Serge Lutens A La Nuit: fragrance review and musings

Dedicated to the night and voluptuous, feminine women everywhere, A la Nuit by Serge Lutens is probably the most life-like rendition of night-blooming jasmine in all of perfumery. The narcotic, star-petalled flower hypnotizes all who come into contact with it on a warm summer's evening, when the air is filled with promise of romance and sensual abandon. Heady, sweet, laced with honeyed and resinous notes that weave their own web of seduction, A la Nuit employs several different varieties of jasmine: Moroccan, Egyptian and Indian. Surrendering yourself to its temptation is akin to reaching erotic zenith...

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Jasmine is plentiful in southern Europe and northern Africa from where Lutens was inspired; lush, narcotic, dense with clotted cream at night-time, making the heart ache with its sweetness, fresh and bubble-gum worthy with green dewiness in the mornings. But while we, perfume lovers, like to mock and taunt each other about the fecal reminiscent particulars in it, specifically the combination of moth-balls indole and peachy-creamy lactones, plus many other wonderful and weird chemical additions that talk to our sensitive human hormones, hearing it being invoked by your beloved in an intimate setting can turn into unsettling quickly. How stimulating is the invocation of #2 in the bedroom? Not particularly for most, I'd wager. Let this be a lesson to test this glorious specimen of true jasmine first, before plunging headlong into it.

Created in 2000. Fragrance Family: Floral Oriental 
Perfumer: Chris Sheldrake 
Fragrance Notes A La Nuit by Serge Lutens: jasmine, grenadine, beeswax, musk and benzoin. 

Sarrasins by Serge Lutens: perfume review

~by guest writer Carmencanada

It is rumoured that soon Serge Lutens will relinquinsh the aromatic business and focus on his makeup line, hence the title of the review. Enjoy!


OVERTURE TO A SWANSONG

A la Nuit, launched in 2000, seemed so definitive a rendition that it was described on the Makeup Alley forum by Tania Sanchez (co-author, with Luca Turin, of a perfume guide to be published in 2008), as “death by jasmine”? It would seem as though Lutens had an afterthought about the way in which this headiest of the heady white flower notes could be treated. And why not? If it weren’t for the simultaneous release of Louve in the export line, itself a tamer reworking of the non-export 1998 Rahät Loukhoum, the issue of Lutens’s inspiration, now that his partner-in-composition Christopher Sheldrake has gone on to assist Jacques Polge at Chanel, wouldn’t be so worrisome. But, though Sheldrake is said to be pursuing his work with Lutens, there seems to be something seriously amiss in this pioneering, uncompromising, profoundly idiosyncratic house.

Sarrasins is quite a lovely scent, actually. First word on it alluded to a more saturated version of The Different Company’s Jasmin de Nuit, a spice-laced, transparent jasmine with notes of cardamom, star anise and cinnamon. And that seemed like a logical step for Lutens: to wed the soliflore to the spices he has been exploring in his recent, export-line Chypre Rouge and Rousse, as well as in the non-export Mandarine Mandarin.

But spices are never more than alluded to – the sweaty pong of cumin, perhaps, or the cold-hot burst of cardamom, clutched to death in jasmine’s cloying embrace. Sarrasins is essentially a big jasmine embellished by animalic notes – this is how the Lutens sales assistants characterize it when asked in which way it differs from A la Nuit. An extremely tantalizing, Dzing-like, dirty-salty whiff of the feline – civet, said the SA when I mentioned it – creeps out after a few minutes on the skin. Some ten minutes later, it is joined by musk, both the softer version developed in Clair de Musc and the skankier one that made the barbaric, iconic Muscs Kublaï Khan the king of the animal fragrances. But this hint of the feral never goes beyond the whiff; jasmine’s indolic leanings towards the shithouse, which should be exasperated by the claimed adjunction of a civet-like compound, are never assuaged. The big cat is shooed out by a note that could only be described as slightly petrol-like – characteristic of jasmine-saturated compositions like Joy – and that could be the “ink” note alluded to in the press release. The deep purple tint of the juice itself, perhaps a tribute to Arabic calligraphy, emphasizes the reference. But it doesn’t seem quite enough to do to jasmine what the ground-breaking Tubéreuse Criminelle did for its namesake flower: snatch the camphor-menthol notes of the tuberose absolute and push them to the fore in a jarringly seductive assault on the nose. The very knowledgeable perfume historian Octavian Sever Coifan, in his 1000 fragrances blog, states that he distinctly recognizes the same “very nice jasmine base” in Sarrasins than in other recent launches.

Granted, not all of the Lutens-Sheldrake compositions have been shockers: Fleurs de Citronnier, Clair de Musc, Santal Blanc, Daim Blond, to name a few, all conceived for the more commercial export line, are fairly tame, unlike the Palais-Royal exclusives and their flamboyant baroque style. The principle of Lutens’s most spectacular achievements was to exacerbate a note’s characteristics – the camphor in tuberose, the cold earthiness of iris, the dustiness of patchouli, the bitterness of oak, the piss-like ammonia of honey – until they nearly toppled over into ugliness. The Lutens wear you, rather than you wear them. They exist entirely on their own terms: like the mythical palace he is said to be eternally embellishing in Marrakech, and which almost no-one has seen (or had seen the last time I was in Morocco), they exude solipcistic aloofness. Olfactory exercises in the re-creation of a vanished Oriental realm, they are cruel genies in a bottle, hard to conquer – as American aficionados have long and bitterly complained of – and not rewarding to all.

Now it seems that Lutens, retreating further into the rarefied atmosphere of this realm, is unable to send his stately decrees all the way to the Palais-Royal. They reach us muffled, like afterthoughts – Gris Clair of Encens et Lavande, Louve of Rahät Loukhoum and now, in a puzzling reversal of the export/exclusive interplay, Sarrasins of A la Nuit...

