Comme des Garcons Wonderwood: new fragrance & short film

The new fragrance by Comme des Garçons is called Wonderwood and focuses of course on...woods! The unisex fragrance is acompanied by a short film shot by the Quay Brothers who are highly renowned for their stop motion filming technique. The story involves a man for whom the love of trees simply cannot be put into words. The edgy video has been uploaded on Youtube where you can watch it with ease (the video had debuted exclusively at Love Magazine UK). The video medium is fast becoming the new vehicle through which top brands choose to promote their products, often assisted by artistic direction by top creators.

Comme des Garcons Holygrapie, Holygrace: new fragrances

Two new fragrances are launching from the uber-urban,niche sophisticate Comme des Garçons brand with retro packaging that will have you doubting whether they come from Rei Kawakubo's braindchild or from a classic Victorian vignette!
Designer and artist Jun Takahashi has collaborated with perfume brand Comme des Garçons to release two new perfumes named after his own fashion label Undercover and inspired by his enigmatic universe, in particular his fantastic plush animals, the Graces. The fragrances are called Undercover Holygrace and Undercover Holygrapie. The duo symbolizes the relationship of mother Grace and child Grapie. Or so they say...

Holygrapie reflects the smell of babies, kindness and sensuality.
Top Note: ginger purple, tangerine, rhubarb, black pepper Heart notes: iris, frankincense, ylang-ylang Base notes: Australian sandalwood, cedar wood, patchouli, benzoin, vetiver

Holygrace, a perfume of elegance, soap freshness and poison, featuring notes of bergamot, ginger and pepper.Top : Bergamot, purple ginger, pink pepper, cardamom.Heart : Jasmine, incense, broom, red pimentoBase : Vanilla, amber, vetyver, styrax.

Both fragrances retail for 78 euros for 50ml of Eau de Toilette.

Scent Two: Laurel by Monocle x Comme des Garcons: fragrance review

~by Mike Perez

As a lover of spice prominent fragrances, I find it extremely easy to enjoy the newest Monocle x Comme des Garcons collaboration, Scent Two: Laurel. I remember focusing on the laurel (bay leaf) accord in two other fragrances and being slightly disappointed: Aqua Allegoria Laurier Reglisse by Guerlain and Acqua Della Macchia Mediterranea by Borsari – the former being almost all licorice and no spice; and the latter being a wonderful fougere in it’s own right (in the vein of the fantastic [but discontinued] Calvin by Calvin Klein) but a bit too simple.

With Scent Two: Laurel I have found what I always hoped for in a laurel prominent scent. Realism, pungency and complexity.

The laurel note smells sundried, almost roasted in texture - with a bit of that oregano and/or thyme tickle and then starts off immediately blending with a strong and persistent ground peppercorn accord – all swirling underneath a sharp cedar note. It is this definitive sharpness that lasts for the first hour – a trademark of the Monocle x CdG fragrances that that showed up in Scent One: Hinoki, as eucalyptus and fresh cut wood. But this new release is much more aromatic. Fans of Lorenzo Villoresi’s heavy-handed aromatic fragrances (Spezie, Uomo) know exactly what I mean, because many of the LV scents typically smell raw, almost shockingly intense, and it is a style of perfumery that polarizes colognoisseurs. You either enjoy it or you don’t.

Hidden among the intensity of the spices, is a fresh-turned-earth accord: dirt, moss, and branches of trees on the ground. Certain types of vetiver conjure up that feeling for me, and yet STL has no vetiver at all. It’s more a feeling of natural, rugged earth. The spices smell like they have a bit of dirt still left on them – they are not in the kitchen to be used for food…they’re still being harvested in their raw, dry state.

If I smell my skin up close during the final dry down, I can make out a quite wonderful patchouli note and a tiny hint of crisp, salty amber. Pulling my nose away, the scent shifts back to its spices. Later on, I’m able to smell the incense, hovering in the background. I think it’s what Antoine Maisondieu (the perfumer) added that gives it an aura of calmness & tranquility. Supposedly the scent is based upon the scent of a vacation to Lebanon and that regions handmade, laurel scented soaps. I have not smelled these soaps but I do know the feeling a hot, soapy bath give me…especially one that leaves traces of fragrance on skin: refreshment, relaxation and simplicity. The same feelings evoked by this wonderful scent.


