Angelique Noire by Guerlain: fragrance review

The inconcistency between name and scent is probably an intended characteristic of the boutique exclusive L'Art et la Matière line by Guerlain, as discussed before in the Cruel Gardénia (a scent that smells nothing like gardenias really) and Rose Barbare reviews, because Angélique Noire (Black Angelica) is certainly not noire, at least not in the manner of which we have been thinking of, courtesy of the Golden era of Hollywood. The grotesque look of Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard that simply screamed for its daily dose of Caron’s sumptuous Narcisse Noir as a talisman against mediocrity and decline is nowhere to be found.

There is a historic factoid that might be a piquant reference: A black slave by the apt name Marie Joseph Angélique was a personage in the history of Montreal, accused of being the incendiary of the 1734 episodes; someone suited to the scent of Angelique Noire? Far from such upheaval and restlessness or the promise of fallen angels, here we are dealing with a pre-Raphaelite Madonna with curly hair and silky robes that is lost in mystical reverie over the impending Nativity or a post-romantic painting by Waterhouse; carte-postale style in both cases: somehow too pretty for a truly striking effect!

Created by nose Daniela Roche-Andrier in 2005 for the renovation of the flagship store at 68, Avenue Champs Elysées, the Guerlain brief for Angélique Noire went something like this: "A composition based on angelica, weed known to be an elixir promoting longetivity. The bergamot and angelica notes are fresh, vibrant and slightly bitter. They contrast with the sophisticated fullness of the vanilla”.
The core of the perfume is undoubtedly the pairing of bergamot and vanilla which in Guerlain terms would translate as musky, troubling Shalimar, surely. Or Shalimar Eau Légère/Shalimar Light, modern-style, even! But this is a Guerlain through non-Guerlain eyes, ergo the treatment is completely different. Angélique Noire is a sweet oeuvre of pleasant and cherubic notes, full of the tart juice of bergamot and toiling harvesters eager to gather crops as it opens with the tangy and difficult to obtain angelica, garlanded with a spicy touch enough to intrigue; this phase is quite suited to both sexes in fact. Later it cedes to a soft heart of milky-almondy haziness and drying down to ever persistent, creamy vanilla.
Angélique Noire is not especially reminiscent of any of the Loukhoum scents (Serge Lutens, Keiko Mecheri) that feature some of the same notes nevertheless, nor is it laced with aromatic nuances as one would except from a fragrance named and inspired by angelica. Guerlain has based its reputation on the quality of its vanilla and it always features in one way or another in their perfumes, usually along with tonka bean. This is no exception. I don’t know if angelica is supposed to prolong life in humans really, and how that could be a good thing in a world that despises old age, but the fragrance lasts very well (which is a blessing or a curse depending on what you think of it).

Notes for Angélique Noire by Guerlain:
Angelica, bergamot, vanilla


Angélique Noire forms part of the L'Art et la Matière line sold exclusively at boutiques Guerlain and the Guerlain espace at Begdrof Goodman, in tall architectural bottles with the name on the side in a wide golden "band" and an optional bulb atomiser included (My advice on those is not to leave them attached on the bottle as they allow evaporation of the juice).

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: the Guerlain series, Fragrances with angelica.

Pic of fallen angel sent to me by mail unaccredited. Pic of bottles via Guerlain.

Cuir Beluga by Guerlain: fragrance review

"Beluga" in most people’s minds is tied to caviar associations, the richest and costliest variety actually, yet not the one on top of every gourmet’s list who often go for Sevruga with its more delicate, less fatty taste and smaller dark beads.
I was therefore surprised to find out that apart from Guerlain's exclusive fragrance Cuir Béluga , the name also refers to a species of small whale (Delphinapterus leucas) that is almost white in colour and completely endearing to watch. Beluga after all is white in Russian! The full name of course hints at some terrible cruelty that would have Brigitte Bardot up in arms, and justifiably so.
However no whale hide is necessary for the production of this scent and there is no other leather smell discernible to me or anyone else either. The chemical ingredient isobutyl quinoline that is most often used to render such a note is hard to miss, due to its bombastic character that has the ability to obliterate other scents. Even in Shalimar, the quinolines are there, under the plush. Thus, Cuir Béluga resembles a trompe l’oeil, the artistic effect of visually hinting at something that isn’t actually there; or even the manner of painter Magritte and his way of making us think in a completely different way than usual.

Created by Olivier Polge, son of famous Chanel nose Jacques Polge, the man who created such commercially successful numbers as Coco Mademoiselle and Allure, it promised the innovation and dare of a person who is young and willing to take a risk; the stance of someone who has artistic freedom to do as he pleases. However, regarding Cuir Béluga a risk it certainly does not take.
The Guerlain brief says about it: "A fragrance suggesting the absolute, contemporary luxury of leather. An initial burst of aldehydic mandarin orange, strengthened by everlasting flowers/immortelle contributes a luminosity all its own, then merges into deeper, sophisticated notes of leather, amber, heliotrope and vanilla".
The immortelle note, often compared to fenugreek, is nowhere near the omnipresence found in Annick Goutal’s Sables , the intense Middle Estern reference of El Attarine or even in the much tamer L de Lolita Lempicka. The hard, craggy Mediterranean beach cannot survive in the pedigreed salons of Paris, that’s understood. But neither is amber particularly present, never managing to make a full appearance on the dry down phase, making the composition somewhat linear.

Starting and finishing with a lullaby of soft suede-soft vanilla, with elements of slight bittersweet taste that is the heliotrope note echoing the minimalist composition of Eau d’hiver by Frederic Malle or Etro’s Heliotrope (but less sweet), it resembles the classic Hans Christian Andersen tale of the girl who sold matches: she glimpses the warmth of the rich house with the garlanded Christmas tree and the table full of delicacies, but it’s only behind the cold pane of glass. Never in my life have I smelled such an aloof vanilla. Although it has a very pleasant effect and is undoubtedly a delectable smell that would never become suffocating and heavy like many vanillic perfumes inadvertently do, it somehow cannot justify the cachet of exclusivity when it could just as easily sit on the shelf of a less exclusive store making gigantic sales by its lovely inoffensiveness. Wish it were widely available!