Perhaps Serge Lutens feels that he has said all he had to say in his “chemical poems” (to quote Luca Turin’s beautiful expression). Perhaps the rumours are true, and he will soon conclude his masterful opus. Let’s just hope that his swansong is more definitive than the delicious, but not irreplaceable Sarrasins.

Pic of calligraphy by Iranian artist Hassan Massoudy with the caption "Don't spend two words if one is sufficient for you." (Arab proverb). It comes from perso.orange.fr

Jasmine series: part 3 ~ rich jasmine suggestions

After examining the properties and usage of jasmine in perfumery it was about time to concentrate on specific perfumes that feature it in its multiple capacities. To this end, it was decided that a triplet of divisions would be opted for: rich essences with depth and oomph, mellow compositions that stand on the golden medium between extremes and fresh nuances that are welcome even on the hottest of days and would never overwhelm. Today we are focusing on the first category.

The crown jewel is of course A la nuit by Serge Lutens. However it has been adequately elaborated on at Perfume Shrine not to require further description.

On the same rich and abundant jasmine kick, L'artisan Parfumeur makes the surprise and offers us a heady bouquet in La Haie Fleuri de Hameau. It is big, opulent, operatic and orgasmic even, full of the concentrated essence of jasmine, much like A la nuit is. Created as a haunting interpretation of Marie Antoinette's garden of white flowers at Versailles by Jean La Porte, founder of L'artisan house and subsequently creator of the Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier line, it is reminiscent of A la nuit's opulence minus the heavy indolic rot.
However La haie fleuri is encompassing other floral notes as well, such as pronounced hyacinth in the drydown as well as lily of the valley and honeysuckle at the opening with a smidgeon of tuberose (subdued) that account for a multi-floral impression that like an impressionistic painting stuns you with its brutal exploitation of the light and its effects on objects. The different nuances with a little green and a little soap interjected peek through at intervals and make their presence known all the while under the baguette of the efficient maestro that jasmine undoubtedly is. Very potent and surprisingly extremely lasting (and I am saying this for those who complain on L'artisan's offerings' lasting power), it is to be used with restraint.
Although created some time ago, it still is available at the Boutique L'artisan and at select places where the brand is available in the big 100ml bottle only. Check here for prices and availability.

Jardin Blanc by Maitre Parfumer et Gantier was the next logical step in our itinerary through rich hedonistic jasmines, and not only for reasons of symmetry after La Haie Fleuri. The inclusion of tuberose shifts this one in the fecal, animalic direction when the opening slaps you across the face with its audacity and insolence, with what smells to my nose as sweet heady honeysuckle and with a nod to Fracas with its rubbery heart.
The official notes are, according to Aedes:
Top: Mandarin, myrtle, leafy green; Middle: Ylang-ylang, clove, jasmine; Base: Sandalwood, tolu, vetiver.
It doesn't come off as green or leafy, although there is the weird "freshness" that white florals sometimes possess at the initial stage, as if you have cut the stems from the vine just now, yet it is deeply earthy, sweet and potent, drying down softer, soapier and more muted which accounts for higher wearability than initially expected.


The Different Company under the direction of Jean Claude Ellena's daughter, Celine Ellena, came out with Jasmin de Nuit, an offering that could not leave Perfume Shrine and its love of all things jasmine uninterested. The official notes include bergamot, black currant, egyptian jasmine, star anise, cinnamon, cardamom, sandalwood, musk and amber. According to the house, it has unusually high concentrations of Egyptian jasmine absolute, which is a variety that supposedly has a fruitier undertone than others more commonly used.
My personal impression is that it is more spicy than intensly floral on the whole and as such it cannot but be a very intriguing addition to the sampling package of any discerning perfume afficionado in the search for jasmine perfumes. In fact many spice lovers would find the cardamom opening delectable (which is a favourite spice for the Ellena family, if I go by Jean Claude's magnificent pilgrimage to it in Declaration by Cartier). It then mellows and leaves the jasmine notes to marry with ambery undertones that linger seductively and warmly on the skin for a long time, much more than other creations of The Different Company if you're familiar with the line.

In our perusal of rich jasmine fragrances, Creed with its Jasmine Emperatrice Eugenie, a fragrance created for a real historical figure, is next on our list. Based on an original formula of the 19th century for the wife of Napoleon III, it is a triumph for the house of Creed. With its rich, suave sandalwood base and its effluvium of jasmine it is at once feminine and emancipated enough to command attention. The lightly vanillic base accounts for augmenting the warmth and cuddliness of the scent. Its character lies somewhere between Bois des Iles by Chanel, Samsara by Guerlain and Organza by Givenchy, accounting for a woody floral that is elegant yet potent at the same time.

Samsara by Guerlain is another stonking beat of jasmine with the rich support of sandalwood, amplified to the max. If your olfactory nerve does not numb with the potent smell I don't know what will produce such an effect. Still, it is a modern classic that merits testing. For a lovely detailed review of it, you can browse Ayala's review here

And for the grand finale, Jasmin Full by Montale is a lethal Venus flytrap that is certainly going to entangle you into a deathly grip. Very strong, yet not indolic or animalic the way A la nuit is, it lasts extremely well and lets its other floral notes like orange blossom peek a boo for the merest whiff. It has been commented to smell a little like ammonia, which could be attributed to the nature of jasmine molecular structure and emition as discussed before, still I do not perceive it as unpleasant, which is something I cannot say for some of the oudhs on the Montale line which compete for foulest sniff on my personal fragrance path. A must try for serious jasmine fans.


Next post will focus on mellow, balanced jasmine renditions.



Artwork Flaming June by Frederick Leighton courtesy of artcom.