for a woman who conveys harmony and spirituality. Jasmine combines with the warmth of sandalwood, while powdery and vanilla notes magnify this blend".
The statement above is almost a direct contradiction to the official definition of the Buddhist term! In fact, when Samsara was launched in Asia it received its share of puzzled looks: in my memory serves me well one of the spiritual writers from the Mandarin-speaking regions (林清玄) actually published articles about how the newest fragrance illustrated the lure of the material world and the emptiness it implies. (I read that article once back in 1990 so please do not quote me—still, I remember the author’s view on Samsara was less than stellar because of its supposed connection to the “harmonious reincarnation”.) To be fair Guerlain did not do itself any favour when it announced (upon its Asian launch at least) that the perfumer (supposedly Jean-Paul Guerlain), was “enlightened” after praying for hours in a remote temple…So why the whole fuss? If Guerlain wanted to appease its Asian market wouldn’t it be easier to call the scent Nirvana? (Remember, the grunge band didn’t its first album until 1988.) Well, the questions ultimately point to the basis of Buddhism: while explaining the paradigm of Buddhism is beyond the scope of this review I shall offer a part of my understanding since it ultimately points to an interesting truth.

One of the major issues that many religions need to address is the sufferings experienced by mankind: how can one elevate from the everyday spiritual sufferings? Legends have it that Buddhism originated when Prince Siddhārtha Gautama, upon meeting his subject for the first time, discovered earthly pains associated with aging, disease, and corpses. Since he father forbid the prince to study all spiritual matters the young man later set out to uncover the root
of the problem. (It was prophesized upon Gautama’s birth that the prince would become either a great king or a great spiritual leader: naturally the king forbid his son to study spirituality.) Of course, Siddhārtha Gautama later gained enlightenment and became Buddha.

What Gautama supposedly envisioned during his meditation right before the enlightenment is worth repeating. Under a Bodhi tree, Gautama witnessed the human cycles and the consequences as a result: a perpetual motion of greed, jealousy, hatred, all of which are caused by ignorance. In fact, finding to starting point of such suffering is futile, much akin to finding the starting point of a circle. The cycle of such troubling human experience, of course, is samsara.

At this point you might be wondering how the first photo featured in this post fit into the grand scheme of things—it is, in fact, a samsara wheel, complete with all the states associated with the phenomenon. Of course, samsara is not merely reincarnation or karma: from my understanding the pains of repeating oneself due to karmic bonds and/or debts that allows the samsara cycle to continue...(for more information on the stages within a samsara wheel, as well as the meaning behind various depictions within the thangka above, please refer to the excellent interactive guide here.) Well, does the projected image much more akin to nirvana? Not exactly—in fact I think nirvana will be a fairly poor choice upon examining the official definition by Merriam-Webster:

nir•va•na
Pronunciation: \nir-‘vä-nə, (,)nər-\
Function: noun
Usage: often capitalized
Etymology: Sanskrit nirvāṇa, literally, act of extinguishing, from nis- out + vāti it blows — more at wind
Date: 1801

1: the final beatitude that transcends suffering, karma, and samsara and is sought especially in Buddhism through the extinction of desire and individual consciousness
2 a: a place or state of oblivion to care, pain, or external reality

The real essence of nirvana isn’t the equivalent of an oriental heaven, full of exotic pleasures. (Such earthly thoughts create more earthly delights until the karmic force runs out, remember?) Instead, nirvana is the cease and the decease of earthly desires, thereby wiping out samasara. All of which makes nirvana, by definition, an indescribable state—since nirvana is beyond the use of the five senses or even the duality-driven state of the human experience. Yet, Buddhism advocates that such surrender is merely a choice to go beyond the transient entertainment of the human experience and realize that the greater truth is the integration of everything in life—thus can only be experienced, not said in words since describing the state requires choosing one’s words, thereby separating some experiences from others [2]. In the end, I suppose Guerlain can’t pick a name that implies the cease and the decease of the consciousness!