Scent Two: Laurel comes in a 50 ml atomizer. It can be purchased online at Luckyscent, The Perfume Shoppe and at the magazine’s online shop ($135).

H&M by Comme des Garcons – an EXCLUSIVE PRE-RELEASE review

~by guest writer Mike Perez

This week (Thursday, the 13th) Comme des Garcons release an exclusive collection of clothes, accessories and fragrance in H&M stores around the world. Comme des Garcons fragrances are one of my favorite subjects. Those on Basenotes know I own a large portion of the fragrance line and I admire the aesthetic, marketing and edgy style. I do have my share of fragrances that I cannot wear (Odeur 53 gives me a splitting headache) or simply don’t like (Sequoia [Series 2: Red] smells so much better on other people) but I always look forward to a new CdG fragrance release. So it goes without saying that I succumbed to the hype about H&M and purchased a bottle (prior to the release to the general public) un-sniffed, which I almost never do.

A healthy dose of fizzy cedar is the first note you'll detect when applying H&M.LOTS of cedar! Not as brutal as the ‘axed wood plank’ (or pencil shavings) of Gucci Pour Homme, but softened and diffusive (as if electrically charged by those crazy odd numbered aldehydes Turin speaks about - that smell like a snuffed out candle, mixed with cedar). It’s quite an unmistakable accord and without sounding too vague, it smells very Comme des Garcons-ish. Whatever that means! No living tree actually smells like this - in the ground or chopped up. It’s a synthetic replication of wood. Virtual wood, if you will.
It’s after a short while, that I noticed the incense – sharp, spicy, and oddly metallic. Have you ever sniffed real stainless steel cutlery, perhaps locked away in a cedar chest – right before you polish it with stainless steel cleaner? That smell. The non-smoky metallic incense gives the cedar notes a slight ‘gothic’ lift, but maybe this is just my olfactory association run free (a large portion of the H&M Comme des Garcons clothes are black?)
Comme des Garcons does incense accords extremely well (Scent One: Hinoki by CdG x Monocle is one of my favorite scents of 2008 and Avignon and Kyoto (Series 3: Incense) are just classics). The incense in H&M is the best part of the fragrance. I tend to avoid metallic incense scents (Nu by YSL actually hurts my nose when I smell it) – but this incense is not sharp and has a slight tanginess that blossoms into a sweet/spicy combination atop a weird synthetic accord (thinning agent?) that CdG have utilized before in Soda and Skai (Series 6: Synthetic) . As the fragrance fades away (4-5 hours later) I smelled a tiny bit of dirt covered vetiver.

I can’t help comparing H&M to a scent that features cedar / incense and synthetics (a little more effectively): the discontinued Rush for Men by Gucci. The similarity is unmistakable.
No new ground was broken with H&M. The scent is simple and I’m very surprised it’s not more edgy. The H&M department store customers (and CdG fans) will most likely attribute just enough ‘irony’ and ‘weirdness’ to H&M to give it an instant cool factor – but me personally I find it’s off-the-cuff strangeness rather accessible. The plain, clear glass bottle (the same exact bottle used in the Energy Series [Lime, Grapefruit and Lemon] by CdG) is much less stylish than the adorable, white die-cut ‘swiss cheese’ box it comes in. For the $35 price tag, it’s also remarkably affordable.
Notes: not yet available, to be updated.
$34.90 (US) for a 1 oz bottle.

Check out a video of Tokyo H&M / CdG launch.

Pics provided by Mike Perez.

Bullion or Bull? 8 88 of them...by Comme des Garcons: fragrance review

Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the bullion from the bull. Gold has a way of masquerading into the most unexpected guises, while the reverse is also true.
Comme des Garcons 8 88 new fragrance was released for only one week (!) in London at the Burlington Arcade guerilla store. It won't be available again until March 2008, but a generous and kind soul was able to get us a sample and Perfume Shrine has the rare privilege to review the elusive scent with the weird and -reputedly lucky?- numerological name.

