Art Revered for the Sake of Reverence?

In the film “How to steal a million” (William Wyler,1966) the plot revolves around a prized Cellini Venus lent by the heroine’s father to a respected Paris museum; the minor detail is the Venus statuette was not sculpted by Cellini but by Nicole's grandfather, who is a forger! (Art frauds are nothing new) The audience is kept at such a distance thanks to technological systems guarding the art piece that no one can discern the truth.
Yet audiences and critics don’t want to see the sculpture itself, they insist in admiring its value. It’s a monetary value, to be sure, but, more than that, a value of prestige. The work of art is exalted not merely because it is beautiful, but because it has been globally tagged as beautiful. [Of course, if you missed that day at school, art history courses are available online to discuss this in more detail.]

On another real-life occasion a lady reading a newspaper exclaims “By Jove, a Guido Reni painting has sold for X million dollars! Who is this Reni, anyway?!” Another customer at the same café informs her he’s a famous painter. “But how did he manage to become so famous? Those painters have it good! Ah, he’s a 17th century painter, I see…”. And with that decisive tidbit read in the length of the article she returns to her coffee appeased.
What do these incidents teach us and how are they related to art and subsequently perfumery (a form of art for some)?


First of all any piece put on a pedestal is there to be worshipped, it isn’t asking or giving anything really. This is true with paintings and sculptures at the Louvre (your arms would fall off if you attempted to touch the Venus de Milo, such is the guarding!) but also of anything that has attained the status of “masterpiece” such as legendary perfumes (Shalimar, Chanel No.5, Mitsouko, Miss Dior, Cabochard…) Worshipping an art piece ~especially if we are not certain of its authenticity or its well-preserved state or if we do not instinctively like it~ transforms it into a fetish: we do not derive pleasure from it in real time but from the pleasure it had induced in the past! Perhaps to people whom we did not even know! Since the current Shalimar in production is but a pale spectre of itself, how much of this reverence is genuinely heart-felt and how much is cultural upbringing? And how poignant the line in another film is, "The Object of Beauty" (Michael Lindsay-Hogg, 1991) in which the rich couple debate whether to sell the wife’s Henry Moore sculpture, right until it gets stolen, whereas the deaf-mute maid admires it for its beauty rather than the value it represents voicing this immortal line: “It spoke to me; and I heard”.
In artistic terms, the phenomenon of feeling a pre-digested and codified emotion is called Kitsch.

Usually “Kitsch [is] defined as an aesthetically impoverished object of shoddy production, meant more to identify the consumer with a newly acquired class status than to invoke a genuine aesthetic response”. [1]

But in the words of Hermann Broch [2], Kitsch is not only a replica or a vulgar upstart but the entire Modern Art genre from Romanticism onwards ~the latter emphasized the need for expressive and evocative art work, you see~, since art is being made unto a purpose in itself and to be consumed as beauty. In other words, it’s being produced as a museum piece on a pedestal! Broch also accuses kitsch of not participating in the development of art, having its focus directed at the past.

Secondly, we note the graceful, forgiving halo of time. In our example of Guido Reni, if the painter lived, the lady would be livid on how he attained such selling prices. Now that he’s dead, somehow it is considered proper and justified to be famous and valued expensively. Reverting to perfumes, an old perfume is certainly viewed as better than a new release. Or isn’t it? This is especially significant if we notice that in the discussion there was no mention whatsoever of the beauty of Reni’s paintings, only the time-frame in which they were created and the fact that they still circulate. And there is also a kind of appeased class envy: if Reni was alive, there would be some, whereas now there is none. Additionally a crucial aspect isn’t pointed: someone sold the painting for X millions and therefore profited that amount. However that monetary aspect ~which is rampant in the perfumes auctioning as well~ justified via the values of perceived beauty and time elapsed is eluding the aspiring middle-class audience who is brought up to believe in humanistic values instead. According to that Kant dictum, values are intrinsic (thus beauty is a thing of its own and not “in the eye of the beholder”, otherwise there can not be universal masterpieces and the Mona Lisa could be equated with Lucy in the Field with Flowers at MOBA); or alternatively they are born out of a plane of existence more elevated than the audience’s own. Enter the sanctioned plane of the perfume critic who surely “knows”, therefore his/her opinion is more valid than one’s own experience. But that is also another manifestation of kitsch in the sense explained above!
This is why we read such statements as:

“I tried it [Douce Amère by Serge Lutens] for the first time last night and it did not work for me, sadly. Am I just not far enough along in this hobby to appreciate frags like this? Will I like it later? I can tell that it's well composed and appreciate it-- but I don't like the way that it smells”. [3]

And why blind tests between a cheaply produced perfume sur-mesure and a real expensive one do not always play out as one would have expected!

Virginia Woolf captured these problematics in her famous "middlebrow" discussion. [4]Whereas low-brows like that they like, crude as it might be or not (Emannuel Kant describes the direct appeal to the senses as "barbaric" which might be a wonderful reference when experiencing Dioressence, formally introduced as “le parfum barbare”! Think about it!), high-brows like what their elitist stance manifests into creating. Which leaves middle-brows: On the whole they are educated people who aspire into bettering themselves through the appreciation of art.
This indadvertedly reminded me of Philipe Martinet’s scorn on Ingmar Bergman[5]:

“He is the hero of that peculiar creature of our times -the wannabe, the pseudo, the pretend-intellectual who finds the incomprehensible to be profound, the obscure to be enlightening and the disgusting to be ennobling”.

Yet, editor Russell Lynes satirized Virginia Woolf’s concept in the article "Highbrow, Lowbrow, Middlebrow" [6], attributing the distinctions to a means of upholding cultural superiority and subtly lauded middlebrows in their zeal. His parodying of the highbrow claim that the products a person uses distinguishes his/her level of cultural worth, by satirically identifying the products tied to a middlebrow person, has a real and tangible significance in the world of perfume use. Are we better, more educated, more discerning, and more “in the know” because we appreciate an obscure niche scent such as By Kilian Liaisons Dangereuses? Is the effect even more pronounced and pointed as an external attribute because it costs a lot of money too? Does the trend of high-end exclusive lines within mainstream brands (Prada and Armani boutique exclusives, Guerlain Les Parisiennes, Chanel Les Exclusifs etc.), constitute an aesthetic middlebrow manifestation apart from a marketing technique?

Let’s also examine the instance in which an artist (a perfumer?) is invited to spend the day amidst bourgeois society, where he/she is bombarded with questions pertaining to inner meanings of art and philosophy, resulting in equating the artist with how once upon a time the court jester was regarded: someone to provide pleasure and some degree of the inner workings of life and art (Compare with the Shakespearean fool in "King Lear")

I do not purport to have all the answers, but the discussion is open to all and I welcome your input. Milan Kundera said it best in "The Unbearable Lightness of Being":

“Kitsch causes two tears to flow in quick succession. The first tear says: How nice to see children running on the grass! The second tear says: How nice to be moved, together with all mankind, by children running on the grass! It is the second tear that makes kitsch kitsch”

May we all remember that when faced with a revered perfume!


Thanks to Angela of NST for inspiring this stream of thoughts in the first place.

Refs:
[1]Kitsch definition
[2] Hermann Broch overview
[3] MUA fragrance board quote
[4]Woolf, Virginia. "Middlebrow." The Death of the Moth, and Other Essays. London, Hogarth P., 1942.
[5]What the heck is art.blogspot.com
[6]Lynes, Russell. The Tastemakers. New York, Harper, 1954.
Pics of How to Steal a Million with Audrey Hepburna & Peter O'Toole via doctormacro1.info and Absolut ad via gone4sure.files.wordpress

Frequent Questions: How do I date my Diorissimo bottle?