Notes for Cuir Beluga by Guerlain:
immortelle (everlasting flower), leather, amber, vanilla, mandarin, heliotrope

Cuir Béluga forms part of the L'Art et la Matière line sold exclusively at boutiques Guerlain and the Guerlain espace at Begdrof Goodman, in tall architectural bottles with the name on the side in a wide golden "band" and an optional bulb atomiser included (My advice on those is not to leave them attached on the bottle as they allow evaporation of the juice).

Related reading on Perfumeshrine: the Guerlain series, the Leather Series

Painting A couple by Fernando Botero via art.com. Pic of Beluga whale via wikimedia. Pic of bottles via Guerlain.

Erik Kormann Eau de Froehliche: fragrance review

It was just the other day when we were discussing the merits of a vanilla laced with other ingredients to cut down on the sweetness, the stickiness and all around juvenile factor. Today I'm happy to review a scent that pairs incense with vanilla and balsams, materials which bring out a wonderful oriental "gourmand" character that is mouthwatering, yet not cloying at all: Eau de Fröhliche by Erik Kormann of 1000 & 1 Siefe.

If you haven't heard of the artisan behind it, we need to reproach you. We had covered his delightful citrusy August cologne some seasons back. His newest niche creation is an incense water inspired by the old German carol O Du Fröhliche, translating as "Oh how Joyfully"! You might be thinking by now how can an incense be joyful and not mysterious or moody (one look at the vial is enough to answer that) and how can an oriental featuring vanilla no less be fit for the transitioning of the seasons we're experiencing. And yet! Fear not: Like Erik's previous cologne, this Eau de Parfum is long lasting but behaves extremely well.

The fragrance takes on a very individual take on incense (forget the CDG Incense Series and other scents featured in our Incense Series here) , as it invests it with materials which are pliable, soft, enveloping, lending it their inherent joy and warmth like hot breath on a cool, misty window pane:
Tolu balsam, tonka beans full of coumarin and vanilla absolute create a creamy aspect, while the cocoa nuance of iris finds its perfect partner in crime in chocolate-faceted natural patchouli with its inviting, sweet and alluring smell. Other notes include rosewood and cardamom as accent pieces. The incense thus smiles like the brass of an orchestra playing classically-rounded tunes in a wood-panelled auditorium where nothing could ever go wrong.

If winter is still bothering you and you need a little comfort, clothed in a cuddly, embracing composition, Eau de Fröhliche can't but address that need. Available in Eau de Parfum from Erik's 1000&1 Seife or via mail.

For those reading German, take a look at Erik's blog post about his options.
You can contact Erik for availability/details at his E-Mail: kontakt@aromatisches-blog.de



In the interests of disclosure I was sent a sample by the perfumer himself. Pics of vial and sketch via http://perfume.twoday.net/ and aromatiches.blog.de

Frequent Questions: Differences Between the Hermes Merveilles Perfume Editions, Flankers & Limited Editions (With Photos)

Among perfumes with several confusing similarly-named editions there are a few. You can check PerfumeShrine's previous entries on the different flankers/perfume editions of Dior Poisons, the many flankers/limited editions of Dior best-seller J'Adore, the various reformulations/repackaging of Miss Dior Cherie, the super confusing group of fragrance editions by Rodriguez Narciso For Her with their differences highlighted, the Etro Via Verri original and reformulated editions, the Shiseido Zen perfume editions ...and there's surely going to be more!
Today I'm going to offer an illustrated guide to sort out the confusion attested regarding one fragrance among those with a dedicated cult following: Eau de Merveilles and its by now many flankers and limited editions issued by the venerable house of Hermès.

Timeline, Info and Notes for Different Hermès "Merveilles" Fragrance Editions with pics: 

Eau de Merveilles (2004) 
Pefumers: Ralf Schwieger and Nathalie Feisthauer
Eau de Toilette concentration
Notes: ambergris, pink pepper, violet, fir, oakmoss, orange, lemon, cedar, elemi, Madagascar vetiver

The main theme of this truly original fragrance, this "water of wonders", and the reason it's a deserved cult is the orange-shaded ambergris salty impression of skin, resolutely non-floral for a marketed to women fragrance (although perfectly unisex in all practical purposes!) and "natural" smelling in its overall impression, negating the notion that the person wearing it is wearing a perfume.
Technically speaking the intriguing thing is Eau de Merveilles collapses the traditional pyramidal structure entirely, as all the woody-musky notes are on top, rather than the base of the fragrance, getting the ambergris note upfront in large print.

Parfum des Merveilles  (2005)
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Extrait de Parfum concentration
Notes: Oak, patchouli, mosses, amber, Peru balsam, tears of Siam, Davaba, Cognac note, leaves, roots
A concentrated composition with more intense resinous ingredients which Jean Claude Ellena worked on while the original was selling its first bottles.

Parfum des Merveilles (2006)
Limited edition of the Parfum des Merveilles of 2005 extrait de parfum in Saint-Louis blue crystal (same juice)
Extrait de Parfum concentration

Elixir des Merveilles (2006) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration
Notes: Peru balsam, vanilla sugar, amber, sandalwood, tonka bean, patchouli, siam resin, caramel, oak, incense, orange peel and cedar.

Hermes Elixir des Merveilles is a quite different formula rather than just an EDP concentration of the original Eau de Merveilles, focusing on more resinous chypre elements highlighted rather than the ambergris woody notes of the EDT version. It is succulent, warmer and less salty than the original and relatively tenacious. 

Eau de Merveilles Constellation (2006) 
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottles features an etched illustration of the classic chariot of the house under a star constellation.

Eau de Merveilles Pegase (2007)
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features an illustration of the flying horse Pegasus from the Greek mythology.

Eau Claire des Merveilles (autumn 2010) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration

This new interpretation of the "magical water" boasts  airy notes alongside the sophisticated woody notes and warm ambergris of the original. It incorporates powdery soft vanilla, airy notes and for the first time a few abstract floral notes to give a luminous character. The overall impression of Eau Claire des Merveilles is of a musky vanilla scent with softly powdery ambience. 

Eau de Merveilles Au Bal des Etoiles (February 2012) [i.e. Ball of the Stars]
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features a "dragonfly fairy" design by illustrator Alice Charbin.