Comme des Garcons has always gone for the quirky, establishing themselves at the vanguard of art perfumery with a twist. A resolutely modern line of fine fragrances. The brand by Rei Kawakubo who introduced the pauper-chic of the early 80s to jaw-dropping Paris has set a high standard for shock value. Their Guerilla stores were the kind of avant-guard marketing that makes for cleverly calibered word-of-mouth. It even convinced me to go under the shade of an ancient ruin for the sole purpose of shopping for the first time in my life!
The challenge was to see whether they delivered this time around, as they had previously succeeded in doing with their wonderful Incense line (a long-time favourite of mine) or the Red series or indeed the original fragrances that bore their name, aiming at working like Ayuverdic medicine (they don't...).

Antoine Lie, a perfumer from Swiss giant Givaudan, was the nose who created 8 88. It tries to capture the odour of gold, an elusive goal no doubt but in line with the brand's attempt to ride on the Luxe bandwagon: a concept perhaps at odds with their conduct thus far.

Jewels have always mesmerised both the artistic and the mystical in me, with their aura of hidden but powerful energy surrounding them. Most importantly the feel of heirlooms and historical pices, some of which have pride of place in my ever expanding collection, give me a rush of aesthetic and intellectual pleasure in running my fingers over them, contemplating just how they were made, who they belonged to and what feelings they evoked for their owners.
Yellow gold pieces in particular remind me of ancient rituals, the homeric "Mycenae, rich in gold": the loot from ancient Egypt by the Ekwesh (whom recent research tautologises as Achaean Greeks coming from Anatolia).
Alas, much as I lean on my comparatively less important pieces, I cannot bring myself to smell anything more than the faint remains of the fragrance that clung from my skin since the occassion that I wore them. Gold really has no special smell, apart from the metallic coldness or the odour of blood shed in its pursuit...


The task set before Antoine Lie was therefore difficult. According to the creator:

“We started with the concept that we wanted to find if gold has an odour and we looked for an olfactive expression. I looked at a number of different materials and decided very quickly on Safraline because of its very specific character.”

Safraline is an aromachemical, a molecule produced by Givaudan, derivative of saffron/crocus flower: the latter being a very expensive material due to its difficult picking and handling of the fragrant stemens by hand.

Official notes for 8 88 are: safraline, pepperwood, curcuma, coriander, geranium and amber.

As I sprayed the juice of 888 on my skin I perceived an initial fresh, almost orangey aroma from the coriander, a slight wet pottery whiff with tender sweetness to it that later on cedes to dryness. The opening has the cheery gusto of a sparkling finish on a fashion handbag done in metallics with none of the leather smell that would denote its quality materials or the metallic feel of typical aldehydic or iris fragrances reminiscent of the insides.
In that stage there follows the faint plasticky smell of freshly new DVDs out of their box, an odour so weird as to become instantly memorable for anyone who has had the chance to step into a very new, very big videostore. Some vague spiciness pops in and out, but as it dries down it does so with a woody and ambery character that is subdued and rather feminine, remaining close to the body without overstaying its invitation.
Compared with Safran Troublant by L'artisan parfumeur, 8 88 lacks the round feeling that accounts for much of the pleasure derived out of wearing the former, while at the same time it doesn't offer the jarring and jolting effect that one expects from a Comme des Garcons fragrance. It is pleasant, a little bit boring and very inoffensive; which is really tearing it apart with mild praise, I realise.


The bottle is in the traditional shape of the original CDG fragrance and Man2: the smooth tactile peeble, this time done in gold.
The price was 52 British Pounds for 50ml of eau de parfum concentration last time I checked. It is doubtful whether it will remain the same or rise: they shouldn't ask for its weight for gold, that's for sure.

Pic of 18K gold & tourmalines necklace from personal collection.

Incense week: 6.Solemn, mournful incense for Good Friday

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This day is marked by solemn observations in memory of Jesus' crucifixion. Christians believe that Jesus thus accomplished reconciliation between God and man. Accordingly the crucified image of Jesus or, even the cross itself, came to be regarded as the main symbol of faith for Christians.
Roman Catholics as well as Orthodoxs observe the day through fast and abstinence to commemorate the pains and sufferings Jesus underwent on the cross so it is a day of mourning. The communion of the Eucharist is suspended.

