Scent of the Vanishing Flora (2010) by Roman Kaiser: Perfume Book Review

“Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It's contrast.”

                        ―Virginia Woolf, played by Nicole Kidman in "The Hours" (2002)

by guest writer AlbertCAN

Perhaps the most peculiar aspect of the fragrance industry, in the current sea of familiarity, is its ever forward-venturing heart. Just short of fully channelling the great prophetess Cassandra of Troy, fragrance taste-makers are constantly asked not just Quoi de neuf? No, any top brass should be asked to envision what’s next five or even ten years from now, where people’s taste are migrating, how people see themselves in the foreseeable future. Strategizing vision, navigating instability. After all, as any good MBA school dictates, a business leader articulates not just the now but the tomorrow. Or so on paper.

Of course, I’m writing about a climate where almost anything could be copyrighted but the actual fragrance formula, at a time when the next fragrance launch is really a thinly veiled doppelgänger of non-descript best sellers. Promise everything but sell them run of the mill. And in the era of good enough it really takes a book such as “Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Swiss fragrance chemist Roman Kaiser to remind myself that interesting works are being conducted beneath the seemingly boring façade.

Since 1968 Kaiser has been working for Givaudan, where he analyzes and reconstitutes natural scents for use in perfumery using the headspace technology, and after Douglas Stermer’s 1995 publication “Vanishing Flora: Endangered Plants Around the World” Givaudan began its aromatic exploration of endangered plants via eco-friendly, non-intrusive means. As of the end of 2010 Kaiser has analyzed 520 scented endangered plant species around the world; 267 are featured in this book.

The quality of Kaiser’s research is truly bar none, detailing each featured plant not just its ecology and history but also linking its scents to the major aromatic components. The book presents the flora with utmost respect, featuring large, high-resolution photos of nearly all the plants and gives very clear, concise descriptions of their conservation status at the time of writing. The scent profiles of each plant are equally thoughtful and concise, listing aspects of each scent not just by their characteristics, but also the aromatic components the scents are attributed to—not just their names in IUPAC but also the structural diagrams where applicable. To illustrate Kaiser’s superb ability to fuse the artistic with the scientific I have his account of the gorgeous night-blooming cereus:

"Equally spectacular in its flower and in contrast to S. wittii, more often seen in collections is Selenicereus grandiflorus, the famous ‘Queen of the Night’. The vine-like climber is native to Mexico, Jamaica, and Cuba, and develops large, amazingly beautiful flowers of the purest white surrounded by rayed golden petals. The flowers are also strictly nocturnal, moth pollinated, opening after sunset, reaching their maximum around mid-night, and already withering at dawn. They produce a very warm and rich aromatic-flower perfume backed up by white-floral facet which is quantitatively dominated by benzyl isovalerate [Kaiser’s diagram below], accompanied by a series of other isovalerates and esters of isomayl alcohol. These compounds, in part arising from the leucine catabolism, are, together with vanillin, olfactorily responsible for the vanilla and cocoa aspects, while linalool, (E,E)-farnesol, and high amount of (E,E)-farnesal including isomers contribute the white-floral and lily of the valley-related aspect. To protect this unique species at its natural habitat form overcollection for commercial puposes, it has been placed in CITES Appendis II. Among the 27 nocturnal species within Selenicereus, most have an equally stunning appearance but many have scents which correspond more to the so-called ‘white-floral’ concept often found among night-scented flowering plants".[Kaiser, 174]

              

vanillin

benzyl isovalerate

                                               

linalool

                                          

(E,E)-farnesol

             

(E,E)-farnesal

                             

If great natural scent variations are present within a plant, such is the case of a few orchids Kaiser would mention them as well. (Octavian has sampled a number of the scents featured in this book here so I shall not digress on that front.)

The most alarming aspect of the book, at least to me, isn’t about the far-flung, exotic plants featured in this book (which there are plenty) but the everyday, familiar gardening plants that are in fact on the brink of extinction due to over-harvesting. The ginkgo tree, as Kaiser informs, was thought to be extinct in the wild for centuries until “two small populations have been discovered in Eastern China” (pg. 37). Then the wide array of orchids due to a varying combination of deforestation and excessive harvesting: cattleyas, laelias, cymbidiums, dendrobiums—plants we see or even buy in garden centers and florists but in fact fast disappearing from the face of the earth. Or the gamut of trees due to their historical and cultural significance: rosewood, sandalwood, agarwood...I am beginning to see why the great Taoist writer and philosopher Zhuangzi often championed the non-descript, for brilliant things are often used and abused.

