Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle: fragrance review

It is difficult to speak of that which cannot be detained within the cage of words. The ether-like essence of certain beings escapes elucidation, their legerdemain lies into something almost divine in origin. One can only feel it in one's bones, like grim silhouettes walking over one's grave.

Perfumes only rarely reproduce that otherworldy effect, a hubrid of aberrant chill and aching beauty: There is Messe de Minuit by Etro (more of which later) and there is Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens. Two otherwordly vampires of piercing eyes which draw blood inveigling us into submitting willingly to their almost sacral fangs. The olfactory embodiment of Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, there is a thread between Eros and Thanatos in the dangerous alliance which this fragrance proposes, spun in purple and acid-green phosphorus.

Tubéreuse Criminelle (Criminal Tuberose), issued in 1999 by Serge Lutens Les Salons de Palais Royal (under the aegis of Shiseido) is truly felonious in that it makes one yearn for the sting it produces through its most unwarranted beginning: its acetophenon top notes arrest the senses with the disinfectant emissions of long-forgotten attic chests. Yet the effect is nothing short of extremely calculated and ingenious, like a Surrealist painting seen from an angle or the pleasure that comes from drawing a long inhale of a Kool menthol-aromatized cigarette. The sharp and kinky wintergreen/eucalyptus-mint aroma of Tubéreuse Criminelle (usually this is due to methyl salicylate) replicates the menthol blast that the natural blossoms of this devious plant emit when freshly-picked; a technique also employed with a lighter touch in Carnal Flower chez Frédéric Malle. It was exacerbated by Lutens, willing to generously give the fragrance the bend it seemed to take during its creation. Nature in its infinite wisdom has invested the rubbery, bloodlike essence of tuberose with a nose-tingling green glow which balances the intoxicating effect; it was the latter which was accused of producing spontaneous orgasms and thus young maidens in the Victorian era were forbidden from smelling the trumpety little blossoms! Perhaps fittingly Lutens took a popular sensual game of "fire and ice" into investing the composition with aspects of chill and warmth interjecting one another, making Tubéreuse Criminelle panseasonal.

Although Christopher Sheldrake, the perfumer working alongside maestro Serge Lutens, has taken the floral path as the itenerary for his composition, the finished effect reminds me of the subtler bouquet of a Riesling wine with its goût petrol more than a vase of flowers; its effarvescent effect augmenting when the first taste has dissipated from the palate. After the initial phase soft indefiniable flowers emerge, not with the piercingly sweet nature of floral fragrances, but with the creaminess of some white blooms, buttery and silky, lightly reminiscent of kid's glue, folded in a polished musky-sweet base with the merest fruity tonalities; a sensual, whispered drydown that is most unexpected after the initial blast and effortlessly androgynous in character. Like Marlen Dietrich’s name according to Jean Cocteau, but in reverse, Tubéreuse Criminelle starts with a whip stroke, ends with a caress. For sadomasochists and people appreciative of The Agony and The Ecstasy. A masterpiece!!

Notes for Serge Lutens Tubéreuse Criminelle : jasmine, orange blossom, hyacinth, tuberose, nutmeg, clove, styrax, musk and vanilla.

Tubéreuse Criminelle forms part of the Serge Lutens Paris Exclusives, available at Les Salons de Palais Royal as Eau de Parfum in bell jars of 75ml.

A small decant from my botle will be given to a lucky reader!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Serge Lutens scents, Salicylates



Clip of P.I.Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty suite op.66 act III pas de caractere, originally uploaded by imusiciki on Youtube
Top pic via fc04.deviantart.com, bottle pic taken by Elena Vosnaki ©PerfumeShrine

Parfum 137 Nara 1869 Bigarade, Osmanthus, Olibanum: new fragrances reviews

"Princess Asagao had sent perfumes kneaded into rather large balls in two jars, indigo and white, the former decorated with a pine branch and the latter a branch of plum. Though the cords and knots were conventional, one immediately detected the hand of a lady of taste. Inspecting the gifts and finding them admirable, the prince came upon a poem in faint ink which he softly read over to himself. 'Its blossoms fallen, the plum is of no further use. Let its fragrance sink into the sleeves of another.' " ~"The Tale of the Genji"

Parfums 137 is a fledging French niche brand which decided to base their concept on the escapism that perfume so accomodatingly offers: olfactory memory and travel so often powerfully combine, as we have many times personally attested in our "Travel Memoirs" here on Perfume Shrine. Parfums 137 decided to combine that given with the nifty ~but tentative~ alchemist that so many of us hide inside and propose a story layered in 3 different scents which could be mixed and matched, ending up in up to 7 different combinations, so as to produce a unique result each time, however the mood strikes. Hence the subtitle Jeux de Parfums (Perfumes Game). The even niftier touch however is that you could probably use each one of them to layer under other fragrances which you already own, but I will leave this further experimentation to your fertile imagination!

