DSH Parfums de Beaux Arts -Passport a Paris (from Passport to Paris Collection): fragrance review

The Passport to Paris Collection is a trio of perfumes exploring the fin de siècle (that is, the 19th century's prolonged swan song) which perfumer and painter Dawn Spencer Hurwitz produced in collaboration with the Denver Art Museum celebrating La Belle Epoque. Passport à Paris, primus inter pares, is Dawn's homage to the growling fougères of the late 19th century, namely Guerlain's Jicky and Houbigant's Fougère Royale; in a way closer to the real thing than one would expect, especially since the slimming regime the former has gone through via the rationing of civet. Indeed experiencing  Passport à Paris I'm left with the agonizing realization that this is the kind of perfumery we have been lamenting for lost, only we haven't quite understood that its salvation can only come through artisanship and a rebellious spirit coming not from the Old World, but from the New one.

Fittingly, the fragrance was inspired by a famous painting from the late 19th century, the eerily alienating, ennui filled Beach at Tourville by Claude Monet. In it a world of repressions the simple beachside pleasures are encapsulated with a silent tension (a sort of oil painting rendition of Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence), faces like a smear of paint, an impressionistic image of boredom or unfulfilled desires. In a way the perfume genre that got invented with the thrashing of the powerful new synthetics is a rebellious antithesis to that same ennui.

I'm not in the habit of oooh-ing and aaah-ing as I walk about the rooms in my home, but to my amazement I found myself doing just that (to the incredulous gaze of my significant other) as I had sprayed my wrists and neck with Dawn's magnificent animalic perfume Passport à Paris. Lovers of vintage Jicky, please take note. This is good stuff. This is amazing stuff. No hyperbole. A bit more lemony, citrusy up top maybe than the Guerlain classic, especially in the modern form, but soon opening to a gorgeous meowling heart of lavender, dark jasmine and rich civet paste, smooth, hay-like and plush thanks to the conspiracy of vanillin and coumarin, an orientalized unisex more than just a masculine trope reminiscent of shaving cream (if that's your idea of fougère, that's not it by a mile).
Passport à Paris is also tremendously lasting on the skin and, really, just beautiful.

I'm of the belief that too many words cheapen the experience of savoring a sensual pleasure for yourself; a bit of "analysis-paralysis", if you will. So I'm leaving you with one directive and one directive only: try it. Like, right now!


Notes for Parfums de Beaux Arts Passport à Paris:
Lemon, bergamot, French lavender, rosewood, mandarin, grandiflorum jasmine, Bulgarian rose, orris root CO2, Clover, Australian sandalwood, amber, vanillin, coumarin, ambergris, East Indian patchouli, civet

Available in the DSH e-boutique (samples start at just 5$)

In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the perfumer. 

A Piece of Fresh Air from the French Countryside: Air de Montquc

Scented marketing reaches new heights and the inventiveness of a young Frenchman crashes the meters of ingenuity. Are you having writer's block, a lack of creativity in your everyday life, an obstacle in the flow of the elixir vitae in your system? Don't worry, fresh air (but not just ANY fresh air, mind you) will take care of all those ailments. How would you like to literally buy the fresh air of the French countryside? Without putting a foot on French soil, that is? It's all possible, now. Someone has bottled the air of their small town and sells it by the quarter of a liter!

That someone is called Antoine and is a student of Communications who has lived in Montcuq for 7 years. He recounts his story on this link.
Montcuq is a small town in a region of France close to the Iberian peninsula, close to the Pyrenees. But the product doesn't make concessions: since it's air (well…) it has to be "consumed" all at once and you are not supposed to leave the box open, lest it evaporates too soon! The dedicated site is as bold as to claim "in order not to evacuate Montcuq of its fresh air, we limit our harvest at 10 litres of air per week". (Epic!)

The Facebook page has already amassed so many Likes that "the inventor" is promising a surprise when they reach 2000 Likes, proving that in the age of technology it suffices to ripple the pond for the ripples to reach unexpected lengths or that people have an astounding sense of humor (or desperation, take it how you will).

So for the advantageous price of 5€ you can now own 250ml of fresh Montcuq air! Or if you want the more "luxurious" Gold Edition (albeit only in packaging, as the air is…funnily enough…the same) for 12€! By the time I got to actually write this post the limited edition of 50 boxes of the Gold Edition are gone, which makes me laugh uncontrollably. Ain't life grand!

The "product" is shipped to the European Union, Switzerland, USA and Canada and anyone else can email to ask for specifics.

