Diachronic

During the last couple of weeks I have mainly been wearing two solid perfumes from Aftelier, Muse and Parfum Privé. Wearing perfumes by Mandy Aftel is so different from other perfume experience that I tend to wear them in phases, not mixing with anything else for a few days or weeks.

I am not sure exactly what it is that creates the particular feeling, if it is Mandy's hands or the carefully selected and treated (few) ingredients or like in these two cases - that they are solid. Probably a mix of these aspects. It creates a perfume experience that is just...different. Genuine. It has very little to do with the feeling of applying for example a commercial fashion brand perfume regardless of how nice it would be.

Solids are quite unusual. This is unfortunate, if you ask me, because to me a solid feels more intimate, more integrated with my skin. The application feels sensual and somehow, the word that comes to mind is diachronic. When applying a solid with my fingertips I feel like I am repeating a ritual that has been performed during thousands of years. There is something ceremonial about solid perfume and it evokes that feeling of a bond between scents and health. Like its an ancient ointment that will save and seduce at the same time. Add to this feeling the particular notes in these perfumes: lime, clary sage, labdanum and rosemary absolute in Muse - and bergamot, pink pepper, orange flower, osmanthus, pimento leaf, ambrette and ambergris in Parfum Privé - and you should be able to imagine the combination of sensual base notes and something that feels like it was made to cure practically anything a long time ago.

Could this be made by anyone other than Mandy Aftel? I don't think so. After having read Mandy's book and slowly discovered several of her creations I am starting to see what links them. There is just no other perfume like it. There are many amazing perfumes, but something that has been made by someone so dedicated to their craft, with their hands - becomes unique in the best sense of the word and very real. Dynamic. When I have worn these perfumes I always miss them when they start to fade.

And they make me want to listen to Regina Spektor and learn how to dance like Rachel Brice.

Frangipani

My favorite perfume flower in the garden of The Residence, Mauritius. Beautiful place.

Perfume from your country?

Readers from this blog from South America, Africa and Asia - I would really love to discover perfume brands from your parts of the world! If you have some recommendations or names or links please enlighten me? Send me an e-mail, tweet or post a comment. Thank you!

Perfume jewellery

In 2013, I hope to see more of the perfume related accessories that this past ear has shown some curiosity for. At Pitti Fragranze, an annual perfume fair, it seemed that this is indeed an area that will grow. If it does, it could create a very interesting intersection for perfume and fashion, art and design.

I believe - and hope – that we will see more perfume jewellery. Necklaces with some kind of container, amulets etc are classical pieces that unfortunately seem to have been forgotten. (I love my vintage necklace from Chanel...) It would be interesting to see a contemporary take on such objects, and what other ideas there are out there.

I have found some items such as Aftelier cases and these earrings from Lisa Hoffman.(For vintage lovers go to the auction houses that sometimes have some really exquisite items, or here.) But I am curious to see more of a contemporary twist. A more edgy, avant-garde, rock feeling.

Dutch designer Jody Kocken has created some pieces that I would definitely like to wear. When she discovered that she was allergic to perfume, she looked for solutions that would enable her to still wear a fragrance. She came up with and designed her own solution, ‘Perfume Tools’, a series of industrial jewellery pieces.

The pieces can be attached to the opening of a perfume bottle, the tools then absorbs the scent and work as worn fragrance diffuser. In places where the skin is most vulnerable, the precious metal is warmed up so that the scent can travel. Any skin contact with the perfumed liquid is avoided. This poses some questions of course as we often speak of how the perfume evolves and is affected by a person’s skin. In this case, this dimension is lost. But if the option is to never be able to wear perfume at all – the I think these pieces are an excellent idea. Seeing that quite a lot of people are allergic or sensitive to perfumes, I think all kinds of solutions adapted to this situation are an interesting area to develop. If any perfume maker is reading this I would really love to hear your thoughts on this way of wearing perfume? Are some perfumes more suitable? Can something be done to create perfumes that can compensate the lack of skin exposure?