According to the press release with Nara 1869 we're taken on a fictional journey whereupon, a perfumer named Akimoff, was sent by the house of Violet to scout raw materials in mystical Japan on the year 1869. He met a Venitian photographer, Felice Beato, who introduced him to the traditional ceremony Kôdô/Kou-dou, in which participants are asked to recognize essences. The Umegae Chapter (A Branch of Plum) in "The Tale of the Genji" speaks of Incense Making contests, and incense kneaded with honey which form integral part in Kou-dou. It therefore comes as little surprise that it was banned during the later Meiji period because it had become a popular gambling pastime! Still the ceremony is mystifying: The players start with rice chaff ash (kouro-bai), stirred so as to allow for air circulation and placing the hot charcoal on a hole in the center of the censer cup, over which an ash pattern is created (Shin-kouro, Gyou-kouro and Sou-kouro). A vent is pierced and over it a mica plate (Gin-you) is placed where the incense (Kou boku) is finally placed to burn.

Here is a delightful passage from The Tale of the Genji:

"The time had come to review the perfumes. "It should be on a rainy evening," said Genji. "And you shall judge them. Who if not you?" He had censers brought in. A most marvelous display was ranged before the prince, for the ladies were determined that their manufactures be presented to the very best advantage. "I am hardly the one who knows," said the prince. He went over them very carefully, finding this and that delicate flaw, for the finest perfumes are sometimes just a shade too insistent or too bland. Genji sent for the two perfumes of his own compounding. It being in the old court tradition to bury perfumes beside the guardsmen's stream, he had buried them near the stream that flowed between the main hall and the west wing. He dispatched Koremitsu's son, now a councillor, to dig them up. Yu~giri brought them in. "You have assigned me a most difficult task," said the prince. "I fear that my judgment may be a bit smoky." The same tradition had in several fashions made its way down to the several contestants. Each had added ingeniously original touches. The prince was faced with many interesting and delicate problems. Despite Asagao's self-deprecatory poem, her "dark" winter incense was judged the best, somehow gentler and yet deeper than the others. The prince decided that among the autumn scents, the "chamberlain's per- fumes," as they are called, Genji's had an intimacy which however did not insist upon itself. Of Murasaki's three, the plum or spring perfume was especially bright and original, with a tartness that was rather daring. "Nothing goes better with a spring breeze than a plum blossom," said the prince.
Observing the competition from her summer quarter, the lady of the orange blossoms was characteristically reticent, as inconspicuous as a wisp of smoke from a censer. She finally submitted a single perfume, a summer lotus-leaf blend with a pungency that was gentle but firm. In the winter quarter the Akashi lady had as little confidence that she could hold her own in such competition. She finally submitted a "hundred pace" sachet from an adaptation of Minamoto Kintada's formula by the earlier Suzaku emperor, of very great delicacy and refinement. The prince announced that each of the perfumes was obviously the result of careful thought and that each had much to recommend it".

Parfums 137 place Akimoff under the charm of a young geisha on Dec 7th 1869 & subsequently want him to create 3 perfumes based on his experiences of Kodo. Alexandre Bigle, the founder of Parfums 137 came up with the idea of creating a coffret that would incorporate interpretations of these scents and commissioned the trio to nose Isabelle Maillebiau (of Drom Fragrances).

Out of the Nara 1869 triumvirate, Olibanum easily won me over with its nuanced ambience of warmth and cool that raises up into the air in serene tulips of smoke, more Far Eastern Boudhist temples than Orthodox or Catholic crypts.
In Osmanthus the characteristic apricote-suede facets of the natural flower are subtler than in other renditions, with the "sanitised" patchouli of neo-chypres emerging as an underpinning that gives it a disctinctly modern edge. I am reminded of floral woodies such as Coco Mademoiselle or Midnight Poison and their ilk which tells me it will be tremendously popular.
Bigarade is dominated by the heavenly smell of citrus aurantia, or bigaradier; the Seville bitter orange tree that flanks the streets of the Spanish city, and which produces neroli via steam distillation of its leaves and twigs. Here, neroli is fused with the lightly warm, sweetish effluvium of smooth, clean musk, offering another interpretation of the formula that accounts for the tangier and cooler Eau d'Orange Verte.
Personally I thought that the combination of Bigarade and Olibanum complimented one another best, the citrusy facets of one echoeing the tangier facets of the other, but numerous combinations can be tried.

Notes for Parfums 137 Nara 1869:
Bigarade: notes of citruses, white tea blossoms, musk, woods.
Osmanthus: notes of peaches and abricot together with florals and patchouli.
Olibanum: fresh, spicy, an ode to incense with notes of myrrh and patchouli.