The box bears the distinctive disclaimer "Mise en boite a Montcuq" as if to guarantee its authenticity. Its' now literally possible to buy "hot air". To revert the famous line from Asterix "Ils sont fous ces Gaulois".

What's next? To get inspired by the pun-y name of the village itself, L'Air de Mon Cul, freshly gathered from my toilet. I bet there will be a few people actually buying it. Now, let me think of a business model…

Optical Scentsibilities: the Kiss by the Piano or The History of the Tabu Vintage Perfume Ads

Who hasn't been swept by the passion of the old Tabu by Dana perfume advertisements showing a female pianist passionately embraced and kissed by a male violinist? "Tabu, the forbidden fragrance" ("un parfum de puta", as per the fragrance brief to perfumer Jean Carles, no less) recounted to the reader that "Things  don't happen the way they used to. But they still happen." Kinda Fabbio-jacket cover dreamy, eh? In fact more artistic than initially thought of, so a great subject for our Optical Scentsibilities feature exploring the connection between art history & perfume images.

Tabu the fragrance, coming out in 1932, isn't that far removed from the painting that actually inspired the iconography of this advertisement, which is The Kreutzer Sonata painting by René François Xavier Prinet in 1901. (Itself inspired by the homonymous Leo Tolstoy novella which dramatizes a husband's jealous rage over a wife's "animal excesses" and making a case for sexual abstinence, the literary artwork itself referencing Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata, originally dedicated to the violinist George Bridgetower who by insulting the morals of a woman in Beethoven's admired list lost the dedication to his peer, Kreutzer. Talk about meta-galore and war of the sexes on this one!)

via wikipedia commons

The specific advertisement depicted on the top is only one generation ahead of the original perfume launch (please note all the ancillary products mentioned at the bottom, such as soap, dusting powder and lipstick the Tabu brand has under its belt), but boy, how had mores changed in the interim!

Tabu continued on the path of the "painting like" advertisements and has a pleiad of vintage perfume ads (as shown on a dedicated blog from 2009). Among my favorites is this one, showing a woman in front of the iconic painting, cleverly referenced in the background, reading "When Tabu becomes a part of you, you become apart from all others". (ain't that the truth!)

Finally Tabu reprised the violinist with a nude male model posing for a 1990s fashions-clad woman painter (what a genius meta-meta-comment on Dana's part!)

The transcription of the values and tropes of oil paintings into perfume advertising in particular is stunning, straddling the contradictory notions of wealth and spirituality. Using the work of art as a quote acts as a potent sign of cultural authority; in a way it confirms the wisdom and appraisal ability of the viewer and acts as a reminder of being a cultured European (or a cultured partaker of the European values of aesthetics, at the very least)

This post today brings me nicely to the observation that I had made in a previous installement of the Optical Scentsibilities articles exploring the ties of perfume advertising and art history that sometimes the image you see is not only "inspired" by a painting/iconic photo (such as "Las Meninas" did for Paco Rabanne pour Homme or the Madame de Pompadour painting by Francois bouchet did for countless "reclining" poses in recent perfume ads) but it accurately reproduces the art work down to the smallest detail, as was the case with The Divers (utilized by Guy Laroche for Horizon). or Watteau's "The Swing" reprised in 1999 by Estee Lauder for Pleasures perfume featuring their model at the time Liz Hurley.

via ebay

via wikimedia commons

A timely reminder that perfume imagery isn't as frivolous and low-brow as initially thought of.

Hermes To Change Guard: Jean Claude Ellena Welcomes Christine Nagel to Join Him at Parfums Hermes

Hermès officially announces something that was in the works for a little while: the arrival of a sidekick perfumer to help Hermès home perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena. That perfumer to come is none other than Christine Nagel, formerly Vice President at the Fine Fragrance Department of Mane aroma production company. Her new role at Hermès will involve developing new projects, alongside Jean Claude Ellena and she will continue to assume the creation and affirmation of the olfactive style of Hermès, starting March 2014.

It doesn't take much to realize that ~as we had suspected~ Jean-Claude, much like Jacques Polge before him, only just recently, is smoothing the way to a seamless transition that will find Christine Nagel his successor at the head of perfume creation chez Hermès. Usually this is a process that requires at least a couple of years, typically around three, which brings on nicely the solitary tenure of Jean-Claude to a solid 10 years, taking into consideration he started his unique course at Hermès back in 2004.