Aside from the incoherence of between the projected image and the name the olfactory theme of Guerlain Samsara couldn’t have been more appropriate. Jasmine and sandalwood, aside from producing a sensual oriental alliance when expertly combined, actually capture the imagination of many Asian countries despite the cultural differences within the regions. While Helg has kindly explored the use of jasmine in perfumery in ways that I can never imagine in her excellent jasmine series, it’s worth noting that to many Asians the flower serves as spiritual shorthand of the various cultures within this region—there’s more to jasmine than, for instance, the vital ingredient in the classic jasmine tea. For instance, the iconic Mandarin folksong “Muo Li Hua” (茉莉花), taught in Chinese elementary schools as soon as the second grade, becomes the symbol of Asian aesthetics. (It is even used by Puccini as a theme in Turandot, most prominently in the middle of Perché tarda la luna? in Act I. More recently the famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou had used it liberally when directing various events related to the Beijing Olympics.) I’ve heard of many versions of this melody and to demonstrate the phenomenon I have a YouTube concert highlight featuring the Vienna Boys Choir (the pronunciation and intonation are quite spot on, by the way). I think all this indicates how the jasmine has become to represent oriental aesthetics.



Jean-Paul Guerlain’s source of inspiration might turn out to be different from a Buddhist temple after hours of meditation. Michael Edwards reported in Perfume Legends: French Feminine Fragrances that Jean-Paul was set out to seduce Decia de Powell, an English woman who shared his passion for equestrianism. Upon being asked what fragrance would she like to wear, Decia supposedly asked for a concoction of jasmine and sandalwood as far back as 1985—and the final result supposedly contained up to 30% of sandalwood extract, one of the precious perfumery ingredients due to the diminishing population of the sandalwood tree and its slow-growing nature. (Jean-Paul also added, among many other things, Sandalore in order to create a powerful sandalwood effect.)
But the perfumery industry can readily reveal contradictory stories and this is where Samsara’s story starts to take on a colourful spin: did Guerlain ultimately picked Jean-Paul’s submission for Samsara?

While nearly all official Guerlain PR material back up the master perfumer fully for years the perfumery industry members whisper among themselves that Guerlain Samsara might have been the first Guerlain fragrance created by an outsider. (Quel horreur! C'est absolument incroyable!) The story is even more bizarre when CNN reported nearly three years ago that nose Jacques Chabert was the nose behind Guerlain’s Samsara (and Chanel's Cristalle)…, further adding confusion and complexity to the urban myth…

Of course, Guerlain isn’t completely innocent in this regard: when Mathilde Laurent joined Cartier a few years ago the creator Shalimar Eau Légère (2003) strangely became Jean-Paul Guerlain after the master perfumer supposedly “optimized” the fragrance with citrus oils such as bergamot according to the Guerlain PR team. (How can the original be short of hesperidic top notes is still beyond me.) Champs- Élysées (1996) might have received a similar treatment since the olfactory strokes [3] are a bit different compared to the classic Jean-Paul Guerlain creations. (My guess would be Dominique Ropion after sampling Une Fleur de Cassie by Frédéric Malle, though the depth of the latter is unquestionably better honed.) Mostly interestingly, many Guerlain sales associates are still taught that L’Instant de Guerlain (2003) was created by a Guerlain family member despite the fact that Maurice Roucel was officially credited as the nose behind the project—the training documents supposedly indicated otherwise in some cases...
Sure, many people have attributed Guerlain’s recent perfumery downfall from grace to the corporate greed of LVMH—but I feel that there must have been something wrong in the first place that caused the family to sell the corporation to the conglomerate. After all, as opposed to the Givenchy takeover (hostile in nature by all accounts) LVMH bought the brand upon years of mismanagement. I don’t believe for a second that it was simply a case that someone spending too much on guaranteeing the supply of costly essences, not after knowing the factors behind the failure of Nahéma, for instance. Management problems existed before the LVMH takeover—it wasn’t simply a matter of under finance that plagued many French luxury firms.

Years ago I read a short paragraph that ended up saying more to this day than many sources could articulate. Cathy Newman, a reporter for the National Geographic and the author of "Perfume: The Art and Science of Scent", once interviewed a noted industry member. While the man didn’t go into the specifics he indicated that the Guerlain family was a group of “octogenarians” who constantly “squabbled” over money and other matters. The traditional Guerlain management structure used to dictate the separation to duties among siblings and/or cousins, which potentially created strains even during fragrance formulation (as Jean-Paul Guerlain said during some interviews) as the cost of material may exceed the limits imposed by the other departments…
Please don’t get me wrong: I’m not indicating that the Guerlain legacy less than it should have been—but to say that the family dynamic was a smooth sail and placed the LVMH acquisition squarely to the lure of the global corporation was not exactly correct either. Guerlain got sold not because the audience didn’t get the fragrance masterpieces—Guerlain got sold because the namesake family couldn’t identify the effective management strategies. (Interestingly enough, LVMH is still looking for ways to properly manage the Guerlain portfolio, as many perfumistas will sadly tell you. I suppose history does repeat itself.)