Still, the genius of this book is not based on just its multi-disciplinary approach or seamlessly fusing botany, ecology, organic chemistry, anthropology and even sociology. At the end of the day Kaiser presents a thoroughly researched, pain-stakingly detailed anthology of endangered plants. Readers from all walks of life can take away something from this book: for the average readers, the stunning photographs and stories; for the botanists and ecologists, the thorough research on the conservation of plants; and most importantly for fragrance chemists, the all too important scent readings that allow the future preservation of these plants, even only in their scents.

Some minor caveats, however. Firstly, for those who only wish to pick up a copy as a coffee table book, as chic as it might sound, they might be put off by the wide array of chemistry featured in this book. In fact having some post-secondary background in science, be it botany or organic chemistry, is highly recommended in order to fully comprehend the book. Still, to be honest the book is enticing enough even if you skip a few chemical names. On the other hand for those who are very chemically proficient: Kaiser did not include every single scent reading—the results on agarwood, for instance, aren’t shown (I’ve checked—several times) even though a sizable section is devoted to Kaiser’s findings. Minor grumblings compared to the overall quality of the work, however.

“Scent of the Vanishing Flora” by Roman Kaiser was published by Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim. I purchased my copy from Amazon.ca.

Photos: Book cover photo from Leffingwell; Selenicereus grandiflorus from patspatioplants.com; compound diagrams from Google.com

Reference: R. Kaiser, Scent of the Vanishing Flora, Verlag Helvetica Chimica Acta, Zürich, and Wiley-VCH, Weinheim, November 2010, ISBN 13: 978-3-906390-64-2, 400 pages.

Twin Peaks: Calvin Klein Secret Obsession & Oriflame Chiffon

Usually the Twin Peaks series, an album comprised of smell-alike snapshots, springs from the demand for similar-smelling perfumes, either less expensive homologue scents, alternatives when a specific fragrance doesn't quite work but you know you like the effect or substitutes when one's favourite is ruined through reformulations. The case of Secret Obsession and Chiffon by Oriflame (a Swedish skincare & cosmetics company that distributes its products throughout the world BUT for the USA) is neither: The former just immediately sprang to mind upon happening to smell the latter. And it needed documenting for posterity's sake, especially now that Calvin Klein's Secret Obsession is getting axed and disappearing from fragrance counters. Who knows, it might be someone's favourite and they might be desperate to find a replica!

Though Chiffon is not an intentional replica (i.e. a dupe), being neither marketed nor created as such, the case with Oriflame perfumes is that often they reprise the formulae of successful brands with minimal twists. Anyone who has ever smelled their perfume portfolio has noticed that Volare for instance is Lancôme Trésor's "décolletage over a peach angora sweater" less flamboyant sister. That's nothing new in the perfumery market of course, when big companies unblushingly flat out copy other big companies, but I digress. The reason in this case is because Oriflame fragrances are developed by the same company that develops brand fragrances for designers (namely Givaudan). Like with many Twin Peaks articles, a good formula is carried on by perfumers from brief to brief (see L de Lolita Lempicka and Musc Ravageur, both by Maurice Roucel, or Azuree, Cabochard and Aramis, all by Bernand Chant).
Oriflame isn't reticent on putting impressive images into their presentation either: they hired mega-model Natalia Vodianova for their Midnight Pearl previously in a clip that was eerily reminiscent of the Dior Midnight Poison commercial in all its sweeping drama. So looking down on them isn't always a wise move is what I'm saying; they have a few things worthy of further exploration.

Secret Obsession is presented as a floriental, created by Givaudan perfumer Calice Becker and art-directed by Ann Gottlieb who is responsible for many Calvin Klein successful launches. To me however it registers as lightly fruity-spicy-woody, much like the Lancome feminine fragrance Magnifique, with which it shares many facets. Poised between Lauder's Sensuous and Magnifique, along with its congenial sisters, it's part of the new vogue in feminine fragrances: namely woody, duskier notes.