Catherine Fulconis, President of Hermès Parfums relays to us: "With the arrival of Jean Claude Ellena in 2004, Hermès opened uncharted territories. Ten years later we enrich our story with a beautiful new encounter. We share with Pierre-Alexis Dumas, artistic director at Hermès  the conviction that Christine Nagel will know how to put her personality and her talent at the service of authoring new pages in our opus at Hermes."

According to Nagel, "A composer is an interpreter who masters a technique, a kind of a sponge that can soak up the universe around. Whether that is a designer, a jeweler, an artist…"
Jean Claude himself reveals "The choice of Christine is an obvious one. The time that opens up is one of sharing, of freedom and of differentiating."

Jean Claude Ellena himself isn't hiding the fact that at least as far back as 2003 he had been favoring Christine Nagel as a talent to watch out for (let's remember her trilogy for Baccarat, Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes, Un Certain été en Livadia, Une Nuit Etoilée au Bengale, alongside Eau de Cartier, Histoire d'Eau for Maboussin, Theorema for Fendi, 2000 et Une Rose for Lancome, Miss Dior Cherie, Lyra for Alain Delon, Spazio by Krizia, Memoire d'Homme by Ricci, the Guerlain Carnal Elixirs, co-creating Narciso for Her and recently her work for Armani Si, plus she is the recipient of numerous awards). Neither French (nor Grasseoise), born in Geneva by a Swiss father and an Italian mother, Nagel had been Jean Claude's protégée for some time. In an industry that still works in terms of family ties, the apprenticeship angle is a more honest and direct one.

Bonne chance à vous, madame Nagel!

Respecting a Perfume vs. Actually Wearing It

The other day in the Underrated Perfume Day feature I tackled a fragrance that surprised and continues to surprise me: the original Coco perfume. In my fragrance review of Coco by Chanel I elaborated on how in all my years as a perfumista (and that's all my life, actually) I had never seen a bottle on anyone's shelf, though I know that it's often mentioned in awe online and it's spoken of in revered tones; plus it's still being sold, so someone's got to be buying it, by market law.
In the same post I also recounted a perfume mystery: how such a well-liked (by the sounds of it) fragrance had failed to elicit enthusiastic swap takers when I had presented a big bottle of extrait de parfum for the taking a handful of years ago (I had to beg to get it off my hands). The response I got (which can be read in the comments) was intriguing to say the least.

via Pinterest

Out of the woods there leaped commenters who said that "yes, I do like Coco" and some of them even admitted to wearing the stuff! Incredible! Where had I been all this time? In a sea of YSL Opium, I suppose, but still…

One of my readers posted an interesting tidibit: in Germany Coco far surpasses the sales of No.19 by Chanel, and another specified that Coco is never to be worn in summer, nor in casual situations, never in the office etc. This got me thinking that ~bearing in mind that in Greece Chanel No.19 far surpasses the sales of Coco~ we're dealing right enough with a cultural chasm and a weather continuum as well. It's all too natural that a warm, dense, caressing oriental perfume is doing well in a country that is snowed up half the year and a coolish chypre fragrance with dry, starchy iris is doing well in a country that is enjoying temperatures of over 25C half year long and is sunny even in the coldest of days. It makes sense, you know?

But it also impressed me that many readers mentioned how their appreciation has waned a bit compared to the 1980s and 1990s simply because they're now immersed in a sort of perfume obsession that distracts them too much with too many samples, too many niche releases etc. The market has also seen the fragrance launches multiply like Gremlins in a pond in recent years. That's also kind of a natural conclusion.

My thoughts grazed another path as well. There are some noli me tangere perfumes, perfumes that are aspirational and require a better self to approach them, someone leaner, richer, smarter, what-the-fuck-er   in order for us to claim them and graft them unto ourselves. Coco isn't too haughty, but some others are (are you saving your Amouages and By Kilians for special occasions when dressed up to the nines? I feel your pain).  I used to think like that from time to time, "saving" myself for specific perfumes, deeming them too important to trivialize with the mundane and the everyday. I don't do that as much nowadays. I think it has to do with my "to hell with it" attitude which has matured over the past couple of years due to mundane and everyday reasons, ironically enough.

So, what gives? In a society that we're never good enough for so many things, is perfume itself becoming the yardstick against which we measure our shortcomings? And is admiration that never gets materialized into reality an exercise of borborygmi answered with Lean Cuisine?
I'm throwing a thought to the wind and hoping someone catches it.

Do come out off the galley and confess in the comments: Are there perfumes that you feel you admire or respect but don't wear as often as you'd like to? Which are they? And why do you believe this happens?