So the fragrance that was released 100 years after the launch of Jicky said so much more with its name than it should when the Sanskrit word originally described the sadness associated with karmic bonds: suppose Samsara also indicated all the emotions that the Guerlain (corporate entity) must have gone though over the centuries?

Fragrance-wise Samsara is arguably beyond just a simple combination of jasmine and sandalwood. Dr. Luca Turin once commented how the classic Guerlain compositions used quite a bit of Provençal herbs such as thyme and rosemary: Samsara subtly opens with lemon and tarragon, although the jasmine-sandalwood alliance can be strongly felt from the get go—making the bouquet largely powdery with a 80s lilt. (Peach is also mentioned as a top note in some sources, although to me it isn’t a prominent player—at least not in the famed Mitsouko context.) As the scent progresses ylang ylang further supports the jasmine idea with a spicy touch, concurred by carnation and rose. The overall aesthetic is round and smooth—as if invisible hands are arching the elements into concentric spirals, leaving an interesting sillage—sophisticated but strong-willed before the fragrance settles into the typical Guerlain balsamic-amber base with the aforementioned sandalwood as the main lead.

(I hate to say this…but I wonder more than once if Catherine Deneuve used Samsara during the filming of Indochine, for the complex love story can certainly be described as heavily karmic in nature![4] )


As for the famed packaging Michael Edwards reported that the pagoda-shaped bottle was in fact inspired by a Cambodian dancer statue displayed at Musée Guimet: the legs forms the outer shape of the bottle as the head forms the stopper…(no prize for guessing why red and gold are chosen as the colours).

Helg talked about how Guerlain’s model profiling in its ads and her theory certainly bears some interesting truth when considering the following ad:




So I urge everyone to re-examine this creation more than a blast from the past—the stories behind the creation itself are more than what one can bargain for!

Notes for Samsara by Guerlain: jasmine, ylang ylang, narcissus, sandalwood, iris, tonka bean, vanilla

Samsara is available wherever Guerlain perfumes are stocked. Two " discontinued "flankers that bear no olfactory relation are Un air de Samsara and Samsara Shine.

[1] Although the concept would be considered very foreign to the non-French speakers, Guerlain’s problem with the North American market might also have to do with its refusal to deliver extra sales incentives, a practice that was commonplace in North America. In short, I don’t believe it’s simply the diffusive juice that ultimately caused the failure of a juice: after all, as we all know a terrible juice can be quite profitable if managed properly (much to the horror of perfumistas).
[2] I’m not a Buddhist and an even lousier student in religious matters: my little write-up on Buddhist terms only serves as an illustration to the terms associated with this fragrance.
[3]Similar to writers and painters perfumers (especially the established ones) do have their olfactory styles, mostly due to their preferred ingredients and aesthetics. People who are highly trained can even conduct personality tests based on the olfactory signatures. According to Sophia Gorjsman the perfumers actually recognize each other’s olfactory signatures upon smelling a fragrance.
[4]The Tale of Genji, the world’s oldest novel by Murasaki Shikibu, certainly attribute the protagonist’s often futile (and nearly incestuous in some cases) relationships with various female leads as deeply karmic.

Pics via Wikimedia and Fragrances of the World.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Jasmine series: part 3 ~ rich jasmine suggestions



After examining the properties and usage of jasmine in perfumery it was about time to concentrate on specific perfumes that feature it in its multiple capacities. To this end, it was decided that a triplet of divisions would be opted for: rich essences with depth and oomph, mellow compositions that stand on the golden medium between extremes and fresh nuances that are welcome even on the hottest of days and would never overwhelm. Today we are focusing on the first category.

The crown jewel is of course A la nuit by Serge Lutens. However it has been adequately elaborated on at Perfume Shrine not to require further description.