L'Ambre des Merveilles (summer 2012)

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena

Eau de Parfum concentration

Notes: amber, labdanum, patchouli and vanilla.

The emphasis on L'Ambre des Merveilles is on the classical ingredient used to render an "amber" base blend: labdanum with all its leathery-sweet-intimate aspects in place. 

All the bottles in the Hermes Merveilles series routinely come in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz sizes, with the occasional 15ml/0.5oz travel size issued (same as the Hermessences coffret shape and size) except for the parfum and limited edition bottles, of course.

pics via fragrantica.com and basenotes.net

Definition: Resinous & Balsamic Fragrances

One of the most elusive terms in fragrance terminology appears to be -according to readers' comments- "resinous" and "balsamic", as relating to perfumes. The raw materials falling under the umbrella of resins and balsams are among the most ancient components of perfumes, often the basis of the Oriental family of scents and lending their soothing opulence and depth to other families, such as the Chypres. They make their appearence known in any category though: florals, fougères, hesperidics also benefit from a touch here and there.

The distinction between resin and balsam is one of form, on a fundamental level: Simply put and generalising, resinous materials come in the form of solidified, gum-like "tears" seeping from the elixir vitae circulating into the bark of big trees, such as the Boswellia Carteri (which produces frankincense). Balsams on the other hand are trickly materials, not necessarily tree secretions, often coming as they do from flower pods or bushy twigs (such as vanilla orchids or the Mediterranean rockrose). But there are exceptions to every rule: Opopanax, though resinous smelling itself, actually comes from a herb, opopanax chironium.
So the real focus when referencing balsamic and resinous terminology is how the materials actually smell and how they're different or common in scent, rather than what their origin is. 
Therefore, for ease, resinous & balsamic materials are classified into 3 distinct olfactory profiles according to their aromatic properties first and foremost.

Soft balsamic smelling ingredients include:

• vanilla (from the vanilla orchid, the rich pod having a more complex rum-like note than the popular synthetic ethyl vanillin)

• benzoin gum (from Styrax Tonkiniensis with a sweetish, caramel and vanillic facet; benzoin Siam or benzoin Sumatra are used in perfumery)

• Peru balsam (coming from the Myroxylon, ~literally "fragrant wood" in Greek~ or Quina/Balsamo, a different species of which also produces Tolu balsam)

• Tolu balsam (close to Peru balsam, but a little sweeter and fresher)

• cistus labdanum (leathery, ambery, deep, coming from the rockrose bush and traditionally harvested from the hairs of goats who had grazed on the rockrose).

These materials have a gentle tone, while at the same time they're softly enveloping and have a pronounced character. They fix flowers into lasting longer and thanks to their properties when used in large quantities produce the semi-Orientals or the florientals (in conjunction with rich floral essences). 
A great example of a fragrance featuring copious amounts of Tolu balsam is Tolu perfume by Ormonde Jayne. The opulence of the balsamic note mollifies the rest of the composition, giving the golden sheen of a multi-faceted citrine. Tolu also makes floral notes more candied: in Fracas by Piguet it acts on the tuberose, on Gold by Donna Karan it enhances the ambery lily.
Compare and contrast with the balsamic base of Guerlain's Vol de Nuit which features a generous helping of Peru balsam; the oriental accord gives it its opulence under the green top note. In Ambre Sultan by Lutens, Peru balsam pairs with its traditional counterpart, an oriental amber accord. Elixir des Merveilles is another one which features balsam of Peru for its sweetly grounding qualities.

For labdanum, grab Donna Karan Labdanum, L'Air du desert Marocain by Andy Tauer, La Labo Labdanum 18 or Madame X by Ava Luxe: they're full of it.
The purest incarnation of benzoin in non gum form is Papier d'Armenie, the traditional scented little papers in a cute notebook, which burnt produce a clearing, anti-microbial atmosphere to one's home. Short of that, if you don't travel to Europe often, you can get a sample of Bois d'Armenie by Guerlain, or Prada Candy. Benzoin is very versatile spanning the fragrance families from citrus to woods and florals and its heft is therefore used frequently as it complements the other notes beautifully. Chanel's Coromandel fuses the vanilla-cinnamon notes of benzoin with a white chocolate note to render a delicious and sophisticated gourmand fragrance. Both benzoin and Tolu balsam make up the surprisingly monastic backdrop of Bal a Versailles by Jean Desprez, allied to the austerity of cedar.

If you are seeking a lush balsamic composition with multi-nuanced orientalia, seek no further than Mecca Balsam by La via del Profumo; it features labdanum, real oud and franckincense as well, so it's a composite that allows one to see how categories can be combined.

Vanillic fragrances are of course widely understood by everyone, so another article of a different scope, focusing on their merits and faults, is in order.

Resinous balsamic smelling ingredients include:

• opoponax/opopanax (also called "sweet myrrh" ~though no relation~ from the Opopanax chironium herb, scented between lavender & amber)

• frankincense/olibanum (the lemony-top, smoky smelling "tears" of the Boswellia carteri tree, called lubbān in Arabic)

• myrrh gum (a waxy oleoresin with a bitterish profile from the Commiphora myrrha)

• birch tar (from "cooked" birch wood, tar-smelling)

• elemi (a peppery, lemony, pine-like yellow oil coming from the steam-distilled or treated with volatile solvents resin of the Canarium Lizonicum)

• styrax (resin from the Liquidambar Orientalis tree, with a scent reminiscent of glue and cinnamon)

Valued since antiquity, resins have been widely used in incense and perfumery. Highly fragrant and antiseptic resins and resin-containing perfumes have been used by many cultures as medicines for a large variety of ailments. It's no coincidence that the three Magi gave baby Jesus the gifts of Frankincense, Myrrh and Gold. Traditionally used to make incense (King Solomon regarded opoponax as the noblest incense gum), even nowadays in the Middle East and the Mediterranean basin frankincense and myrrh "tears" are the incense par excellence still. These materials are deeper, with a lingering trail which adds originality and projection to a composition. Since they themselves typically come from the bark of trees in the form of crystalised resin "tears", they pair very well with woody scents.

