Showing posts with label wormwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wormwood. Show all posts

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Niki de Saint Phalle: fragrance review and musings on memory

My experience with Niki de Saint Phalle goes back many years ago. I was aware of Niki being a force to be reckoned with artistically of course even before meeting her scent; her impressive snake-shaped creations in hues of vivid emerald and lapis blue were like a prelapsarian vision of Heaven. I will never forget the time when I saw a real size serpent of hers in the library of one of the university facilities in Cordoba, Spain. I doubt the serpent sculpture is still there, yet the impression has stuck with a mental recall vividness which is truly arresting.
via

Niki de Saint Phalle's eponymous scent, Niki de Saint Phalle eau de toilette, is much the same arresting affair both in looks (the cobalt blue oval with the intertwining snakes) and in smell.

It feels like one steps into an immense pine forest in a day of frost, when the needles hang with snow on them. The snow feels like dry powder and soap, very starched and proper, like some aldehydic fragrances of the 1970s, but with that green bitter touch of wormwood-mossy quality and a dose of carnation, which makes it more mysterious than just a bon chic bon genre aldehydic floral.

In what concerns hardcore chypres Niki de Saint Phalle is an odd man (woman) out. It's artsy yet not too hard to wear, with a playful twist that recalls violet candy, less herbal or animalic than most chypres, a hint of leather, some temptation, some tongue-in-cheek. It's a bit like stepping into a university library only to be greeted by a giant snake sculpture that looms above your head in insatiable hunger.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: 
The Chypre Series: history, culture and aesthetics
Chypre Fragrances Explained for Newbies

Friday, April 11, 2008

Break This Bittersweet Spell on Me ~Douce Amere by Lutens: fragrance review

Douce Amère's sonorous name, meaning "bittersweet" in French, brings back memories of childhood with a Prustian rush: the precarious balance of bitter and sweet like a poisonous plant, like bitter sightshade; the smell of danger and dare of a bitters sip coupled with the comfort of a vanillic dessert consumed long after playing truant and getting grounded for it. Or even the strange macaroon-style cookies my mother baked comprising of coconut, dusting sugar and strong ouzo: a recipe concocted in hell, I'm sure, but tasting like a fresh slice of heaven. Bitter food and drink have the perverse tendency to make you yearn for them several years later and this is no exception.

Yet Douce Amère remains one of the most underappreciated fragrances in the Lutens oeuvre for some reason, even though it came out in 2000; 8 years ago, enough time to make its mark and lure in accolytes.

Jean Poiret, a French actor and playwright who wrote and starred in the original 1973 Paris production of La Cage aux folles, is the author of Douce Amère , a comedy written in 1970.
However upon looking around a bit, I also found another synonymous theatrical happening:
"[...]Madame Douce-Amere (Mrs. Bitter-Sweet) is a female Marcel Marceau, whose curious antics and invisible dog take her beyond the walls of her home and into the laps of the audience. Madame invites you to help yourself to her hot chocolate and cookies and then sit back to watch the fun".
~through Theatrehorizon.org

I am not sure if Serge Lutens was inspired by either (or even by the Solanum Dulcamara "nightshade" plant) nudging "nose" Chris Sheldrake into embottling the satyrical and funny along with the poignant. But it would have been interesting to contemplate that he would. His fragrances often evoke heavy costumed dramas to me, with secondary actors in the wings, getting a quick turn on the stage for some precious moments before they disappear like in a Euripedean episode.

Cinnamon fondles the herbal constituents of Douce Amere into submission while the naughtier peppermint-like accents along with what seems like citrusy oils raise their naughty head from time to time in wistful yet tantalizing temptation. The medicinal opening of aromatic wormwood -the plant that gives absinthe drink its green pungency- belies the hedonistic, Epicurian progression into a velvety gourmand meant for gustatory appraisal. Soft, woody accords finish it off in a kiss of sweet departure.