Good Friday first came to be observed as a separate occasion in early 4th century. Before this, an annual celebration was held as Christian Passover, or, Pascha (deriving from the Hebrew Pesach), to mark both Christ's death on Cross and the Resurrection.
Our Lord is crucified. In the iconography of the crucifixion there is a number of people that are often depicted together: three women together with the Theotokos (=mother of god) ~Saint Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children (Matthew 27:56)
Saint John the Beloved Disciple is usually placed right of the cross. While Saint Longinus the Centurion, the Roman centurion mentioned in Saint Mark's Gospel account of the Crucifixion (Mark 15:39) can also be present. There is an inscription on the top bar of the Cross that reads I.N.B.I., the initials of the Greek words meaning "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." While at the foot of the Cross, we can see often a skull because Golgotha, the Mount of the Crucifixion, means 'the place of the skull." Tradition relates that the Cross of Christ stood directly above the grave of Adam.

In orthodox tradition evening service concerns the recounting of the 12 Gospel lessons. The first one, from the Gospel of John (13.21-18), relates the account of the Lord’s discourse with the disciples at the Last Supper. The next ten Gospel readings deal with accounts of the Lord’s sufferings as told by the apostles. The last one gives an account of the Lord’s burial and the sealing of the Tomb. The response after each gospel reading is a variation of the usual one: "Glory to Your forbearance, Lord, Glory to You."
On the morning of the day each church makes its own epitaph bed for the dead Jesus: a cradle of icons and fresh spring flowers that young women have gathered and put on it: in cities and towns these are roses, lilies and freesias. In country churches it is usually lilacs and violets. People come in the church during the morning to pay their respects and the atmosphere is heavy with the heady blooms, head spinning from the incense burning and the flowers exuding their last breaths on the death bed.
In cities the epitaph exits the church on an evening parade to be joined with other epitaph beds from other parishes on a common meeting point, where people gather holding dark yellow beeswax candles as the only source of light, awaiting. The procession comes holding the holy symbols first, the epitaph bed next full of flowers that are sprinkled on the congregation and the mayor’s band last playing solemn funeral marches as people sing the ancient lament “ Oh, my sweet spring”; supposedly the lament of the Virgin Mary for her son on the cross, one of the most beautiful of greek orthodox hymnography, recalling the death of nature and its subsequent resurgence upon spring's awakening.

"Oh my sweet spring, my most sweet child,
where did your beauty set?"
You can listen to it or clicking here. or directly here:



In Salonica the town’s band customarily plays Funeral March by Chopin before that.

It is also usual in country churches to go through an elaborate and mystical procession before reading the twelfth gospel lesson at the evening service. The experience is really hair raising and deeply moving, even if one is not religious. The procession of the holy symbols, the cross and the icons carried on long poles, followed by the epitaph bed, by young people dressed in black exits the church and the great gates are firmly closed. They remain outside until the reading of the twelfth gospel lesson, upon which they knock on the gate representing Jesus knocking on the gates of Death, three times. On each knock a blessing is heard from the priest inside who denies however entrance. Utter silence in the congregation, who is watching solemnly in the cold evening spring air. As the last uttering from the priest inside is heard, the head of the procession opens the gate entering saying in a high voice “Open for the king of life”.

It is also interesting to note one particular custom on the island of Santorini (and other islands on the Aegean): as the up most parts of the isles had fortified villages, “castra”,for fear of pirates pillaging through the land in medieval times, (just like in Pyrgos on said island), those have narrow pathways of winding roads that have only one exit and entrance. On the corners of the streets, up on the barricades, great lanterns and bonfires are lit while every other light is turned off so that the whole village seems to have sprung up from Polanski’s The Ninth Gate. The sight is bewitching and breathtaking…

For such a powerfully symbolic day I chose sad, mournful incense fragrances with a deep floral background to them to reminiscence of all those associations I have with the day.