One might answer that question quipping you could dine it and wine it, but jokes aside let's focus on how you would date your Christian Dior Diorissimo fragrance in the sense of chronologising it; a question on the back of the minds of many perfume enthusiasts who are justifiably confused. It's kind of tricky, indeed, since Diorissimo has changed so many times and so often the details on the bottles are minor. In this guide we will try to sort out the different bottles and versions of Diorissimo, so it becomes much easier for all of our readers.

The initial presentation of Diorissimo, created by Edmond Roudnitska in 1956, came in what is known as the amphora bottle. A flacon of Baccarat crystal designed in the shape of an ancient amphora with curved body and a bronze bouquet of flowers sprouting off its top. That presentation held the parfum and is extremely rare and expensive nowadays. Basically it's a museum piece, therefore it shouldn't concern you when buying online yourself; I am including it for the sheer plush of its coffret and its reclining beauty.

The amphora shape in rather simplified form became the design for Diorissimo later on. Some of these bottles rise their heads from time to time, at costly prices. The stopper has a bulbous shape. The same design was recently used for the Collection Particuliere Passagere.

In the interim, today's bottle design was first conceived and introduced in the 1960s. This 1965 ad with the design by René Gruau shows two designs for Diorissimo: a tall cylinder of leveled glass with a wide, round silver cap with the name in a band across its breadth; and a smaller flask-shaped flacon with a transparent round cap and the name on a thick-paper insert on the front of the bottle, crowned by the characteristic little bow of parfums Dior.

The classic houndstooth design established itself in the end of the 1960s, the 70s, all through the early 80s. The juice appears darker than it was in real time, because of oxidation due to the passage of time. The versions circulating included Eau de Toilette and Eau de Cologne, lighter concentrations than extrait de parfum, but bearing all the radiance and beauty of the original formula. These are the bottles I recall on my grandmother's vanity as a small child. They were splash bottles, a usual design for the era, but there was also the option of attaching a spray mechanism, as depicted in this photo.





The parfum version was encased in the previous design flacons with the cap in gold. And an Eau de Cologne was also circulating in this tall presentation. Much later the same version took on a plastic spray mechanism with box still in black and white houndstooth and a pink oval on the front.

When LVMH took over Christian Dior in the mid-90s, all the classic fragrances in the line took another uniform shape: the flask-like bottle, topped with a rounded diaphanous cap; essentially a throw-back to the past. This design was extended into all the special limited editions of the Dior line as well (Dior me, Dior me not, Chris 1947, Dior Lily etc.)
Up till fairly recently the Diorissimo bottles circulating were these: pink box, Diorissimo tag in white oval. The bottle was shaped as usual, the letters cursive and on the glass itself, no sticker. This is the version that Luca Turin granted 4 stars in his "Perfumes, the Guide", saying"today's Diorissimo is unquestionably different from the older version although still a thing of great beauty". The colour of the juice was straw-like and lighter than before, although not as clear as present juice.

The extrait de parfum however took on a curiously clear tint which indicated the lack of certain heavier molecules. The oval with the logo is actually greyer than the photo indicates.

Diorissimo has very recently (2009) changed it packaging yet again to denote the impending restrictions implemented to the levels of hydroxycitronnelal (a lily of the valley aroma-chemical and the main constituent of Diorissimo's muguet bouquet): the newer white packaging with pink “oval” bearing the name states hydroxycitronellal further behind other ingredients instead of the slightly older batch of pink packaging with white oval. The change is subtle and very cunning: while right now the packaging can be an indicator of batches, the introduction of a different colour schema is an optical blurring, ready for further –and final- chopping off! The consumer will never be able to realise without minutely examining the allergens list, which -let’s face it- is not what most people do.

