The melancholic timbre of Billie Holiday's voice, the "black voice" behind the inspiration for Serge Lutens's latest Paris-exclusive perfume, is reverberating through the unusual paths of the fumes rising from the bell-jar bottle with its beautiful brownish, maroon almost, shade of juice inside. The waxy, thick petals of gardenia with their irresistible browning that is poised between sweet rot and carnal abandon have a way of capturing hearts like mine...and Billie's too, who wore one tucked beneath her ear as a trademark. But to designate just gardenia to Une Voix Noire would be doing it a disservice.
Guy Bourdin photo via thinmoonsugar.blogspot.com
Gardenia and tuberose are olfactory allies in crime. Both nocturnal creatures with creamy white blossoms which exude a kaleidoscope of weird and wondrous facets, from sharp greenness that recalls camphor, to blue cheese and mould, all the way to meat rotting in the heat to help attract various pollinators, they're fascinating flowers to cultivate in a warm climate that oozes with the dangerous atmosphere of a film noir. Lutens and his trusty perfumer Chris Sheldrake have been no strangers to tuberose's wiles thanks to Tubereuse Criminelle with its jarring contrast of rough edge against smooth silk. But Une voix Noire is to gardenia a new take on the flower, less simplistic and more complex, with an abstract background that brings it closer to a Bois variation than a fleshy, photorealistic photo of the opulent flower with its blue cheese timbre that Tom Ford put in the forefront for his (now discontinued) Velvet Gardeniaor the spring-like styralyl acetate greenness it exhibits in Lauder's life-like, budding Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia. The candied plumminess of the cedar & fruits base is certainly progeny of the Feminite du Bois school of mock dilettantes (posing as less serious than in reality) and the rich, satisfying, warmly honeyed core to be explored on further wearings would be most pleasurably received by those who have enjoyed Mary Greenwell's Plum, Botytris, Jar's Jardenia and -naturally- the rest of the Lutensian series of "woody" cedar & fruits melange fragrances.
The perfumer and the art director play in chiaroscuro with extreme grace in Une voix Noire, bringing on an opening tuberose-gardenia note that is fresh and real but dissipates fast into clean and metallic notes that ring like cold air in the stillness of the night. Smoky and indolic, almost animalic facets slowly reveal themselves, darkening the proceedings through a sweetish, leathery, tobacco and boozy (rum, according to the official notes) phase which creates an effect worthy of a blues singer velvety sighing her pain into hard vinyl.
Like Billie's voice, Une Voix Noire is indelible...lasting a lifetime and then some.
Une Voix Noire is a Paris-exclusive Lutens fragrance available as Eau de Parfum 75ml in the bell jar bottles.
For our readers, a generous decant of the new Une Voix Noire is available. Draw is open internationally till Friday 28th midnight. Just answer in the comments what "a black voice" conjures up for you to be eligible. Draw is now closed, thank you!
The Robert Piguet company is compelled to revise the formulation of one of their beloved classics by perfumer Germaine Cellier, the bracing ‘Bandit’ perfume due to compliance with the latest regulations on allergens/irritants in the fragrance industry.
According to Basenotes: The current formulation was praised by Luca Turin and Tanya Sanchez in their perfume guide, but with changing regulation the company says it needs to address the issue: “The IFRA regulations on oakmoss make things so difficult for that perfume” says [Joe] Garces [CEO of Fashion Fragrances & Cosmetics] “If you keep changing and keep tweaking things you could end up with a different thing. I don’t want to spoil it so I’ve asked [perfumer] Aurelian [Guichard] to look at the whole thing again, to go back to the very original formula and take it from there.”
Given Guichard's delicate impressionist hand as opposed to the brutal fauvism of Cellier, could this pose a risk on effacing the sharp character of Bandit? Remains to be seen. Let's be hopeful and hope that we can sample for ourselves soon.
Niche fragrance brand Odin New York is introducing a new perfume with a play on Sri Lanka and its vetiver harvests. 08 Seylon is a vision of vetiver accompanied by notes than enhance its unique character.
According to the blurb:
"The creation of 08 Seylon communicates a new understanding of vetiver through a calming blend of rich, earthy aromas. During the initial stages of development it was essential that the fragrance represent actual vetiver, extracted from the root. With this in mind, not only is the finished concept an authentic interpretation, it also reflects perfumer, Phillipe Romano’s idea that imposing structures such as orientals, woods, spices with exotic shades should transport you far away."