In a way, Keiko Mecheri's Paname is a poor man's substitute for Douce Amère (and the line has been criticized for drawing heavily on the Lutens line for inspiration). They have a very similar start, but ultimately the Lutens fragrance remains more compelling. Paname has a sharper, more astringent tone with heavier sweetness in the coda, unlike the infinite tenderness of the Lutens's base.
The liquorice feel of Douce Amère also recalls a grown up, tipsy Lolita Lempicka after a round of absinthe cocktails; while its sweetness is vaguely reminiscent of the pudding notes of Casmir by Chopard, although much more airier, less clotted.
Unlike many in the Lutens canon, Douce Amère never veers into the amber highway to the orientalised Silk Road and remains an enigma, perched like a Prodikean Hercules on the brink of two roads. Or one party of unrequited love with equal parts happiness and despair.



Notes (provided by Serge Lutens.blogspot): artemisia absinthium, anise, cinnamon, marigold, foamflower*, jasmine, lily, tagetes, vanilla, musk, cedar.

*Foamflower is scientifically called Tiarella cordifolia or Tiarella trifoliata (two separate species within the same genus).


Douce Amère comes in a 50ml/1.7oz bottle of Eau de Parfum and is available through Aedes, Luckyscent, the Perfume Shoppe, Escentual.co.uk and select department stores around the world.




The title of the post comes from the song "Bittersweet" on the clip above.

Clip: Apocalyptica featuring Ville Vallo (from HIM) and Lauri Ylönen (from The Rasmus) "Bittersweet" , originally uploaded by xxtasteofinkxx on Youtube.
Pic Scent of Green by Bolandrotor/Flickr.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Absinthe Series 3: fragrances of intoxication

In our investigation of how absinthe has inspired artists, writers, as well as filmmakers, we must return to the art of perfumery with its vast ability to evoke reminiscences. Many fragrances have drawn upon la fée verte in recent years and its herbal constituents: wormwood or artemisia and aniseed, as well as its perceived aromas like liquorice and angelica.
Perfume Shrine has tried to organise the chaos and provide a list of scents with the corresponding notes.

Scents with Wormwood/Artemisia:

*Absinthe by Grandiflorum Fragrances: Largely redolent of offbeat anise, with orangey-boozy and woody notes accented with vanilla later on to soothe and appease, it's as if you're reading Poe by a woodfire cuddled up with a loved on to chase away the nightmares afterwards. Certainly not the most authentic absinthe fragrance around, but very wearable.

*Absolument Absinthe by Parfums d'Interdit: Absolument Absinthe has not one but two ingredients with mysterious and whispered about reputations. Cannabis is the second...Together with inky black tea, tangy bergamot, and the bracing note of Iranian galbanum, various white florals and spices such as nutmeg and cardamom, it deepens on sandalwood and musks sustaining its soft message on the skin for a long time. It's claimed that it conforms according to individual personal chemistry, but since I haven't found a willing speciment to try this theory out I can't proclaim its truth or fallacy. Tripy, if only because you want it to.

Here is Pascal Rolland courtesy of dabbler.ca talking about it:



*Absinthe by BPAL (Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab) : In this cult brand's inventory every little dark and gothic tale finds its narrator through the acocmpanying "imp" (short for sample in BPAL lingo). With such great names as Thanatopsis (the look of death in Greek), Golden Priapus, Enraged Urangutang Musk (!), The Pit and the Pendulum, Nosferatu or Saturnalia (after the Roman celebration) and the corresponding Bacchanalia, they have created a very weird and compelling niche; no less accountable for which is their site with a very active forum.
Absinthe is intensely liquorice-like, with a metallic minty top and a soapy drydown that fades fast. Notes: wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon.

*Absinth by Nasomatto : like I had said when the line launched, this is a wonderful fragrance full of bittersweet notes of herbs, earthy pungent vetiver, possibly angelica or wormwood and some sweet element of vanillic florancy in there that accounts for the most delectable semi-gourmand effect possible. If this is how a modern aromatic gourmand should be made, then I'm all for it.