Avignon by Comme des Garcons: What could be more appropriate, more solemn, more sad and elating at the same time than this completely realistic catholic/orthodox incense smell? Named after the French city in which there was a second Pope instituted after an inside dispute in the Catholic Church in the middle-ages, it evokes phantasms of such a dark time. Full of the aroma of pure frankincense it is redolent of childhood memories of smoke rising from the censers, priests dressed in all black, Byzantine churches hidden under the barricades of an old city-fort and the far away smell of flowers in the night air. Beautifully contemplating, deeply moving, heady in its thickness. It is rather difficult to wear as a personal scent, because of its pungency and potency, at least the ordinary way (spritz, spritz, woosh…) but it can be dabbed a little on hands to make one fit the mood of such a day or sprayed lightly in the room to bring a glimpse of High Mass with them. It represents the pic I chose like nothing else can.

Incensi by Lorenzo Villoresi: A rich and pungent incense scent that is very churchy in a delightful way, laced with sweet and dry notes throughout. Church pews and freshly waxed floors, golden chandeliers and low light reflections on the somber faces on the icons, this is an Italian incense to be sure and it shows. The opening is rather dry with a touch of bergamot and probably elemi, coming to the fore, while the unfolding upon drying down on the skin is full of drama and with a discernible touch of spice in the form of beloved cinnamon and ginger with powdery accents, Incensi floats in the night air like the spell of another world, luring us into a world of mysticism and apocryphal meanings. Although this one has no apparent floral notes, its character reminds me of church processions and the mournful music they’re accompanied with, hence I include it.
The gorgeous blue bottle it comes in is like the window pane of a cathedral, all shine and mystery. Very long lasting, so it is a good investment despite the high price.

Or et Noir by Caron: The predecessor of modern Parfum Sacrι, Or et Noir is a classic Caron that makes no compromises on the challenging accords of must and powder in its rendition of the rose. Opening on a strong note of geranium this is garlanded with intense oily rose, some lilac, spicy carnation and a whisper of incense to render the whole quite close to an epitaph procession, young girls raining tear soaked petals upon the bystanders who whisper blessings along the way.
The name might be a little far-fetched as it is neither gold (Or) nor dark (noir) really compared to other incense fragrances, however its contemplative nature and deep character are very pronounced.
Chanel #22 is also a floral with a hint of incense in the background, but where that one is a light and airy, cheerful, lovely composition, this one is sacred and deep with a much more mature character.
Available only in parfum concentration in the Caron urns (those Baccarat crystal samovars that contain the precious essences) at the boutiques, it is hard to find and maybe challenging to wear for most, however no Good Friday procession would be complete without it.



Pyrocaustic incense for bonfires for our next instalment.
Pic is from the Knights Templar castle that surrounds the medieval city in Rhodes, Greece.

Incense week: 2.Clean incense for Holy Monday

Although not a major celebration, today marks the cleansing of the temple in the Holy City of Jerusalem according to Christian doctrine. This was when Jesus overturned the tables of the moneychangers, saying to them: "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer'; But you make it a den of robbers". [Matthew: 21:13]
Interestingly in orthodox church the theme of Monday is that of the barren fig tree (Matthew 21: 18-20) which yields no fruit and is condemned. It is important to note here that the theme of each day is actually celebrated the evening before in the church service that precedes the day in question, therefore it is the evening service on Palm Sunday that commemorates this while on Monday evening there is celebration of the upcoming Holy Tuesday (hence the Holy Saturday Resurrection service at midnight, which would seem anachronous). However for practical purposes I am keeping the classification according to each day’s original theme.
To revert to the subject at hand, the fig tree is a classic Mediterranean part of flora that is considered a source of shade and food. Highly prized for both, it is a misfortune and a bad omen even from pagan times for the fig trees to be barren. Although in Christian texts the association of the barren fig tree with the land of Israel is something that leaves a bad taste in my mouth because of its intolerant stance toward the older Jewish population, we could take this in its purely literal sense devoid of any parabolic tendencies.
In addition, on Holy Monday the Church commemorates Joseph the Patriarch, the beloved son of Jacob. A major figure in the Old Testament, Joseph’s story is told in the final section of the Book of Genesis. (chapters 37-50).