Nara 1869 comes in three 15ml/0.5oz sprayers in an illustrated coffret with booklet for 60 Euros and although unavailable in the US, it can be purchased on the official site.

Parfums 137 has also introduced a coffret named Stromboli 1950, comprised of the scents of Spearmint, Myrte and Immortelle (very Med, all of them!) which personally reminds me of the fiesty Roberto Rosellini and Ingrid Bergman affair on that fateful Italian volcanic landscape, but I guess you will have to find out more for yourselves on the official site for Parfums 137 where they also offer samples.

Pics via taiko.be and nipponkodo.com

Stars & Stripes: 10 Quintessentially American Fragrances

Reminiscing of my United States days now that Independence Day is around the corner, I cannot but admit my amazement instigated by the sheer size of the country and the numerous "pockets" of microvariables I witnessed throughout in all matters: nature, people and culture. Who could believe that the Latino-bursting humid Florida with its Art-Deco pastel houses and stretching highways has any relation to the glass skyscrapers, the bustling sidewalk and the loaded, steely sky of New York City? Or how can the jazzy Louisiana with its succulent Creole kitchen be compared to the barbeque pool parties in Los Angeles or the boxwood trees flanking the streets of San Francisco? In trying to assemble a list of quintessentially American fragrances, for men and women to share, I stumble across this very obstacle: One cannot generalise; especially concerning such a multi-nuanced nation as the US!

Still, there are olfactory elements which fuse together to create something that is perceived as American to my mind. The maritime pines, or the palm trees lining Miami beach which remind me of home; mixed with the bay leaves which lace not only Bay Rum the cologne, but also tangy Southern dishes. The lighter Virginia blond tobacco ~so different from the murkier, richer Balkan varieties which I have loved~ remininding me not of Istanbul-bound vagabondages but of a Marlboro rider, free to roam astride in the immense plains. The yellow trillium with its lemon scented flowers and mottled leaves; as well as the ironically named American Beauty Rose, brought from France in 1875 (where it was bred as "Madame Ferdinand Jamin") and commemorated in the Joseph Lamb ragtime "American Beauty Rag". Accessing the fragrances that represent to me the American classics however I recurr to some constants: The desire for a potent message, no matter if it is a "clean" or more herbal/woody one, the affinity for a certain latheriness in even the most dense oriental, the preponderance for traditional proper values.
All these and more comprise my reminiscences and associations with America the Great and I invite you to augment the list with your suggestions. Here are some of my own:

Florida Water Eau de Cologne
The sweet oranges bursting with sunny warmth and tanginess on the branches of Californian and Florida trees are the shift that took place when the traditional European recipe of Eau de Cologne, like the pilgrims, lay foot on the New World by the brand of Lanman & Kemp Barclay in 1808. The addition of clove and lavender imparts two elements of American significance which converge into one: hygiene!

Caswell-Massey's Number Six cologne
Supposedly worn by George Washington and part of the collection of the USA's oldest perfumery, what could be more American? Citrusy and rosemary-rich in a formal but also country-like way, its introduction in 1789 marked the raw, rugged manliness that was necessary for the times: noble ideals fought with decisive dynamism!

Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden
The enterpreneur Florence Graham choose a name out of "Elizabeth and her German Garden", or altenatively from Tennyson's poem "Enoch Arden" and her former partner Elizabeth Hubbard, when she opened her first beauty salon in 1910 and became world famous as Elizabeth Arden. George Fuschs, a Fragonard perfumer, was commissioned to compose a scent that would honour the Kentucky Blue Grass horses of Arden's in 1934. The smell is one of the great outdoors: freshly dewy and herbal, old-fashionedly lavender-tinged pettering out to clean woods. Despite one of Arden's managers ominous forecasting ("it would remind people of manure and would be a flop"), it became her best-seller. Today it is forgotten, which is all the more reason to re-explore it as an American classic.

Old Spice by Shulton
There is no more poignant memory than dads and grandfathers smelling of this enduring classic of smooth spiciness and austere woods, with its traditional flowery accent of lavender and geranium. Intoduced in 1937 by William Lightfoot Schultz and composed by Albert Hauck, the cologne came in an identical men's and women's scent packaged differently, tagged"Early American Old Spice." It's now part of the Procter & Gamble brand. No matter how much it has become a cliché in perfumeland and how hard it is to shed the associations, the greatness of the scent cannot be denied. It was meant for the guys who would rather shed an arm than change grooming products (ie. typical male customers of half of the 20th century) and it has won several blind tests as "the most expensive, the sexiest, the most sophisticated" fragrance.