(All photos from Jody Kocken)

Alive thing… do you like me? Thoughts on Michelangelo, space, perfume and cello.

Today I am wearing Sepia. And I am listening to this (if you don't have Spotify try this), 'How to Organize a Lynch Mob' by Diablo Swing Orchestra. Let me tell you why.

About ten years ago I embarked on a plane to Florence. I had been studying Art History for a year and was profoundly disappointed with courses, teachers and exams that had almost entirely killed my passion for art. I got on that plane with a promise to myself, or two actually: to come home and speak Italian and to restore my love for striking angles, composition and color perfection. After a week or so I found myself on a train from Florence to Venice (ok, first I accidentally got on a train to Napoli but that’s another story) with the mission to see a painting that I had seen on posters on my way to school in Piazza Santo Spirito. Actually, it was not the painting per se that I wanted to see, it was the red color of the scarf that a woman in the painting was wearing. Most of that day was spent going to and then from Florence. I was in Venice just for a couple of hours but I did see the red color and it was one of the best and most important moments of my life. 

But my most mind-altering art experience in those months was not this painting. It was seeing Michelangelos unfinished giants. This experience will always be what really made art part of me and I have no idea if I will ever feel as many intense feelings in relation to art ever again. I hope I will, but I am not sure. Experiencing art is very personal, the places it shakes in our minds, the references it awakens. The exact details of why I was affected aren’t really that relevant to anyone else. But I will share one aspect of it with you and you will understand why I am writing about this here. It is sometimes said that there are two types of sculpturers, those that mold an object into an idea that they have, and those that carve out something that is – or not – in the stone. Michelangelo was one of those that perceived the stone as having its own predefined potential for some shape and he was just the person who brought it out. The giant unfinished statues are an example of this process. The stone did not allow him to do more. Watching them for the first time I was struck by how it was hard to tell the exact place where statue became stone and vice versa. I sensed beauty as well as frustration, strength and pain. I also felt a sort of dynamic that I have rarely perceived. As if the process was ongoing. 

A week or so ago, I received a collection of samples from Mandy Aftel’s Aftelier. I read Mandy’s book of course. Not read, read in the present tense as this is the only way that feels right. I read it slowly, as if I am having a slow conversation with it. I underline, go back, return… I have been curious about Mandy’s perfumes for some time now but in a way that I cannot quite explain, I have been waiting for the right moment to experience them. And I knew that I would know when it came. Because this is something entirely different than most olfactory experiences, and definitely different from most perfume experience.

It will take me some time to try all the samples because I want to get to know them thoroughly. Contemplate, go through different thoughts and pay attention to every detail. I am not sure what I expected. But I will tell you my first impression because it was undeniable and very concrete. I sense the care that has been invested in these perfumes. The thought, the poetry, the hands that have blended them. And then this: they feel alive. Not in some mumbo-jumbo metaphysical strange way. They just feel alive. Like those sculptures. They are not being blended anymore, they have been put in tiny adorable little containers and shipped to Sweden and nothing intervenes with them… but when I put them on my skin I have absolutely no idea what will happen. Or if the same thing will happen the next time I wear one of them. They seem to play with my skin and change constantly and I am not sure if I am choosing the perfume or if it is choosing me. If I am discovering it or if it is discovering me. Of course, I am playing with words here… What I am trying to convey is that feeling of an ongoing process.

A few years ago I worked with a theatre director on his communication and brand platform. He taught me something that has been very valuable and essential to me ever since. Apart from his work with the theatre he held courses and workshops with corporate clients from all sectors using the methods that the theatre uses to create teams. One of his key messages was that an ensemble is not about separate stars, it is about being an ensemble – and that – is created not through the excellence of one person or the other but in the space between the individuals. I think about this often. The importance of space. In communication, in relationships, in creativity. The process is not what is delivered from one point to another, the process is what happens in between. And that process is free, and unpredictable and redefines itself every second. Something happens when I wear Aftelier perfumes, and it just keeps happening for hours.