The initial impression of spraying Secret Obsession is rum-like boozy with an alcoholic hairspray blast petering out quickly, plummy and ripe but not overtly sweet (a good thing!), especially compared with the overall sweeter Magnifique.
In Secret Obsession there is a distinct phase in which the resinous, intense aroma of mace provides a welcome surprise as the fragrance opens up on the warmth of skin.
The overall effect is tanned skin, cocoa-buttyric musky, cedary-woody, much of it accountable to Cashmeran (a woody musk of synthetic origin) and is less loud than the oriental monochromatic amber of the original Obsession by Calvin Klein or the fruity megaphones of Euphoria, but perceptible. Secret Obsession has a linear development that doesn't change much as you wear it: the initial scent becomes warmer and duskier, but doesn't change significantly over time. I wouldn't necessarily deem it too sexy or provocative (despite the advertising) and would prefer to see it in a body oil concentration where its shady character would shine.

Chiffon has a lovely name, evocative of a sheer, expensive material with a soft tactile feel and reprises the softest elements in Secret Obsession to project as a woody-musky hum with indefinable "clean" notes that translate as soft, powdery, whispery. It's accompanied by sensual advertising that is short of the overt sexual innuendos in the Calvin Klein scent. It's just a classier image overall. Typically for an Oriflame fragrance Chiffon is light in volume and not tremendously lasting (invariably they're eaux de toilette), though decently pleasant and wearable. The bottle is overall more innocent, less weird and more conventionally pretty than the Klein vessel. Incidentally, Chiffon is Oriflame's local best-seller, alongside Elvie, and comprises a body cream and body spray deodorant in the same scent.I guess it hits upon the local desire for abstract smells (nobody desires a straight vanilla or a flat out  fruit scent) , manageable price points and a hint of sensuality in the mix.
Tuberose is almost non existent in Chiffon, it's so minimal, but then the same happens with Secret Obsession anyway. The given notes do not mention mace, though the note appears the same as it does in Secret Obsession and is indeed the individual twist which differentiates them from just any woody floriental on the shelves. In fact while comparing the notes for both perfumes what jumps up to the nose is -for once- corroborated from what appears in black on white. Proceed accordingly. Just hurry, if you want to grab a bottle for yourself, because Oriflame is also known for axing fragrances right & left.No one's perfect!

Notes for CK Secret Obsession:
Top: exotic plum, mace, rose Damascena
Heart: French orange blossom, Egyptian jasmine, tuberose, plum, woods
Base: cashmere woods (=Cashmeran, a soft, woody musk), burnt amber, Australian sandalwood

Notes for Oriflame Chiffon:
Top: plum, ylang-ylang , iris
Heart: orange blossom, tuberose, plum, cedar, patchouli
Base: white musk, sandalwood

Smell like a Yankee: Now to a Fragrance Counter Near You

According to the Daily News, the Yankees will be selling his-and-her fragrances in April: "The men’s fragrance captures 'a sporty and confident attitude, creating a timeless masculine' scent, redolent with 'fresh wood tones, an invigorating blend of sparkling bergamont, coriander and cool blue sage,' the manufacturer says. The ladies’ scent is described as an 'alluring and fruity' melange that blends 'guava, succulent plum and sun-kiss apricot nectar.'"

Hmmm....I classify under celebrity scent news.

A Yankees vice president explained that this "will strengthen brand awareness for its fragrances and be an exciting new addition to Yankees prestige and lifestyle products."

On second thought, strike my comment above out; I hereby classify this as cashing out news.

On third though, that's small potatoes. No, strike that one out too; there's a McCaine's potato scent for UK bus stops, reported on three Canadian online news sites (this is just one of them)
We live in a weird world.

"There's Something About You Girl that Makes me Sweat"

Givenchy music video for the brand’s new fragrance Givenchy Very Irrésistible Electric Rose starring Liv Tyler, the face of current Givenchy perfumes (waste of beauty if you ask me, but of course you didn't so I'll shut up now).
The fragrance will be available for purchase in stores in April 2012.
The clip is choreographed by Bianca Li and filmed by Swedish director Johan Renck.
The music is a cover of INXS's "I Need You Tonight"

What do you think?

Definition: French Style Perfume ~Connotations & Meanings

If the Great Big Sea are to be taken literally, "you can smell that French perfume" on the wake of a contraband ship "if the wind turns right". In a world where everything has a received value besides its inherent one, Pilsener has to be Czech, computers should be USA-made, feta cheese must absolutely be Greek and perfume would be French (I suppose Absolut drinkers might get rallied up by now, but carry on please). The French have more or less cornered the market in what has to do with posh, sophisticated perfume (though there are wonderful specimens from all over the world, from the most unlikely places, such as Australia, Greece, or Germany). But how many actually know that "French type perfume" or "French style scent" is indeed very specific terminology to denote a specific olfactory experience, a certain scentscape if you will, a specific fragrance family even? And yet, like with many things in perfumery jargon (we insist that the nose is never wrong, it's the brain that muddles things up), it is so.