If you want to get a taste of how some of the more "esoteric" of these smell, , say opoponax grab yourself the Diptyque Opopanax scent in either room spray or candle, as well as their Myrrh candle. They provide the scent in isolation. The iconic Shalimar as well as the masculine counterpart Habit Rouge owe their "flou" hazy effect in opoponax allied to orange blossom. For myrrh, Myrrhe Ardente in Les Orientalistes line by Annick Goutal and La Myrrhe by Serge Lutens provide two nuanced and quite different "readings" of the myrrh gum in complex compositions.
Athonite frankincense in the black variety is pure frankincense/olibanum gum (it's pliable when you rub it, like chewing gum), rising in clean, citrusy-smoky ringlets on the air; I burn it on small coal tablets regularly. There are many frankincense fragrances in the niche market, the truer perhaps being Avignon by Comme des Garcons, but the whole Incense Series is to be explored for the truly interested perfume lover.
Tauer's Incense Extrême is a good starting place for frankincense variants, based as it is on the Boswellia serrata (Indian incense) at a 25% concentration.

Birch tar is easily detected in compositions of the Cuir de Russie type (from Chanel Cuir de Russie to Piver's and Guerlain Cuir de Russie). This is also a material that can be classified in the sub-group of phenolic smells. It is pungent and dark.
Elemi is often used in masculine blends to give at the same time cooling piquancy and warmth thanks to its peppery top note: try Gucci by Gucci, notice the top note of L'Instant pour Homme (Guerlain) and the unique Eau de Naphe by Comptoir Sud Pacifique. For styrax, remember that the resin has a leathery facet with incense tonalities (and has been an important supporting player in "Cuir de Russie" compositions, such as Chanel's). Notice it in the drydown of Carven's Ma Griffe, in Poivre 23 by Le Labo and in No.11 Cuir Styrax by Prada. Lutens uses it beautifully in several of his scents, notably in the base note of Tubereuse Criminelle and Cuir Mauresque.

Nota bene that even though fir, pine and copal essences come from coniferous trees themselves,  I am not including them in the resinous and balsamic classification as they're really terpenic-smelling (a perfume definition to be elaborated on in a subsequent article).

There is also a sub-set of powdery balsamic smelling ingredients which do not come in resin or balsam form, therefore they are not classified into this category via origin at all, but rather via their scent profile alone. This includes: orris root (the Iris Pallida rhizome and also the synthetic irones-rich reproductions), several musks of synthetic origin, and carrot seed oil (which can give an orris scent in itself).
Amber mixes (refer to what amber is and its difference from ambergris on this link) can also be powdery balsamic smelling: the inclusion of benzoin (which gives a sweetish, baby talc note) and vanilla in the mix of ingredients in amber is the culprit. In French terminology/classification of orientalised perfumes they're refered to as "parfums ambrés" (even when not entirely focused on amber). For instance Obsession, the original Magie Noire (not the reformulated which is greener, more chypre) or Moschino by Moschino (again the original from 1987) are examples of perfumes "ambrés". It is important NOT to confuse between a balsamic/ambery powdery ambience (which is typically sweeter) and one which is powdery/dry (such as in Aromatics Elixir, Ma Griffe, Flower by Kenzo, DK Cashmere Mist): the two terms though very close are not interchangeable.

In concluding, the necessity of establishing a common language for scent among people who talk about the same perfumes increasingly arises. Even though we commonly use subjective terms to denote our feelings, the proper terminology, in accordance to how perfumers talk among themselves, aids a thorough understanding  and enhances our communicating our impressions on an immediately graspable context. It is this need which we try to address with our articles on Perfume Vocabulary and Definition on PerfumeShrine. If you haven't caught up with our relevant articles, here's what you might have missed:

• Definition: Indolic vs. Non Indolic
• Definition: Lactonic, Creamy, Milky, Butyric
• Definition: Powdery & Dry in Fragrances
• Definition: Soapy in Fragrances
• Definition: Phenolic, Terpenic, Camphoraceous scents
• Definition: Which Material Produces Which Note/Effect?

Photo of resin drops, some rights reserved by flod/flickr, censer pic via St.Dunstan's Priory

Cimabue by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz (Parfums des Beaux Arts): fragrance review

From the effulgent Byzantine mosaics of Ravenna as seen in the warm light of noon to the incadescent Scrovegni Chapel frescoes by Giotto in Padua during the cool silence of a winter afternoon, Italian art is infused with the resplendent light of the South which never fails to draw a beatific expression out of me. That golden light has been captured in a fragrance called Cimabue by independent niche perfumer Dawn Spencer Hurwitz. Cenni di Pepo (Giovanni) Cimabue (c. 1240 — c. 1302) was the artist to bridge the opulence of Byzantium with the insight, knowledge and brilliance of the Renaissance and counted Giotto among his students. Cimabue, the fragrance, is characterised by Dawn as "my Saffron note étude" but it provides a porthole into her greater agilité in various techniques. It's no coincidence that Dawn began her career as a painter progressing to work at Boston's famed ESSENSE Perfumery and imbuing her perfumes with fine art principles (texture, color, line, light, shape, and expression) in her own line, Parfums des Beaux Arts, LLC.

Cimabue (pronounced chim-a-boo-way, according to Dawn) had first come to my attention through a perfume enthusiast and online friend who sent me a sample some time ago. I recall I was favourably impressed and left it at that. But now that the Saffron Series has caught up with me, what better time to revisit and explore the intricasies that weave throughout its composition?
Cimabue materialized out of love: the love of a perfumer to her clients. When a lover of Safran Troublant sent a request to Dawn to make something comparable, Dawn set out to create Cimabue. Yet Cimabue is not a rip off Safran Troublant, but rather a spicier, richer, enigmatic interpretation that spans the spectrum from honeyed floral to bittersweet spicy to luscious oriental much like the colours of those frescoes take on different shades depending on the light cast.

Cimabue begins on complex citrus , immediately flanked by unctuous saffron with the feel of aromatized olive oil for a creamy, starchy Carnaroli risotto. Although there are flowers' essences in the composition, none emerges prominently, instead undulating into layers that are folded in the spice mix. The smell of clove, cardamom and nutmeg slither when Cimabue takes on the skin, then the sandalwood, vanilla and sweet powder combine in a classic milky gourmand drydown that accounts for a very warm and pleasantly sweet ambience with average lasting power.
Cimabue should please spice lovers as well as gourmand lovers and will bring a little warmth in the depths of winter.