*Azurée by Estée Lauder : With its rather masculine edge despite its feminine gardenia aspirations, submerged into deceptive aldehydes or cyclamen and jasmine aromas, it opens on dark, musty oakmoss that grabs you and makes you pay attention. In a way though its leatheriness does not possess the striking green slap-across-the-cheek of Bandit or the smooth caress of a gloved hand that is Diorling; resulting in diminished revenue in today’s currency.

*Black Fig and Absinthe by Slatkin (nose Christophe Laudamier) : The treatment of figs is dark, gloomy and surupy like dried fruits smoked over for preservation during the winter months and surely an anomaly amidst usually green fig scents. Quite loud in its fruitiness but underscored by elegant, cool incense and dark wormwood to compliment the intese liquorice effect that first surfaced in Lolita Lempicka. Never too sweet and incidentally Harry Slatkin's preference from the whole line.

*Absinthe by Ava Luxe (nose Serena Ava Franco): a viciously green liquid that might stain your clothes, smelling remarkably close to the alcoholic spirit with a deep, dry anise drydown.

*Absinth by Nasomatto : like I had said when the line launched, this is a wonderful fragrance full of bittersweet notes of herbs, earthy pungent vetiver, possibly angelica or wormwood and some sweet element of vanillic florancy in there that accounts for the most delectable semi-gourmand effect possible. If this is how a modern aromatic gourmand should be made, then I'm all for it.

*Aromatics Elixir by Clinique (nose Bernand Chant): a mossy intense rosy composition that has a bitter beginning redolent of the wormwood plant. I dearly love to basque in its sillage when smelling it on passerbys.

*Azurée by Estée Lauder : With its rather masculine edge despite its feminine gardenia aspirations, submerged into deceptive aldehydes or cyclamen and jasmine aromas, it opens on dark, musty oakmoss that grabs you and makes you pay attention. In a way though its leatheriness does not possess the striking green slap-across-the-cheek of Bandit or the smooth caress of a gloved hand that is Diorling; resulting in diminished revenue in today’s currency.

*Bandit by Piguet (nose Germain Cellier): an archetypal leathery chypre, with the stunning start of emerald artemisia with equally pungently green isobutyl quinoline, a scent to cut your way through a crowd.

*Biche dans L'Absinthe by Gobin Daudé (nose Gobin Daudé) : part of the discontinued natural line by the homonymous perfumer, it is considered the uber-marvel of green scents. It's such a pity that such wonderful creations succumb to the crass marketing laws of commerce. Rarely seen on Ebay and fetching a pretty penny when it does. Don't miss it if you do find it.

*Déclaration by Cartier (nose Jean Claude Ellena): more of a spicy cardamom and cumin affair of refined refereshement than a jade-shaded liquid to make you feel anything but jaded, it nevertheless vibrates in the frequency of a slightly bitter wormwood accord. Delicious and probably one of my highest recommended masculines (or rather unisex) fragrances of modern perfumery. It has been singled out by Ellena himself as the creation he's most proud of , along with First (although this has been a few years ago, on Scented Pages, so we couldn't possibly exclude that a more recent specimen hasn't usurped that position)

*Douce Amère by Serge Lutens (nose Chris Sheldrake): a bittersweet harmony etched in opaline, singing in a warm contralto, curiously not as popular as others in the export line. It merits its own review shortly, so stay tuned.

*Fou d'Absinthe by L'artisan : a masculine fougère vaguely reminiscent of Paco Rabanne pour Homme with a resinous touch allied to woods. Not remarakably absinth-y and although I am a L'artisan fan I'd rather settle for Timbuktu if I wanted a unisex woody mix with resin and spice.