The piercingly beautiful string arrangement in 'How To Organize a Lynch Mob' with Diablo Swing Orchestra's cello master Johannes Bergion gives me that same feeling. As if it is played live every time I hear it, and I need to listen carefully because next time it might not sound the same. If you ever get to see this band live, cancel all your other plans and go. This ensemble sums up everything I have written tonight with their music.

The art of making something that has been captured... feel constantly unexpected. Space?

Art or not art?

Big blogodrama right now about the exhibit that just opened in NYC, ‘The Art of Scent’ at the Museum of Arts and Design. It is curated by Chandler Burr, and the first museum exhibition dedicated to exploring the design and aesthetics of olfactory art. Burr's high ambitions are impressive. The exhibit is accompanied by numerous activities that cover perspectives from inspiration to pedagogical seminars.

The discussion that has arisen is one that bounces of the very title - is perfume art? What do you think?

Having spent a couple of years with Art History as my major at university and Art Theory in particular, this kind of question makes my skin crawl and gives me goose bumps at the same time. The question "what is Art?" has after all been the source if many many discourses. I have to admit that according to my own perception of what the term incorporates, I do perceive perfume as Art. And I am not sure I see the value of saying that it isn't. Why? Why should it not be art? How does that separation benefit the perfume, the perfumers or the perfume wearer? I don't understand. What is perfume without the art part of the work? Formulas, proportions... But the result is olfactory poetry and sensation. 

Regardless of how you feel about it, I do recommend you to visit the exhibit. We can draw the conclusion after all that it definitely provokes discussion. And the process of perfume creation is seldom open to the public. 

'The Art of Scent' also takes the visitor on a journey to discover how perfume preferences and intentions have changed from Jicky by Aimé Guerlain to today's perfumes. Apart from Jicky perfumes featured are Chanel No. 5 by Ernest Beaux, Aromatics Elixir by Bernard Chant, Angel by Olivier Cresp, Pleasures by Annie Buzantian and Alberto Morillas, Untitled by Daniela Andrier, Drakkar Noir by Pierre Wargnye, L’Eau d’Issey by Jacques Cavallier, cK One by Alberto Morillas and Harry Frémont, and Prada by Carlos Benaïm and Clément Gavarry.

It is noteworthy that The New York Times filed their article on the exhibit under "Art & Design". You'll find the article here. Another really interesting article on "Art & Design" is this one in Huffington Post where Mary Orlin gives all the reasons why this exhibit is relevant in a very stringent and insightful way.

Chandler Burr also had a prominent role at this year's Pitti Fragranze (annual perfume fair in Florence) where much time was dedicated to highlighting the full value chain of perfume production. I like the influence that Mr Burr has on contemporary discourse. A nice example of his perspective can be found in this interview where he also talks about the part of the exhibit in NYC that allows visitors to discover a perfume without knowing which one it is. A great conversation, make a cup of coffee or tea, relax and enjoy it.

November nose

Sorry for the absence. Many projects swirling around in my agenda. Some fantastic perfume projects such as finding the perfect signature scent for a client who wants to smell exactly like she is: unique, creative, boundary-free, interesting, playful, intelligent. Have written two new articles for My French Life that will be published soon. Have had great conversations on perfumes from every angle. Have ordered generous amounts of samples from Gorilla Perfumes and Aftelier that I look forward to experiencing thoroughly.

Amazing Aftelier Alchemy

I have so much to tell you. Just need to collect my thoughts a little. But when I write less here I use Twitter more so why not join me there. I am sylviaz.

In the mean time: embrace autumn wrapped in beautiful base notes and on a tired day reach for the zesty bottles! (I go for Bigarade Concentrée by Ellena for Malle or Byredo's Sunday Cologne).

And remember, the most important rule when searching for your signature perfume:

The smell of snow

When I was very very young my grandmother used to spend the winters with us. Every winter when the first snow fell she would tell me the same thing, "if you rub the first snow of the season onto your cheeks you will be young forever".