Therefore the chosen fragrant theme for Monday should be one of cleanness and pureness of subtle wood and shade and just the hint of a promise of fruit to come.

Passage d’enfer by Lartisan parfumeur: Translated as Passage through Hell (you may also come across Road to hell or Gates of hell), but actually just named after the address of L’artisan flagship store in Paris (oh, such a naughty double-entendre), this is an excellent introductory incense for beginners, yet also a joy for more experienced players in the field as well when they want a break from all those serious and solemn types they are attracted to.
Serene and calm it is a fragrance that is very suited to casual wear, because it is light and uncomplicated. Yet that is not meant to imply that it does not hold surprises up its sleeve in typical Olivia Giacobetti’s translucent style.
The initial phase of slightly tart opening is very clean, while the illusion of soapy latheriness continues for some time. The beauty of lily blossom makes an appearance with the promise of lushness that is not fully materialized; however its prominent floral inclusion is a touch of the sublime. Lily is a carnal flower by nature, white waxy petals with a heady smell that suggests pursuits of another nature than the one associated with spirituality and meditation. And it is precisely because of that that Passage d’enfer strikes a cord of genius, as it marries the two antithetical elements of lily and smoky frankincense in heavenly harmony despite its sinful name. In fact it is the beautiful, melancholic visage of an Edgar Allen Poe’s heroine, destined to die like a half-opened bud on a warm summer’s day. It is therefore delicately feminine and very soft.
The impression of a cool soapy note is not alkaline, nor fatty; it is just a hint like the remnants of lightly scented soap on skin and not the actual bar itself, like in some other soapy perfumes. It could also be likened to a just pressed shirt without the laundry chemical aroma clinging to it, though. This renders it eminently wearable in summer and hot weather. Aloewood makes a brief appearance of guest star in the base although you’d be hard pressed to pinpoint it if you didn’t know about it beforehand. The woody touch on a bed of discreet soft musk is really very subtle and the lasting power is a bit less than average: I would love for them to come up with an eau de parfum for this one.
The reason why many people find fault is that lured by the wrongly assumed meaning of the name they expect the vagaries of the sinful which for some not so obscure reason lure and attract people into the notion that by donning such a scent they might graft that excitement of the forbidden into pedestrian lifestyles. If only…
Passage d’enfer only promises to let you glimpse a slice of heaven, really.

Shaal Nur by Etro: If you want fruity notes with your incense fix look no further. Created by Jacques Flori in 1997 for the quirky and luxurious Italian clothes brand Etro it stands alone in the galaxy of incense scents as truly unique. The inclusion of lemon as unlikely a note as it seems in combination with incense is what accounts for this. The first whiff is vaguely reminiscent of Les Nuits d’Hadrien by Goutal in that you are clearly in the presence of hesperidia, unisex in predicament, segueing on to a slightly orientalised composition that is based on a dry rendition of incense. Perhaps the innovation behind this tendency can be traced as back as the legendary Shalimar by Guerlain, which explored the lemon top and the slight incense of the bottom, yet in that gem the inclusion of deep, plush vanilla shifts the focus into powdery rich fluffiness and seduction that it is profoundly lacking here.
Herbal additions such as rosemary and tarragon shift it into unisex territory as well.
The lemony overtone here might be linked to some people’s minds with sharp smelling housecleaning liquids (and I can certainly see some connection), men’s shaving cream or even cheap aftershave. It is not to imply that it is a cheap fragrance, nevertheless it does tend to take a turn for the sour in a manner that is not particularly akin to my skin’s preferences, which could be interpreted any which way you like of course. The sour note lingers through the drying down stages only to be greeted by a smidgeon of vanillic warmth that is not enough to soften it and round it as one would expect. Rose is said to be included, but there is no potent smell of it to my nose, although the impression of sourness might also be attributed to an adverse chemical reaction between rosy notes and my skin: let’s just say we’re not on good terms most of the time. The addition of a rich wood note or a little patchouli might balance the top and heart,although it might divert from the clean route this one is destined for, but to my nose its major fault is simply its lacking in depth. The lasting power is rather nice, about 5-6 hours.
However I could see it being used by people who want a tart unisex smell for freshening up, but do not want to resort to the usual eau de Cologne types or the abundance of fruit salads on the market these days. It does smell individual after all. It is a sore pity the bottle is so nice and the weird colour of the jus so fetching to me, because it does attract the eye to be sure.