*Geisha Green by Aroma M: According to the creator of the line Maria McElroy who had the subtle sensibility of Japanese incense in her mind, this is an oil with a key aroma of absinthe, the tart, licorice-flavored liqueur. Here the composition os gently sweetened with black currant, mandarin, and violet, and softened with amber and tonka bean.

*Ivoire by Balmain: classic soapy aldehydic of relatively recent crop (1980) with so much primness that it passes for elegance. Its loveliest trait for me is the mossiness at the base which elevates from a mere soapy floral of chamomile, violet, rose and liluy of the valley. Very subtle wormwood touch, but worth including for a glimpse into the Id.

*JF by Floris: Another aromatic fougere for men. Supposedly named after the founder Juan amenias Floris, who was a Spaniard setting up shop in London , although the brand brandishes its British tradition like a coat of arms. Armoise (which is another name for wormwood shrub) is mixed with cypress. Overall light and fresh, with a mixed citrus top note, but rather simplistic.

*Panamé by Keiko Mecheri: No relation to Patou's Pan Ame, which sounds like an airline company. Reminiscent of pastis, an anisic based liqueur, with a soothing undertone of powdery musks, which isn't particulalrly distinctive. Similar to Douce Amere, but not as successfully executed.

*Soothing Aromaparfum in Aroma Allegoria line by Guerlain: A lesser known little line within the brand is Aroma Allegoria, three fragrances in an effort to combine aromatherapy with the heritage of a perfumery that went after the lush and luscious regardless of botanical properties. So it has been understandably circulating under the radar and eventually discontinued. Some might have considered it hubris to aim in that direction. They might have been right all along.
Soothing Aromaparfum has a predominent linden accord backed with vanillic musk and a touch of wormwood to keep things interesting and despite its inclusion in this offbeat list, it does smell quite tender and cuddly.

*Wormwood by BPAL : From the company who loves to lay their hands on everything forbidden, here comes the bitter heart of absinthe as an almost single note. It will provide interesting fodder for conversation if anyone asks, that's certain.

Scents with pronounced angelica:

*Angéliques sous la pluie by Frederic Malle (nose Jean Claude Ellena): rained upon angelicas is the name and the feeling is that of a gin and tonic on the rocks ~deliciously cool and bitter with a refreshing edge just like a cocktail after a hard day

*Angélique Encens by Creed: perhaps the best offering by Creed. Built around the dark green of the strange angelica plant, the harsh green of it tied to Chartreuse it blends the mysterious tonality of incense to the herbal managing to smell like neither ~rather a vanillic wonder of subtle shades like a devoré velvet cloak on naked feminine shoulders.

*Angélique Lilas in Aqua Allegoria line by Guerlain: A true lilac note in fragrance is one of the most elusive things for an avid perfume lover. Here there is a smidgeon of a good approximation sometime into the development of a slightly bitter opening that adds interest, with the shrill addition of the dreaded Calone (synthetic acqueous melon note). If only I could isolate the really good part!

*Angélique Noire by Guerlain (nose Danièle Andrier): As I had previously noted, not particularly "noire", nor particularly angelica-rich, "we are dealing with a pre-Raphaelite Madonna with curly hair and silky robes that is lost in mystical reverie over the impending Nativity or a post-romantic painting by Waterhouse". Angélique Noire fuses the backdrop of a sweetish, oily accord of citrus and vanilla with a rather bitter beginning; the whole is quite pleasant if not the zenith point of the boutique Guerlain perfumes.

To be continued with fragrances focusing on anise and the often mixed-up star anise.




Painting Jeune Fille Verte by Tamara de Lempicka courtesy of eu.art.com and Biche by Greek painter Parthenis courtesy of eikastikon.gr. Clip originally uploaded by dabblerDOTca on Youtube.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

New Series: Absinthe, Anise and Wormwood

Our new Series takes you into the realm of the forbidden and the bohemian, the realm of the "green fairy that lives in the absinthe" and all the terrors and fascinations she produces in art and perfumery. Perfume Shrine has already tentatively shown a glimpse of its bittersweet, mind-altering magic through a music video by Nine Inch Nails a few days ago, which consolidated the idea of devoting a series to Absinthe and the herbs that aromatize it.
To do that, as usual, we take the long road to explore matters in depth.