Diorissimo bottle collecting is also tricky because the fragrance does not keel well over the years, being rich in highly volatile essences and swiftly deteriorating aromata resulting in diminished freshness. Therefore caution should be employed when eyeing auctions of older bottles.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Frequent Questions

Pics via basenotes, perfumemaking.blogspot,a367.yahoofs.com, productserve.com and perfumeshrine

Idole d’Armani: new fragrance

"Every man has his muse and for Giorgio Armani there have been many. With his latest fragrance, Idole d’Armani, the designer wanted to celebrate the women who have influenced his life, both professionally and personally".(http://www.com/) The perfume is described as a spicy floral scent created by Bruno Jovanovic of IFF . Idole "opens with [notes of] Sicilian clementine, juicy pear, ginger and Indian davana. Its heart is of absolute saffron, Egyptian jasmine, and loukoum rose, and the drydown is of patchouli and vetiver."

"Giorgio Armani seems to find women fragrances a more difficult field to tackle, due to the notoriously fickle character of women consumers vs men (Might I here remind him and everyone else in the industry that fragrance companies have successfully detered us from having a signature scent, much like it had been the vogue for generations of women before us, in light of the marketing concept of a "fragrance wardrobe" which would purpotedly boost companies' sales?) "It's much more difficult," he said. "Women are very unfaithful -- psychologically speaking. Maybe it's because I'm a man and I know what men like. [They] like fragrances that [make them] feel like a man. Now there is too much promiscuity between a female and a male fragrance. [...]American women like a certain kind of fragrance, stronger and very personal. I sometimes say it's a little bit like an elevator fragrance. When a woman gets onto an elevator, you can smell this fragrance. It's a bit too much."...
Hmm, not exactly the best possible quote when every perfume company is trying to lure the American market which accounts for the lion's share of revenue. But we will see how it will play out. The new fragrance launches next September.

Sculpture L'eternel idol by A.Rodin

"I do it for you, I do it for us": the Lady Noire affaire

Not strictly perfume related but I thought it was an exquisitely produced commercial bordering on proper art. The new film for Lady Dior, the famous handbag, popularised by Lady Diana Spencer, features Marion Cottilard incarnating a noire heroine out of a 40s film that includes tycoon husbands, unfaithful wives, villains in fedoras aplenty, abduction captives and the precious commodity: a black Lady Dior! Directed by Olivier Dahan (who rejoins Cottilard after La môme), the story is set to unfold in another 3 future instalments (Lady Rouge, for instance, is the next one), promising to shape up into a proper long feature!
Might I also comment on the fabulous makeup on Marion Cottilard?

Please watch the exclusively for the Web film following this Dior link.
(there is also a making-of behind the scents featurette)

Or here:



Too bad the Dior fragrances are going so downhill...

Clip originally uploaded on Youtube by coupsdepub

Olivier Durbano Turquoise: new fragrance & musings on gems

I gaze upon my small collection of turquoise jewels as soon as the weather warms up with the contemplation of someone who has been wearing the gemstone fully aware of its superstitious nature. In my culture turquoise is said to protect against the evil eye. But its vividness of hue, which is so well brought out in the warmth of the summer, is also thought to be indicative of the wearer's health: losing its luster in illness and in death, yet regaining its original richness in the hands of a new, healthy owner!
In the 3rd century, it was believed to protect against falling off a horse, to attract poisons, heal the eyes and aid against bites from snakes and scorpions. Changes in its shade indicated the infidelity of a wife. Arabian writings claimed "The turquoise shines when the air is pure and becomes pale when it is dim." (12th century AD) A gemstone truly immersed in legend!

Olivier Durbano, architect and jewellery designer, has created the line Parfums de Pierres Poèmes, liquid poems that interpret the magic of gemstones into fizzying emitions on the skin. After Tourmaline Noire, Amethyste, Cristal Rock, Jade, which took olfactory life thanks to tea, incense, jasmine and amber, now Turquoise joins the small and elegant line with a fragrance in the corresponding pastel greenish-blue hue of the semi-precious gemstone.