Kyoto by Comme des Garcons Incense series: In the classification of clean or woody incenses as the one on which we are focusing today, Kyoto would not be missing for long. Even though it is inspired by far eastern temples, thus bearing no relation to Christian incense collective memory, it is assuredly one of the most tranquil, wearable and popular incense fragrances around and with its strong yet clean character it befits the symbolism of the day well.
The smoky initial phase quickly fades to reveal an intoxicating richness of cedar elaborated to the max. The Virginian variety of cedar used here is a sweeter, less intense version compared to the incensy Atlas variety from Morocco. It is the aroma of freshly sharpened pencils that is so beloved by those who have good school reminiscences. The overall woody character of Kyoto is the protagonist anchored by the smokiness of incense.
This is exactly why this takes such a wearable turn on skin, because it provides just the right balance to make this mysterious enough without ever seeming gloomy or ghoulish. There is a strong calming and grounding effect when I smell this and the inclusion of a subtle grassy vetiver note, maybe a hint of pine and some smooth ambery glow is so fetching as to make me long to be in an eastern temple practicing my Oms. Tall coniferous trees swinging their branches in the breeze, white aromatic smoke emanating from censers. Because of that imagery I envision it as cool weather scent mainly.
Geraniol is maybe a note that makes it smell rather powdery and soft.
Supposedly there is also a coffee note, as well as teakwood in there, but I can swear that these are not what surfaces on skin. I think it has no specific feminine or masculine attributes, however this is one exception in which I would hesitate to call it unisex, simply because the connotation of a eunuch never enters the mind as with most scents of that ambience. It is proudly sexy in a very insouciant, understated way and it is profoundly human and serene.


Next installement is about lush, warm and alluring incense fragrances fit for sinners.

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

Art in perfumery part deux: post-modernism?

In my previous post I elaborated on what constitutes art in perfumery and what criteria must apply for it to be defined as such. Some perfume lines were scrutinised in order to decide whether they deserve the term or not. Considering that some perfumes are in some degree artistically conceived and not merely as a means of generating income for the conglomerates that so often produce the majority of perfume today, the next question would be what style and period of art do they belong to and if post-modernism features in there.

Takashi Murakami Super Dob

According to certain theorists all art can roughly be divided into two extremes: classicism and baroque, styles antithetical to one another and with the consistent habit of succeeding one another through the passing of time.
Nota bene that it is of paramount importance for our purposes further on, though, to differentiate those terms clearly. I do not refer only to their standard definitions regularly used. I use them in a broader artistic sense. Thus by classicism we can not only define the ancient greek and roman art, nor the 18th century genre that mimicked some of those attributes, nor still the things that are generally viewed as “classics” by the layman.
Even within ancient greek art (which one would label classic, without thinking twice about it) the two extremes are inherent; the golden century of Pericles that provided such masterpieces as Diadoumenos was swiftly followed just another century after that by the equally exquisite Hellenistic baroque with Laokoon and the Snakes. Surely these two examples cannot be lumped into the same stylistic technique or aim of the artist. One is calm and sure of itself, relying on perfect harmony and rules. The other is full of expressive agony, imbalance and agitation.


In J.K.Huysman’s English translation of his famous book A rebours/Against the grain (Albert & Charles Boni), Havelock Ellis notes in the introduction that classicism is the subjection of detail to the form, the parts subordinated to the whole; while baroque/decadence is the antithesis of that; the glory of the detail above the whole, the homogenous in Spencerian phraseology becoming heterogeneous. Therefore classicism precedes baroque and can also be considered more “correct” as it has its roots into functionality. (the aim is served by the technique and not the other way around). He goes on to give examples from architecture and literature ( early Gothic is classic, late Gothic is decadent, Hume and Gibbon are classic, Emerson and Carlyle decadent)

I couldn’t agree more, even though I am personally drawn to baroque.
Baroque exalts segmentation over the whole, striving for the virtues of individuality. It tries to make beauty out of imbalance and feeling out of clash. Romanticism is baroque. German expressionism is baroque.