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Cimabue notes:
Top: Bergamot, bitter orange, cardamom, clementine, Italian neroli, lemon, nutmeg
Middle: carnation absolute, cinnamon bark, clove bud, Egyptian Rose geranium, Grandiflorum jasmine, honey beeswax, Moroccan rose absolute, Mysore sandalwood, Saffron absolute, Tuberose absolute
Bottom: Ciste absolute, East Indian sandalwood, labdanum, oppopanax, Siam benzoin, Tahitian vanilla, Tamil Nadu sandalwood, vanilla absolute.

Cimabue is part of the more upscale collection Parfums des Beaux Arts (limited editions) and is available in various sizes: 0 .25 oz Eau de Parfum travel spray will set you back $27 while a limited edition flacon of extrait de parfum runs for $135 while a body butter and a foaming creame compliment the experience. Samples and sampler packs are also available on the DSH website.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: the Saffron Series

Painting of Madonna enthroned with the child, St Francis, St.Domenico and two Angels by Cimabue displayed in Galleria Uffici Florence courtesy of Christus Rex

Three Case Studies from 2021 Mapping the Way into 2022: Fragrance Market Cues

 Apart from the pandemic, which made 2021 a very hard year to test out fragrances in physical stores, since testers were removed, there were three significant signposts that pertain to the fragrance market at large and which dictate how 2022 and the coming years will flow. 

 

DIOR & SAUVAGE: Ads and Representation

When the ads for the men's Sauvage Parfum with Johnny Depp first hit the scnreen with images of the wild American countryside, and descendants of Native Americans dancing ritualistically in late 2019, I remember thinking "the only thing worthwhile about this synthetic swirl whichpasses for perfume is its advertisement ”. Being a true harbinger of failure, the ad was harshly hailed as cultural appropriation.

Having no shares in Dior, or in the monstrous behemoth of LVMH to which it belongs, I find that it is one of the few times that the audience proved to be less informed than the house. The counselors of the house had done a thorough research, in order to be completely respectful of the context towards the minorities of the natives. They even named the native people who participated in the project. However, the French connection of sauvage with silk fabrics with a weave anomaly, the most "irreconcilable", was completely lost in the Anglo-Saxon language. Thus in the collective unconscious, as is often the case, the conflation of the name sauvage (= savage) with the depiction of Native Americans, was the strike of death… Advertising was withdrawn in 2020. 

 

Dior exhibited quick reflexes for the main face of the campaign. Johnny Depp's cancellation apropos his trial with his ex wife, Amber Heard, was completed in 2021. And while the lawsuit, which Depp lost, concerned his own lawsuit against the British media for libel, in the public consciousness it was as if every charge against him had been proved. Acting as Pontius Pilate, Dior froze every ad with the old protagonist in 2021. Just 3 weeks ago Dior announced the replacement of the main person in the Sauvage campaigns with the French footballer Kylian Mbappé.

 

How the American public, which is targeted by designer brands, will identify with a person so French and especially with a footballer (a sport that is much less popular in the US than in the rest of the world) is an issue that obviously did not concern them. And the reason is simple. Sauvage sells itself, since its release in 2015, with the intensive promotion that has been given to it so far in stores. In other words, LVMH only cares to be considered politically correct, so as not to risk a second John Galliano controversy… For those who do not remember, Galliano was also (justifiably) fired by Dior when he had an unacceptable anti-Semitic outburst in a Parisian restaurant, which was broadcast extensively.

 

 

Billie Eilish's breasts and the vanilla of her dreams 

 

To say that the American pop singer is the pop phenomenon of the last 2-3 years is an understatement. Billie wrecks havoc on the Net, with her body image disorders, her exposure to porn from the age of 9, her loose clothes that seem to swallow her, and the viral photo shoot for Vogue with corsets. So she released her first perfume , like any self-respecting celebrity. Eilish by Billie Eilish, currently available in the US.

 

 The choice on the one hand of the scent, and on the other hand of the bottle for Eilish, arouses the interest of any student of pop culture. Regarding the actual scent, while one would expect a fragrance as subversive as the image of the young singer - a breath of fresh air in a hyper-sexualized environment that visually projects pop stars as concubines at the very least - is a predictable vanilla. The launch was accompanied by the usual claims that "Billie was dreaming of the vanilla she could not find and decided to make her own". (I swear, I've been hearing this exact tag line ever since Donna Karan introduced her own fashion house at the close of the 1980s-early 1990s). 

 

As for the perfume bottle, it represents a bust of her body, with her breasts overemphasized. The official version claims she personally chose this mold because she is very proud of this segment of her anatomy. Cool I'd say, self-emancipation! Only there's the catch that the company that oversees the perfume project, that is Parlux (who released the perfumes of Paris Hilton among others) probably wanted to compete on an equal footing with the independent brand of the Kardashian sisters, KKW (Kim Kardashian West, from when Kim was still married to Kanye). Said independent company released some very successful commercial perfumes under the KKW umbrella in the last 2-3 years, with bottle-molds made out of the trunk and infamous hips of Kim Kardashian…

 

100 Years of Solitude for Chanel No.5 

 

It sounds like an oxymoron, but it's really not. The most famous perfume of all time does abysmally in blind tests. Typically, when we give it to modern audiences to smell and evaluate it, without telling them what they smell, it is rated much lower than it's really worth. The perfume continues to be produced and sold, but not actually worn! Gifted, symbolically, totemically, but safe-kept… 

 

The Ψηανελ company, however, is very careful in maintaining the legend of Chanel No.5. With various screenings, revealing "reports" about his bottles on the nightstand of Marilyn Monroe (its most famous customer), and snippets in the history of its creation. 

Ernest Beaux, the perfumer of Chanel, actually envisioned his original formula one night in the Arctic Circle, in the ports of the soon-to-be Soviet Union. The generation of millennials and generation Z no longer finds contact points with it. 