Two more articles belonging to the polemic on scent. Actually inferring a good point all the same, that having everything scented around us is contributing to a major sensory overload that means increased exposure to potential irritants and allergens. Too bad they're throwing the baby out with the bathwater too!
Plus there goes again the common misconception: allergy is actually an auto-immune response and a medical fact, oversensitivity to stimuli/sensory overload/sensitivity to scents is something different (though totally real, mind you).
The first heavy drops of rain fell on the thirsty ground yesterday after a hot, hot summer that scorched our conscience. It seemed like release, like tears falling after a gigantic pressure mounting inside that had overflown, ready to burst.
"With the first drop of rain the summer was killed. Soaked were the words which starlight had born. Words that were meant just for you." writes Odysseas Elytis.
This sweet melancholy of autumn is inextricably tied to the pit pat of the raindrops on the window pane, much as it sounds corny. Like many, I adore the ambience after the rain; when everything seems washed, purged, the green leaves and flowers shiny fresh with droplets hanging onto them refracted into myriads of rainbows in the emerging light; with the distinct smell of the earth that has soaked the water and brought out a scent at once musty and refreshing, a scent that is ancient and at the same time of the moment, galvanizing, a scent of the divine and the pagan. But what makes that delicious scent, popular enough to be first unapologetically encapsulated into a fragrance to sell by Christopher Brosius in his Fragrance Library for Demeter by the eerie name "Dirt"?
The answer is more enjoyably lyrical.
via http://lifeofpri.blogspot.com
Petrichor is the name of the scent of rain on dry earth, which aided by the compound geosmin contributes to that delectable ambience of upturned earth and musty deliciousness which walkers of the woods have been known to enjoy with all their might. Due to poetic justice, I suppose, and because everything is paid upon at the cashier eventually in this world, both words have a Greek origin: "Petrichor" literally means the fluid in the veins of the gods hitting stone (from the words πέτρα i.e. stone and ιχώρ i.e. the mythical lifeblood of the Gods). "Geosmin" is simpler, more to the point: from the Greek word for earth, γαία (deriv. γεο-) and οσμήν i.e. smell; simply put, "the smell of the earth".
The term "petrichor" was coined in 1964 by two Australian researchers, Bear and Thomas, for an article in the scientific journal Nature. In their article, it is argued that certain plants exude an oil during dry periods which is then absorbed by clay-based soils and by rock. The hitting of the ground during the rain releases this oil alongside geosmin, a germacranoid sesquiterpene or a trans-1,10-dimethyl-trans-9-decalol for the more chemically minded ~or simply a by-product of microorganisms, which acts as a metabolite.
Geosmin is produced by a number of microorganisms amongst which the mycelial soil bacteria Streptomyces. Geosmin is exactly that distinct smell that soil gives off when disturbed or just rained upon and its human detection threshold is so low (allowing almost all to savor it) and so pleasant, it is used to confer an earthy scent to perfumes! But careful: in flavor, by contrast, geosmin can turn a glass of water or wine (or fruits or vegetables) musty and unpleasant for consumption.
Even lightning contributes to the scent of the earth after the rain nevertheless; the presence of ozone is electrifying, producing that energetic, come what may, putting on boots and clutching a cane walk in the woods mood one doesn't know they had in them until it actually happens. This is the magic turn of the screw that makes fragrances such as Creed's classic Green Irish Tweed (with the infinitely matching name to this fervent desire) and the quirky enchanted forest of Ormonde Woman work so well.
It's interesting to note that geosmin doesn't just contribute to the smelly landscape but could be a way of promoting sporulation as it occurs where humidity is involved. "Camels may well smell out an oasis by sniffing the air for traces of the fragrant metabolite. While camels quench their thirst, hordes of Streptomyces spores will be supped with the water or will find a way to stick onto the animals’ hides. In this way, spores can be carried for miles. In the same way, some cacti flowers may also use the geosmin scent to fool insects, in a sort of fragrant mimicry. Indeed, insects are attracted to the plants in the hope of a little refreshment, and in their quest for water, they actually serve as pollinators!"[source]
As with everything involving smell, there's more than meets the nose...
Music clip "With the First Drop of the Rain", lyrics by Greek nobelist poet Odysseas Elytis, set to music by Manos Hadjidakis and sung by Dimitris Psarianos.
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