If we look back in magazine articles, perfume books and trade documents spanning the decades from the 1950s up to the end of the 1970s,  aldehydic perfumes are referred to as "modern type"or "french type". This was both due to the public's unfamiliarity with perfumery jargon (the industry was even more cryptical then) and due to a need for simplification for communicating the product to the consumer: modern or French denoted much more than a reference to chemistry (aldehydic fragrances are those which are characterised by a specific sequence of aliphatic aldehydes in their formula, scented molecules usually constructed in the lab). Especially since the emblematic torch-holder was Chanel No.5: both supremely "modern" for its times, the 1920s (thanks in part to the newly popularised bouquet of aldehydes) and quintessentially French as everyone knows.

But that's not all. In bibliography there was French type No 1 and French type No 2: the former a classic floral aldehydic, molded after Chanel No.5 and Arpège, the most famous surviving examples (others in the genre are Guerlain Liu and Guerlain Vega,  Piguet Baghari); the second was the chypre aldehydic perfume, of which Calèche is a prime candidate still circulating to this day (others include Mystère by Rochas and Paco Rabanne Calandre). Is it any wonder that even the perfume brand names are French sounding, replete with accents aigus and accents graves?

Technically speaking chypre perfume isn't particularly French of course, since it's an old formula/tradition that survived from the oldest cradle of perfume in the world: the Eastern Mediterranean, specifically the island of Cyprus. (Chypre is French for Cyprus, plus the best variety of cistus labdanum -an intergal material in the mix- grows in the East Mediterranean). But it did transport its effulgent magnificence to France thanks to a royal figure: Marie de Médicis (1575-1642), queen consort, lured by perfumes from Cyprus, the famous chyprés, then imported with a vengeance due to the opening of the Middle East route thanks to the Crusades, sent for her Florentine perfumer Tombarelli to come to Grasse, where the flowers were renowned, instructing him to capture their ambience in perfumed essences. From then on, a symbiosis of Greco-Franco roots produced this characteristic type of perfume we refer to as chypre. But what does it have to do with French type No.2? I'm getting there.

The chypre accord is pliable, though tightly structured, in that it can assimilate a selective bee harvest ingelements from diverse pools of scent: give it a twist with animalic or leathery notes and it almost creates a sub-category; sheen it with florals and it gets very close to the green floral (see Cristalle and Chanel No.19, on the cusp of the two classifications); inject it with woody-musky notes and you have nouveau chypres; and finally sprinkle with the waxy, lemony radiance of aldehydes and you have the aldehydic chypre, aka French Type No.2! The style was popularised through cheaper variants for the middle and lower market and through soaps (The soaps of the 1970s have nothing to do with the soaps of today; their olfactory profiles are miles apart, documenting evolving tastes and evolution in the functional fragrance industry. This is also why these French type perfumes are not considered "clean" any longer, as they used to, because the formulae for soaps and shower gels have heavily leaned towards "clean musks" and fruits in the last 20-25 years).

Today perfumes of this type smell "perfumy", i.e. "smelling like perfume", because this kind of formula is rare. People smelling a floral aldehydic or an aldehydic chypre fragrance invariably describe it in those terms; they also typify them as "dated/old fashioned" (general population), retro/old-school (fumeheads) or even "old lady scents" (people with no imagination and stuck up associations). In the general population smelling like perfume is a negative connotation on the whole due to the popularisation of the "not trying too hard" casual lifestyle image persisting. Even super synthetic accords devised for todays' market "fruit salads" (no fruit note is natural in perfumery, as fruits cannot be extracted) and fruitchoulis (such as Miss Dior Chérie or Angel and its progeny) are considered "natural-smelling" because they have been marketed as such. Additionaly, these scents have a mimicking methodology, whereupon they copy a natural smell via synthetic means, whereas the older "modern types" didn't copy a specific object but instead purposefully aimed for abstraction.

It's highly ironic that "the modern type" of as little far back as the 1970s has become the outdated type of the 2010s. But that's perfume fashions and perfumery terminology for you...

Pic of Audrey Hepburn smoking (and hugging Dean Martin). She was actually British with Dutch roots. I think I got it via Blogdorf Goodman's tweets, can't recall exactly.