In that respect perfumery can also be seen through this lens; series of classical perfumes in contrast to baroque ones.
Classical perfumes are those that have a smooth balance of notes to serve an idea behind them that unifies the whole into one precise image, one specific aim. In my mind such perfumes are Allure by Chanel or Femme by Rochas. They give out a very balanced precise message. Every chord is serving that message: “like me” for Allure; “ravage me” for Femme. The nuances are there to serve the general purpose, no matter what that latter is.

In contrast there are other perfumes that follow a baroque sensibility, focusing on detail: Bal a Versailles, Angelique Encens, Tubereuse Criminelle are orchestrated in segmented glory in order to make us appreciate every evolving stage and hint at various different messages along the way. Although two of those are considered “classics”, this does not by any means refer to the term already discussed, but rather to their endurance to the passing of trends.

To make this issue contemporary and relevant and not an art history lesson, I have pondered on the art movements of the 20th century from post-impressionism to fauves to cubism to Dada, from modern and post-modern to pop art to Damien Hirst. Again the succession of classical style to baroque continues. Perfumery did not have so many phases as the visual arts, but it did have its fluctuations in style which does not mean they are clearly divided always into “pockets” of style. From the revolutionary modern phase of the late 19th century that produced Jicky and on to the roaring 20’s with their Guerlain Shalimar and Caron Tabac Blond to the 50’s with their lighter aldehydics and feminine chypres, to the 70’s with their emancipated scents or hippy-ish oils, to the opulence of the 80’s and on to the sparseness of the 90’s and full circle to the baroque gourmands of recent years.

However it was a comment by a poster on MUA, named Rhian, who got me into thinking that if the great perfume classics are those created before the 1930’s (the period of modernism in art and also the basis of most revolutionary setting of rules for modern perfumery) what exactly personifies the olfactory post-modernism?
Rhian reminded me of Louis Sass, who in his book Madness and Modernism elaborated on the shared disjunctive narratives, surreal images, and incoherence of both post-modern art and schizophrenia, which is intriguing to say the least.
I personally disagree with John Cage's maxim:

"Emotions do not interest me. Emotions have long been known to be dangerous.
You must free yourself of your likes and dislikes."

In my opinion perfumery is deeply rooted to the physical, being a transportation of the senses, so any cerebral interpretation has to go through this aspect still; we react very viscerally to smell, even though we may *think* about the specific stimulus in a certain way. So yes, in that regard perfumery as a whole could be viewed as an antidote to the mind frame of post-modernism.

"Postmodernist fiction is defined by its temporal disorder, its disregard of
linear narrative, its mingling of fictional forms and its experiments with
language."

according to Barry Lewis referring to Kazuo Ishiguro.

The notion that in order to create a post modern perfume one would have to break down the traditional techniques and shatter every well-received knowledge of the masters of the field in order to create something truly baroque to its core is so difficult to come by, though; since modernism is a classical stylistic means, like we agreed, it would follow that post-modernism should embrace the extreme baroque. Thus I cannot for the life of me get beyond two -or three, at gun point- lines that truly produce such a post-modern product. One of them is Serge Lutens for Les Salons du Palais Royal, who is deeply baroque in the most contemporary way in my mind. The mentholated opening that segues into creamy floral is a very post-modern idea. Ditto the warm ashes in conjunction with cool lavender.
The other line is pushing the envelope even more. It’s Comme des Garcons. If there is truly a post-modernist perfume they (and I refer to Rei Kawakubo by “they”) have certainly been the ones producing it.
From the cloning of dust on a lit lamp to burnt rubber to wash drying in the wind and from the Synthetic series to the Incense series to the Guerilla scents they have succeeded to churn out so many innovative and anti-perfume scents that they have earned the laurels of the rather unwearable but oh-so-revered post-modern perfume. Brava! The case for schizophrenia is not far behind.