A few nights ago I went out for a moment late in the evening and instantly I knew. Entering the house I exclaimed "It smells like snow!". Even in such a northern place as Stockholm this is a statement that is not taken seriously in the middle of October.

But then yesterday evening, there it was.

How snow smells? Sweet. Wet. Naked. Young. Secret. Sleek. Light. Transient.

Vetiver Tonka & The Great Elegance

I find it interesting that of all the Hermessence fragrances it seems quite apparent that Vetiver Tonka is the most popular one. Not so surprised that many would like it because it is really sublime, but rather perhaps that it makes so many different types of personalities feel really comfortable in it. Personally, I find it extra-ordinary so I am definitely one of the fans. I love having this fragrance on me. It is so elegant and so well-balanced in its presence. But not only that, it is also a fragrance with a lot of integrity and definitely has a little playful or mysterious twist. Maybe it is that perfect mix of extremely being comfortable but also unusual that makes it attractive so many of those who try it. It is not very famous though, outside perfumista circles.

Photo of Jean-Claude Ellena from WSJ

Some facts. Vetiver Tonka was created in 2004, and by Jean-Claude Ellena naturally. In an earlier post on vetiver, I mentioned that one of the things that make it so interesting is how different one vetiver is from another. (If you want an example, find a sample of Vetiver Tonka and one of Le Labo’s Vetiver and you will experience the versatility of vetiver). Not only because of what it is combined with and how it is used in the composition of a fragrance, but also depending on its origin. I find it a fascinating note, vetiver is to me full of contradiction and has a strange kind of depth, tension and coarseness that makes me think of traveling and in particular taking the taxi from the airport late at night in an unknown place and then driving through landscapes that smell of a cool sky but a hot ground. I have no idea exactly where this idea comes from, what specific situation or place but that’s how I feel about vetiver.

In Vetiver Tonka, after The Great Zest that introduces it, the vetiver is wrapped in a soft cashmere hue created by the tonka bean. Some describe the tonka as adding an almost gourmand aspect to this perfume but I don’t feel that at all. On my skin it never becomes really sweet. It just lingers playing its textures. And it’s just so very sophisticated. 

"Odor is a word, perfume is literature." 

Jean-Claude Elena

Rose Ikebana

I love a good challenge so I went from Vetiver Tonka to Rose Ikebana. A contrast, to say the least. (The attentive reader of this blog will note that my last post was not about Vetiver Tonka but about Poivre Samarcande. I am not ready with Vetiver Tonka yet, there is too much to think and say about it... To be continued.)

Hermessence is a shared line, but I do find it hard to imagine Rose Ikebana on a man's skin. However, I realize that there are certainly male skins and male characters that would bring other aspects out of this fragrance than the ones that appear for me on me. This is a sad thing to confess, but I have yet to find a rose that gets along with me. I can see the sensuality that rose creates on others, both men and women, but on me it just feels awkward. I want the fresh dewy petal but I get soap. I want the soft velvety texture but I just feel Laura Ashley and English cottage. I want the iconic romance but I just get the cliché. But I am not prepared to give up. Rose Ikebana is not for me though. But I would love to meet someone who wears it in a way that makes the fragrance expose all its nuances.

But enough about me and back to the fragrance. Rose Ikebana has notes of rose tea, infusion of petals, peony, magnolia, pink peppercorn, zest of grapefruit, rhubarb and vanilla honey. Ellena described it saying that it "was created to reflect the touch of silk on the skin". He wanted to capture the contrast of rose petal and crisp rhubarb, a very lovely idea. Ellena looked to the Japanese art of Ikebana, a minimalist way of arranging flowers, for structure and inspiration.

The liaison between the aesthetics of Ikebana and Ellena fragrances is obvious. The focus, the stringent presentation of notes.

Rose Ikebana has a lovely sheer innocence about it. It allows a kiss on the cheek but not more. It also refuses to present itself fully to me, so I am quite curious to hear someone else's divergent thoughts. Also it makes me feel like reading 'The Tale of Genji'.