Youth Dew by Estee Lauder
Estee Lauder, a Hungarian-Jewish-hailing enterpreneur who flourished in the US, was responsible for the first American fragrance rivaling the French, putting American perfumery on the map and coming out victorious. Her classic spicy-balsam oriental of 1953 is a perennial: Introduced as a bath oil, it revolutionised the way women could now buy fragrance for themselves, rather than expect it as a gift. Perfumer Josephine Catapano (with Ernest Shiftan) married aldehydes with carnation, clove, cinnamon on a base of Tolu balsam, frankincense and rich amber to great aplomb. Despite being dense Youth Dew surprises me by its absence of animalistic dirtiness so beloved by the French. Headstrong, musty and not meant for wallflowers, Youth Dew is best ~discreetly~ enjoyed in the original bath oil form or the gorgeous body cream version.

Norell by Norell
''We all knew the formula was long,'' said Josephine Catapano, the perfumer of Norell (also of Youth Dew), ''like a treaty.'' It was her proudest creation (1968) with a pow of raspy galbanum and an intense trail of clove-y spice under the iron-starch aroma of aldehydes, which seems to date it; a fate fitting to someone like Norman Norell who nipped in waists before Dior and never paid attention to the vagaries of trends, choosing the timeless Babe Paley and Katherine Hepburn who both wore the scent. Forgotten, grabbed by Revlon in 1971 and later sold to Five Star Fragrances, Norell remains a harken-back to the glamour of cinemascope American images and wears like a rich mink on pampered skin.

Halston by Halston
The American designer Halston was born as Roy Halston Fronwick and in 1975 he embodied the scent of an era in his eponymous fragrance in a flacon famously designed by Elsa Perreti. Halston is that rare American chypre which forewent the classic Mediterrannean and foresty ambience for a minty and soapy warmth that lingered on skin seductively. In many ways it not only represented the disco epoch of Studio 54 but ironically enough also the "cleaner" values of the American ideal of sexiness.

Lauren by Ralph Lauren
Was there a college-dorm or high-school locker in America in the late 70s and early 80s that didn't smell of this 1978 creation? I've heard not! The terrific success of this part old-fashioned floral (violet, rose and carnation notes), part herbal-woody by Bernand Chant (Cabochard, Aramis, Aromatics Elixir) has pre-emptied the rage for designer scents in the following decades. Regretably has been reformulated to its detriment ruining the collective mementos of a whole generation.

Polo by Ralph Lauren
Conteporary to the feminine Lauren, Polo is as densely woody green as its bottle-green flacon ~in the shape of a flask with a gold cap and the rider trademark of Lauren's sports line embossed~ would denote. Its rich bouquet of patchouli and oakmoss composed by Carlos Benaim is accented with bracing notes of juniper, artemisia and pine with a light whiff of tobacco, embodying the very essence of an American forest getting on its legs and glidying past you like creatures out of The Lord of The Rings.

Happy by Clinique
No matter how much part of the olfactory landscape this cheerful little potion has become, its huge commercial success was based on 2 factors: It smells optimistic, a trait very much ingrained in the core of a new nation like the US, and it is a "Get me everywhere" scent that would never offend, another desirable in the increasingly non-tolerant American urban environment. Perfumer Roy Matts employed emollient tonalities of mimosa, melon and "clean" musks to gloss over the zinginess of grapefruit, resulting in a best-seller that still endures, 12 years after its introduction.

Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely
Three years after the introduction ~and terrific success~ of the first contemporary celebrity scent by Jennifer Lopez, Glow (2002), another popular figure, actress Sarah Jessica Parker agreed to launch her own scent under the aegis of Coty. A dedicated perfume lover with a self-admitted predeliction for CDG Avignon, Bonne Bell Skin Musk and Paris by Yves Saint Laurent, SJP was the perfect person to compose a celebrity scent: she's genuinely interested! Her Lovely is nothing short of lovely indeed, a refined, girly musky trail with subtle floral accents of virtual magnolia that can be pictured on every cute lady reserving a table & couch at Hudson Terrace or Terminal 5 roof deck on a balmy summer evening.

Well, 11 rather than 10. But we might as well leave it be!

Please post your own all-American fragrances recommendations!

Pics: Collen Moore The Stars and the Stripes, wikimedia commons, parfums de pub, cinematic passions.wordpress.com

Jabu by Mona di Orio: new fragrance

Mona di Orio despite rumours to the contrary is alive and kicking and issuing new fragrances. The latest is called Jabu, which means joy, and is inspired by Africa and the Orange Babies Dutch charity (for babies and mothers with HIV).
The new fragrance will include notes of: Brasilian orange flower, South African petit grain and sweet pea, rose damascena, ylang ylang, Amyris sandalwood, Siamese benzoin, plum and myrrh (according to Basenotes & official press).