Absinthe or "devil in a bottle" is a distilled, anise-flavored, high-proof spirit produced by distilling anise, wormwood (Artemisia absinthium) and various herbs (mainly florence fennel, as well as melissa, hyssop, petite wormwood or artemisia pontica, and angelica root). Its name derives from the Greek αψίνθιον, which is the name of wormwood, but is also interestingly tied etymologically to the Greek goddess of the hunt and the forests, Artemis.
In tracing the historical roots, one comes upon the medical use of wormwood in ancient Egypt (mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus, circa 1550 BC).
Hyssop, a usual ingredient in absinthe, is also referenced in the Bible: "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow". (Psalms 51:7) There is however the hypothesis that the hyssop mentioned, used in bunches for purificatory rites and ritual cleansing of lepers by the ancient Hebrews, is probably not hyssopus officinalis used in the spirit, but a similar plant, capparis spirosa.
There are references to wormwood/la'anah as well: Deuteronomy 29:18; Proverbs 5:4; Jeremiah 9:15; Jeremiah 23:15; Lamentations 3:15, Lamentations 3:19; Amos 5:7; Amos 6:12 as well as the mention of "apsinthos" in Revelation 8:11.


What the Hebrew la'anah may have been is obscure; it is clear it was a bitter substance and it is usually associated with "gall"; in the Septuagint it is variously translated, but never by apsinthos, "wormwood." Nevertheless all ancient tradition supports the English Versions of the Bible translation. The genus Artemisia (Natural Order Compositae), "wormwood," has five species of shrubs or herbs found in Palestine (Post), any one of which may furnish a bitter taste. The name is derived from the property of many species acting as anthelmintics, while other varieties are used in the manufacture of absinthe.
~E. W. G. Masterman, International Stnadard Bible Encyclopedia (Bibletools.org)

Wormwood extracts were definitely employed by the ancient Greeks, who also consumed a wormwood-flavored wine, called absinthites oinos. The latter can be tied to Dionysus, for whom people masqueraded in an ecstatic frenzy during the god's celebrations in early spring. Anise plays an important role in Greek culture even to this day, through the similar preparation for ouzo: an anisic spirit into which water or ice is added producing a cloudy effect and "opening up" the bouquet of herbs.

Absinthe spirit originated in Switzerland, by Dr. Pierre Ordinaire, a French doctor living in Couvet in the 1790s, but it mostly became popular in France. Major Dubied acquired the formula from the Henriot sisters and in 1797, with son Marcellin and son-in-law Henry-Louis Pernod, opened the first absinthe distillery, Dubied Père et Fils. In 1805 a second distillery was built outside Switzerland, in Pontarlier, France, named Maison Pernod Fils. Absinthe's popularity largely ended with a ban in France in 1915, due to its neurotoxic properties that earned it the reputation of a psychoactive drug due to the chemical thujone, a strong heart stimulant present in small quantities in commercial absinthe. However no evidence exists that it is more harmful than ordinary liquer. Absinthe has known a resurgence in the 1990s, when countries in the European Union began to reauthorize its manufacture and sale resulting in over 200 brands circulating, although it is still controversial in the USA.

Although the absinthe distillate can be bottled clear, to produce a Blanche or la Bleue absinthe, the traditional colour has always been green, due to the chlorophyll in the herbal constituents in secondary maceration. Bohemian-style (alternatively known as Czech-style or anise-free absinthe), or just absinth (with no final e) is really wormwood bitters, produced mainly in the Czech Republic and is artificially enriched with absinthin.