 

 A friend, a critic and acclaimed author had said about it, “Chanel N ° 5 remained more wearable than most old perfumes, but it shows its age again. This is not an argument against him. In fact it is just the opposite. There is a royal correctness in N ° 5 that you will not find in a perfume of Comme des Garçons, and an extreme or boldness in Comme that you do not find in N ° 5. As long as you understand what you are communicating with either one or the other.”  

Modern audiences are familiar with vanilla (see Billie Eilish above) in thousands of variations and the soapy sophisticated profile of No.5 looks heavy, formal - and oh mon dieu "old lady"! (age racism for perfumes is the last bastion) This year's 100th anniversary for Chanel No.5 was therefore celebrated with a series of "collectible" body products and items (such as a water bottle and stickers!) called FACTORY NO.5 at stratospheric prices for what they offered… The highlight was Chanel's Advent Calendar, offered at a steep price, with some flimsy products (there were stickers again...), key chains and other such trinkets. The influencers were rampant with calling out Chanel on Tik Tok. And rightly so. For half the  price you could have gotten the advent calendars by Dior or YSL with normal useful products.

 

So corporate hypocrisy got a big churn during 2021. Fragrant market please beware of such phenomena in 2022. 

A Smooth Leather for the Tough 1930s: Lanvin Scandal

~by guest writer Denyse Beaulieu

Though the fashion pendulum swung back to femininity, away from the androgynous styles of the Garçonnes towards a more traditionally feminine silhouette ~waists, breasts and hips caressed by bias-cut satin, bobs set in platinum marcelled curls~ the Thirties were in fact a much tougher era than the Années Folles. Perhaps all-out modernism can only occur in an era of financial optimism…


The France in which Scandal was born in 1932 was riddled with unemployment, political instability and financial scandals. In the wake of the newly fashionable psychoanalysis, surrealism delved into the subconscious and its disturbing images. From the 1932 Tabu by Dana to Schiaparelli’s Shocking in 1937, perfume names reflected these troubled times…
It is strange, though, that the house of Lanvin would be the boldest in naming its scents: the milliner Jeanne Lanvin actually launched her brilliant career by producing for her high society clientele the designs she had created for her beloved daughter – the house logo by Paul Iribe showed a stylised mother and daughter embrace. However, starting with the sensuous My Sin in 1925, on to L’Ame Perdue (“Lost Soul”) and Pétales Froissés (“Crumpled Petals”, perhaps a vague allusion to “damaged goods”), both in 1928, Lanvin launched a series of racily-named perfumes. A shrewd marketer, she was in tune with the zeitgeist. In the year following the launch of Scandal, the most resounding politico-financial scandal of the decade, the Stavisky affair ~in which several prominent figures were embroiled~ would rock France to its very foundations.


Was Scandal scandalous for its day? As we have seen in the previous instalments of this series, leather had already entered the feminine scent wardrobe a decade earlier. But unlike its Twenties forerunners Tabac Blond, En Avion or Djedi, and to a much greater degree than Chanel Cuir de Russie, Scandal plays up the animalic, leathery side of leather. According to perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan, who commented about it on these pages, André Fraysse had also composed a “cuir de Russie” base (i.e. a mixture of different components for ready use in perfumery) for Synarome.
This is possibly the “cuir de Russie” mentioned in the breakdown of notes:

Top: neroli, bergamot, mandarine, clary sage.
Heart: jüchten (cuir de Russie), iris, rose, ylang
Base: incense, civet, oakmoss, vanilla, vetiver, benzoin.

Considered by many perfume lovers to be the ultimate leather, Scandal was admired by no lesser an authority than the late, great Edmond Roudnitska. It is one of the few classics he mentions in his book Le Parfum(Presses Universitaires de France, 1980), firstly as the prototype of a “fruity-aldehydic-leather” family and secondly, as a prime example of compositions that evoke rather than represent a note (which he opposes to non-representational perfumes such as N°5, Arpège, Mitsouko or Femme).

“Leather and tobacco”, he observes, “are already transpositions of natural elements since they undergo painstaking preparations which alter the initial odour.”

My own version of Scandal is a flacon of extrait, of which one third has evaporated. The aldehydic top notes mentioned by Roudnitska have all but disappeared, except in the first fleeting moments of application, with a slight hint of citrus.

What immediately dominates is, well, leather, with a stronger birch tar edge than Chanel Cuir de Russie, with which it shares several notes: rich, deep, smooth as a fine old Bordeaux or a single malt whisky, with its complex peaty-mossy depths – oakmoss certainly, possibly vetiver because of the earthiness. A sombre undercurrent yields a vaguely licorice-y tinge to the heart, in a moment of olfactory illusionism: is it the clary sage? The floral notes seem so deeply blended in that they don’t appear as such any longer, which could be an effect of the age of the sample – a common phenomenon in older extraits. In its pristine version, the aldehydic fizz lifting the dark wood-resin-animal base, churning through the stately cool iris, tender rose and flesh-like carnality of the ylang-ylang must made for an intoxicating experience.
As it is, though, it is still a compellingly complex, opulent leather.

Though Lanvin has recently re-launched a scent of the same André Fraysse series, Rumeur (there was also Crescendo and Prétexte), there seems to be no chance of their resurrecting Scandal, discontinued in 1971: British perfumer Roja Dove has appropriated the name which had fallen into the public domain for one of his own compositions, an opulent white floral. Lancôme’s 2007 re-edition of Révolte/Cuir, another animalic leather of the period, was quickly followed by its discontinuation, allegedly because it was too costly to produce.