Turquoise, a hydrous phosphate of copper and aluminium, has been prized for its beautiful intensity of shade and rich, opaque feel since antiquity. It has adorned rulers of Ancient Egypt, the Aztecs, Persian and Mesopotamian priests and kings, and to some extent it has been also used in ancient China since at least the Shang Dynasty. In Egypt the first proof of use dates to the First Dynasty (3100-2890 BC), culminating into the iconic Tutankhamun's burial mask, but allegedly even prior to that turquoise was prized by the Egyptians and therefore mined in the Sinai Peninsula, called "Country of Turquoise" by the native Monitu. Etymologically the word derives from the 16th century French, either denoting Turkish origin (turquois) or evoking dark-blue stone (pierre turquin). However the best and highest-grade turquoise (a uniform robin egg's blue) always came from Persia/Iran, brought to Europe via the Silk Route and the writings of Marco Polo. But the beauty of the stone, heavily traded in Turkish bazaars and lovingly capturing the wonderful colour of the Mediterranean Sea of the Turkish coasts ~which inspired the Seljuks to adorn their abodes and homes with decorative tiles in these sunny shades~ might have accounted for the misattribution. In the words of Gubelin: " "This misnomer is readily explained by the fact that the first stones did not reach Europe directly from Persia [i.e., Iran], but rather through the intercession of seafaring Venetians who purchased them at Turkish bazaars." [1]
The deposits of California and New Mexico were mined by pre-Columbian Native Americans using stone tools and the stone is ingrained into their cultural and philosophical beliefs resulting in ceremonial jewellery and masks of astonishing ~and sometimes disturbing~ designs. The Apache Indians believed turquoise to combine the spirits of both sea and the sky, while the Navajo attributed to it qualities of an ex caelis fallen stone (a gem fallen from heavens). The Zunis of North America thought the blue of the sky represents light from their "spirit bird" reflected from the top of a mountain of turquoise. However, in an opposite sense other Native Americans of the southwestern United States region are said to have thought turquoise so-to-speak stole its color from the sky.

All these thoughts come to me as I contemplate how Olivier Durbano will interpret turquoise into what seems like a woody-ozonic fragrance with accents of incense like the rest of his line. The "mineral" quality of fragrances usually relies on synthesized materials, such as quinolines, aldehydes, and certain synthetic musks. [2] But in Olivier Durbano's Turquoise, the notes indicate a fragrance which evokes the milieu in which turquoise shines best, the cool azure of the sea and the warm tint of a clear summery sky. So the experiment is exciting to anticipate.
Gemstones and jewels have been nothing new to perfumery as a baptism concept, from the groundbreaking Emeraude by Coty and little-known vintage Blue Sapphire by Lynette New York, through the Elizabth Taylor commemorative collection and Paco Rabanne's aptly named Liquid Crystal, right up to Gem and Birmane (evoking rubies)by Van Cleef & Arpels (jewellers themselves). Lately many fragrances re-immersed themselves into the luxurious aspect that gems give: The Durbano line of course, some from Avon, Lalique Amethyst, Jette Joop Dark Sapphire, the Bulgari Omnia line (Améthyste, Green Jade, Crystalline), Versace Bright Crystal, the Sage Machado line, the Armani Privé line (with Pierre de Lune, Cuir Améthyste, Eau de Jade), Patricia de Nicolai Eau Turquoise, all the way to Lauder's Emerald Dream and the completely unknown (and dubious?) to me Aqua Sapphire by Guerlain.
No one can resist a little glimpse of bling-bling it seems!


Turquoise by Olivier Durbano features the following notes:
Head notes: Maritime pine resin, roseberry, elemi, Somalian incense, coriander, juniper
Heart notes: Alga fucus (seaweed), lily, fragrant reed, lotus blossom
Base notes: Everlasting Flower/Immortelle/Helycrisum, honey, myrrh wood, ambergris

[1]Link

[2]Jean Claude Ellena classification