Absinthe's notable role in the fine art movements of Impressionism, Post-impressionism, Surrealism, Modernism, Cubism and in the corresponding literary movements has been an inspiration for perfumers, helping them shape their creations and giving breath to la fée verte producing the 'lucid drunkenness' so coveted by artists. It is no accident that it had been the drink of choice for the "damned poets" and bohemians of the 19th century.
As a first tentative taste of the wormwood liquor attests, there is a journey to be had there!
But it is also intriguing to think that the name Chernobyl, the nuclear factory reactor which was responsible for the biggest nuclear accident in history, also means "wormwood", rounding out the biblical prophecy!



"And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters; And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter."
~Revelation 8:10-11

Ernest Dowson, the English poet famous for coining the phrase 'Absinthe makes the tart grow fonder' wrote his Absinthia Taetra on a trip to Paris. Here it is from La Fée absinthe site:

Absinthia Taetra


Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed.
The man let the water trickle gently into his glass, and as the green clouded, a mist fell from his mind.
Then he drank opaline.

Memories and terrors beset him. The past tore after him like a panther and through the blackness of the present he saw the luminous tiger eyes of the things to be.
But he drank opaline.

And that obscure night of the soul, and the valley of humiliation, through which he stumbled, were forgotten. He saw blue vistas of undiscovered countries, high prospects and a quiet, caressing sea. The past shed its perfume over him, to-day held his hand as if it were a little child, and to-morrow shone like a white star: nothing was changed.
He drank opaline.

The man had known the obscure night of the soul, and lay even now in the valley of humiliation; and the tiger menace of the things to be was red in the skies. But for a little while he had forgotten.
Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed.

In Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Draculathe hypnotic effect of absinthe preparation leading to seduction is set to a mesmerising score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar. (you can get it here)


The ritual of serving the bitter green liquid is clearly half its charm. The spirit is poured into a glass over which a specially designed slotted spoon is placed. A sugar cube is then deposited on the spoon and ice-cold water is poured or dripped over the sugar, diluting it to preference. Adding sugar is essential as absinthe is extremely bitter and the essential oils so prized can't come out of suspension by themselves. The non-soluble in water components, mainly those from anise, fennel, and star anise, come out of solution with the water addition resulting in a milky opalescence called the louche (French for “shady”), common in other anisic drinks as well, such as ouzo.

Other films focus on the green spirit as well: Moulin Rouge's absinthe scene is inspired by painter and patron Toulouse Lautrec's own habit of absinthe drinking in the historical music-hall of Paris housed in an old windmill.La fée verte takes the shape of Kylie Minogue, talking with the voice of Ozzy Osbourne.
In From Hell Johnny Depp as Frederick Abberline in pursuit of Jack the Ripper succumbs to the charms of absinthe and laudanum (tinctura opii). But its reputation for being an aphrodisiac is what influenced the scriptwriter for Alfie to include it in a scene in which a sexually voracious older woman (Susan Sarandon) introduces the womaniser into both absinthe and a taste of his own drug.
Lust for Life,a film with Kirk Douglas, also features lots of absinthe consuming scenes, as allegedly the drink was at the root of the painter Van Gogh's madness. In Manon of the Spring glimpses of the practice set in the French countryside can also be seen.

But possibly the film which most accurately references absinthe and wormwood in relation to those who actually made it a trademark, the 19th century "damned poets", is Total Eclipse, the story of the torrid, tempestuous relationship between Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud. Perhaps an unsuccessful film, it holds its special interest for those who are interested in the minutiae of 19th century style and mores.

Adding:An interesting article on modern day absinthe in the US can be found via The New York Times.


To be continued on that note with an exploration of such themes in art and literature and the olfactory pictures they conjure.







Pic of Johnny Depp from film From Hell , as well as label of Dubied Père et Fils courtesy of the wormwoodsociety. Dracula clip uploaded by Richardcontact1962

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