Thus, the original Scandal seems condemned to the limbo of long-lost scents. The few drops remaining are all the more precious: a reminder of an age where to dab your skin in the scent of a flower-drenched leather would send an iconoclastic frisson coursing through well-bred salons…


Pics from the "Gosford Park" film by Robert Altman, set in 1932, courtesy of djuna.cine21.
Pic of the french film "La règle du jeu" by Jean Renoir from wikipedia.
Lanvin ad originally uploaded at cofe.ru

L'Artisan Parfumeur Al Oudh: new fragrance

Hot on the heels of moroccan impressions and no sooner had a review of the newest Havana Vanilla been posted on our pages (a scent in the Travel series from L'Artisan and inspired by the tobacco and vanilla of old Cuba) that we find out positive info on another new L'Artisan Parfumeur coming out: Al Oudh, simply meaning "the oud". Composed by in-house perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour and centered on the noble scent of the patholigical secretion of Aquillaria trees, oud or aloeswood, the new oriental fragrance is hypnotically beckoning us into a Middle-Eastern dervish dance, an hypnotic sight from which we can't draw our eyes off. The smoky, nutty complex smell of oud wood with its resemblanc to Band-Aids is definitely the dominating trend in niche releases in the last few seasons, having gained a momentum like there was no tomorrow (Montale was on to something when he burst into the scene with his ouds!). The oud bandwagon has everyone on it from Micalef's Aoud Homme to Tom Ford Oud Wood and more mainstream releases such as YSL M7, which begs the question what will happen if the guy and the gal next to you on the subway will start wearing tons of oud scents on the daily commute. But I digress.
Bertrand is taking the inspiration from the Arabian peninsula and the Spice Route (much like we had reported on Amouage and their new Epic, it's an always popular theme anyway) along with his familiar, honed skills on incense (myrrh, frankincense) to compose a spicy, woody and animalic composition with leathery notes which is reported to be "incredibly strong" as per the perfumer's own words.
The oudh/oud/aoud note is much harped on for being ultra-expensive (and indeed its production is so labour-intensive as to require exorbitant prices), yet new synthetics which mimic its medicinal and smoky scent have lately become available, starting with M7 by Yves Saint Laurent a few years ago (thus bringing the fad all the way downscale to Bath & Body Works recently). This justifies the claim of oud "notes" across the market at every price point. I trust that L'Artisan and Bertrand, with their usual finesse and care for marrying the best of both worlds, will instill a little of the real deal, extended with suave aromachemicals which will support it.

Notes* for L'Artisan Al Oudh:
Top: Cumin, cardamom, pink pepper
Heart: Neroli, rose, castoreum, civet, leather, musk
Base: Oud, sandalwood, Atlas cedar, patchouli, myrrh, incense, vanilla, tonka bean

*please note this is the sequence quotted, although it appears mid notes are comprised of heavier molecules

L'Artisan Al Oudh will be available as Eau de Parfum in 100ml/3.4oz bottles with Arabesque edges and a box that is scalloped with mosque-like decorations. It does look beautiful! (and Lutensian I might add in mischief) It will launch in winter 2009-2010.

info & pic via extrait.it

Incense week: 1.Palm Sunday and its exotic fragrances

Incense is inextricably linked to liturgy and religious ceremonies since pagan times and as I am not particularly religious myself, but more interested in aspects of history and tradition, I chose to simply grab the chance to talk about a very popular perfume note that never fails to put scent lovers in a mood. Therefore the reader should not see this series of articles as any attempt at catechizing or preaching of the wonders of any faith or sect, as my objective is to provide a fun and hopefully interesting method of attributing specific incense perfumes to certain moods as reflected by tales from religious texts and categorizing them into broad categories that encompass certain commonalities. I am sure this could be done for any religion and faith existing in regard to perfumes. Let’s just say it seemed a novel idea to me. This first article aims to also provide a little introduction to the relation of incense and Christian practice.

Incense of course has a noble history since antiquity as a means of pesticide, air cleanser and for medical and poisonous purposes as well. It was also used in sacrificial liturgies and this practice was picked up by Christians who blamed pagans for their habits, nevertheless soon adopted several of their common habits in their own liturgical usage. The Hebrew tradition is of course rich in the aromatic on its own and Song of Songs is only a smidgeon of that aspect.
Tracing back the beginning of such incense use as a pathway to the divine in Christian church we stumble upon Ephrem and the Transitus Mariae, after its 300 years of exile from Christian practices. Later on, stylite ascetics ignited such admiration for their superhuman feats and willpower that their position as literally and spiritually above and beyond was linked to the smoke rings rising from incense burning in censers, like the bodily matter immaterializes into the spiritual. Incense piety had begun in earnest for the Christian faith. Saints were said to exude the paradisial scent of myrrh, while devil and his disciples were inextricably linked to sulfur (as supposedly witnessed by Martin of Tours). Foul smells also recall decay and disease and thus invoke an image of human fall and corruption which is metaphorically linked to a moral low.
Ambrose of Milan calls Christ the flower of Mary, denoting a pleasant sensory experience in the presence of the holy and the continuation of fragrance emitting even after death, just like flowers do after being cut. It is no accident that even today in churches and monasteries there is myrrh and frankincense anointed to the mortar and sold to the devout while ascetic places now open to visit for the public smell potently of that most holy of aromas.
Myself I adore ecclesiastical incense which I buy in “tears” not from shops or internet e-tailers but directly from church and flea markets, made by monks usually at the Athos monastic community in Greece. I will elaborate on it on an upcoming post as it is interesting in itself, but suffice to say that the variety I prefer called “moscholeevano” ("leevan" etymologically derives from Levant, the east, or Lebanon) which is a deep, dark, resiny smell with a piercingly sweet top that makes the heart ache a bit and is on the whole likened on various fora to the exhaust fumes of a diesel engine vehicle. I think not, but we will have plenty of time elucidating that in a forthcoming installment.

It is worth noting in passing before we proceed any further that incense as a term is not a single note or ingredient but that it can in turn have various notes in itself. The classical ingredients for incense are frankincense or olibanum while myrrh and labdanum are also used, along with many others. Many recipes exist and each perfumer –professional or amateur- is composing one’s own mixture.

We thus begin our exploration of incense in relation to the celebrations of the Holy week with Palm Sunday, the first day of the holy week and the aftermath of Lazarus’s resurrection, perhaps the most famous miracle supposedly performed by Jesus.
The last Sunday of Lent is commonly referred to as Palm Sunday. On that day religious texts tell us that Christ entered Jerusalem on a donkey, to be greeted by the crowds gathered for Passover carrying palm branches. By doing so he enacted the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9 and also showed the humility with which he envisioned the Kingdom he proclaimed. However this is also the beginning of the Holy week that culminated in Crucifixion and Resurrection and is thus also called Passion Week.
Although Jesus was greeted with “Hosanna to the son of David”, recalling the famous King David of the Old Testament, it is perhaps an irony that that same crowd was against him just days afterwards. However this is only human nature and does not reflect on any religious antagonism in my opinion, taking in mind too that in the name of Christ lots of those holy places were pillaged and people were slain in later centuries.
To revert to semiotics, the traditional Lent colour is purple in Protestant churches, while in Catholic tradition on Palm Sunday it changes to red with all its connotations to life and blood, hence its use to connote the martyrs of faith in Christian iconography.
First mention of Palm Sunday procession is to be found in the travel journal of Etheria, a nun from northwest Spain who made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem toward the end of the fourth century. In her writing she refers to Palm Sunday as the beginning of the Paschal Week (pascha=easter, deriving from the Hebrew peschah).