On the same rich and abundant jasmine kick, L'artisan Parfumeur makes the surprise and offers us a heady bouquet in La Haie Fleuri de Hameau. It is big, opulent, operatic and orgasmic even, full of the concentrated essence of jasmine, much like A la nuit is. Created as a haunting interpretation of Marie Antoinette's garden of white flowers at Versailles by Jean La Porte, founder of L'artisan house and subsequently creator of the Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier line, it is reminiscent of A la nuit's opulence minus the heavy indolic rot.
However La haie fleuri is encompassing other floral notes as well, such as pronounced hyacinth in the drydown as well as lily of the valley and honeysuckle at the opening with a smidgeon of tuberose (subdued) that account for a multi-floral impression that like an impressionistic painting stuns you with its brutal exploitation of the light and its effects on objects. The different nuances with a little green and a little soap interjected peek through at intervals and make their presence known all the while under the baguette of the efficient maestro that jasmine undoubtedly is. Very potent and surprisingly extremely lasting (and I am saying this for those who complain on L'artisan's offerings' lasting power), it is to be used with restraint.
Although created some time ago, it still is available at the Boutique L'artisan and at select places where the brand is available in the big 100ml bottle only. Check here for prices and availability.

Jardin Blanc by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier was the next logical step in our itinerary through rich hedonistic jasmines, and not only for reasons of symmetry after La Haie Fleuri. The inclusion of tuberose shifts this one in the fecal, animalic direction when the opening slaps you across the face with its audacity and insolence, with what smells to my nose as sweet heady honeysuckle and with a nod to Fracas with its rubbery heart.
The official notes are, according to Aedes:
Top: Mandarin, myrtle, leafy green; Middle: Ylang-ylang, clove, jasmine; Base: Sandalwood, tolu, vetiver.
It doesn't come off as green or leafy, although there is the weird "freshness" that white florals sometimes possess at the initial stage, as if you have cut the stems from the vine just now, yet it is deeply earthy, sweet and potent, drying down softer, soapier and more muted which accounts for higher wearability than initially expected.


The Different Company under the direction of Jean Claude Ellena's daughter, Celine Ellena, came out with Jasmin de Nuit, an offering that could not leave Perfume Shrine and its love of all things jasmine uninterested. The official notes include bergamot, black currant, egyptian jasmine, star anise, cinnamon, cardamom, sandalwood, musk and amber. According to the house, it has unusually high concentrations of Egyptian jasmine absolute, which is a variety that supposedly has a fruitier undertone than others more commonly used.
My personal impression is that it is more spicy than intensly floral on the whole and as such it cannot but be a very intriguing addition to the sampling package of any discerning perfume afficionado in the search for jasmine perfumes. In fact many spice lovers would find the cardamom opening delectable (which is a favourite spice for the Ellena family, if I go by Jean Claude's magnificent pilgrimage to it in Declaration by Cartier). It then mellows and leaves the jasmine notes to marry with ambery undertones that linger seductively and warmly on the skin for a long time, much more than other creations of The Different Company if you're familiar with the line.

In our perusal of rich jasmine fragrances, Creed with its Jasmine Emperatrice Eugenie, a fragrance created for a real historical figure, is next on our list. Based on an original formula of the 19th century for the wife of Napoleon III, it is a triumph for the house of Creed. With its rich, suave sandalwood base and its effluvium of jasmine it is at once feminine and emancipated enough to command attention. The lightly vanillic base accounts for augmenting the warmth and cuddliness of the scent. Its character lies somewhere between Bois des Iles by Chanel, Samsara by Guerlain and Organza by Givenchy, accounting for a woody floral that is elegant yet potent at the same time.

Samsara by Guerlain is another stonking beat of jasmine with the rich support of sandalwood, amplified to the max. If your olfactory nerve does not numb with the potent smell I don't know what will produce such an effect. Still, it is a modern classic that merits testing. For a lovely detailed review of it, you can browse Ayala's review here

And for the grand finale, Jasmin Full by Montale is a lethal Venus flytrap that is certainly going to entangle you into a deathly grip. Very strong, yet not indolic or animalic the way A la nuit is, it lasts extremely well and lets its other floral notes like orange blossom peek a boo for the merest whiff. It has been commented to smell a little like ammonia, which could be attributed to the nature of jasmine molecular structure and emition as discussed before, still I do not perceive it as unpleasant, which is something I cannot say for some of the oudhs on the Montale line which compete for foulest sniff on my personal fragrance path. A must try for serious jasmine fans.


Next post will focus on mellow, balanced jasmine renditions.



Artwork Flaming June by Frederick Leighton courtesy of artcom.

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