Therefore as this plethora of symbols and inferences is not lost upon me, upon reflecting on specific perfumes that explore one aspect of incense I came up with the following suggestions.

Ouarzazate by Comme des Garcons Incense series: The first images that came to my mind upon resniffing this were the locales of exotic Morocco of which it is inspired and named after (there is indeed an ancient city by that name in the Atlas mountain area). Scenery for a lot of movies recently, some of the sandal-and-sword type, Ourazazte the fragrance has a dry and hot character immediately. The initial harsh top note of clary sage gives a very pungent, herbal aspect of disinfectant, which I am sure would be useful in those hot places, festering with bacteria, and it is this which had initially deterred me from further appreciating the composition in this rendition of incense in the infamous and revered Incense series by the Japanese brand. The hotness and coolness of peppercorns is tickling-but not singeing- the nostrils supported by a lemony phase that is actually the best part for me personally, while the incense is only hinted at and never as rich and full as the type used in liturgy. However it is not the far eastern variety but reminiscent of western tradition. The ethereal and resinous quality of wenge and labdanum is anchored by dry woods, soft clean musk (the synthetic cashmere woods) and a mineral veil of hard rock that is very a propos the exoticism of the proposed association.
It smells white and is illuminated by a hopeful and clearing tone of people walking great distances in rugged territory in anticipation of something worthy.
The whole does not last long, just as the triumphant procession through the streets of the holy land did not either.
This is a thinking person’s incense for outdoor activities in a hot climate and suitable for both sexes, not a sensual, cuddly, warm type at all, despite the mentioned inclusion of vanilla which is absent to my nose.

Timbuktu by L’artisan parfumeur: Another atypical incense and woods fragrance, chosen because of its outdoorsy air and exotic character that smells of the Middle East and Africa. Not terribly popular, because of the weird ambience of it, however it is one of the most interesting compositions I have ever smelled and it retains a place in my heart for its limpid and soft medley of notes. Contrary to internet tails that it actually contains real animal matter (surely, this is just sensationalism to you and me and I doubt L’artisan intentionally hinted at such notions) it has a woody, black soil character that overcomes the feline urinous smell it is so often accused of possessing. Frankincense takes a slightly bitter turn in this one and it is an airy and light incense note like that in Passage d’enfer; its marriage with spicy cardamom, a middle-eastern favourite aroma used for scenting Arabian coffee is very successful.
It has a tart but not really sharp acidic note throughout that is balanced by the earthy dirty plant scent that reminds one of unidentifiable leaves and roots. Abstract dryness is the overall tone of the composition and a verge towards the unisex or even to the masculine end of the spectrum is not uncalled for. This is not to imply that it doesn’t smell good on woman’s skin, because it does, but it is not what most people in the West associate with a feminine smell, although it is said to have been inspired by a traditional recipe of African women as an attraction elixir. Bertrand Duchaufour,the nose behind this oddball, visited his brother in Mali where he learned that the women there concocted a fragrant alloy of flower petals spices, fruits and woods which they used to scent themselves. The fruits in Timbuktu are nothing like the department store variety of saccharine persuasion we have come to expect and do not make a pronounced appearance. In fact it is not very unlike the niche green mango note that is present in Jardin sur le Nil (although there it manages to also evoke the peel of fresh grapefruit to me). The inclusion of patchouli of the Voleur de Roses variety, vetiver and myrrh provide a backdrop for good lasting power allied to the powderiness of benzoin which makes a short vanishing act at the end.
I do not find it similar to anything else on the market, although a slight relation to Kyoto from CDG Incense series might be detected if hard pressed.
I find it is best suited to in-between weather: neither too cold, nor too cold, so autumn and spring are its shining seasons. It comes in eau de toilette.

Costes by Hotel Costes: I hesitated before including this one in today’s procession, because it is rather warmer and somehow richer in its ambience, with its spicy cinnamon and white pepper character, but the notion that it is inspired by a hotel in Paris (thus having a hospitalier connotation) and made for them and the red colour designated to this day -which is reflected in the packaging of this perfume- convinced me to mention it just as well. The nose behind it is Olivia Giacobetti, a young and quirky perfumer who has worked on many inriguing scents such as En passant, Passage d'enfer, and Dzing! Initially conceived as a candle and then as a fragrance by people who have also ventured into musical CD compilations aiming at providing lifestyle options, it manages to smell different on different people.
It still has the green and herbal character that is tied to the vision I have of this day in my mind, with a touch of evergreens, crushed coriander and laurel leaves that remind me of a good stew or lentil soup being made.
Luckily, although it is said to be included among the mix, rose does not make a pronounced appearance on me, meaning it is not the old-fashioned powdery rose which might take a turn for the sour on certain skins (or brains...). There is also a soap element like that of alkaline suds of slightly sweet sandalwood old-fashioned men’s soap allied with pure lavender that is surfacing on my skin and thus it takes a clean turn that is rather welcome in warmer weather. That aspect is not antithetical to the notion of incense fragrances as lots of them do explore the pureness and spirituality of cleanness. It is not only the deep, pungent efforts that might reek of pretence that capture the mysterious. The incense in Costes is smoky and not too rich, slightly recalling a much lighter (and thus perhaps more wearable for lots of people) of Essence of John Galliano by Diptyque which also started as an ambience smell rather than a personal fragrance (more on which later on).
I think Costes can be enjoyed in any season by both sexes, as long as the wearer has a little individuality and a modern air about them and is not up against a heatwave. Its lasting power is average for an eau de toilette concentration.


Next installment in the series will tackle a different aspect of incense.




Greek orthodox icon pic comes from saintbarbara.org