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SmellyBlog

Jasmine & Cantaloupe

Cantaloupe

When visiting Grasse in spring 2009, I was intrigued by Salade de melon et jambon de Parme
 (AKA Prosciutto e Melone - a simple carpaccio dish that seemed rather alluring even to my eternal vegetarian-born-and-raised palate. Thin slices of cured ham were layered flat on a plate, and wedges of cantaloupe arranged on top. It seemed so odd to me to pair something so meaty and brown with something so vividly orange and juicy. But, living vicariously through the carnivore boyfriend I had at the time, I gathered that the magic lay in the contrast between the saltiness of the prosciutto and the fragrant sweetness of cantaloupe - not unlike the Balkan signature pairing of crispy sweet watermelon with creamy and heavily brined feta cheese.

Later research into the matter also informed me that pork has a coconut, peach and apricot-like notes to it from lactones, which makes it so suitable for pairing with fruit as well as certain fruity white wines or lightly oaked reds. Vegetarians may enjoy a somewhat similar experience by savouring tiny cubes of well-aged Pecorino Romano with abovementioned cantaloupe; or if you want to go overboard, find yourself a coconut-gouda and watch out for exploding tastebuds. And since we are on the topic of coconut, vegans can also enjoy the coconut and cantaloupe contrast by sprinkling fine coconut flakes on their melon; or toasted coconut curls for an even more decadent experience.

Prosciutto e melone

While in Grasse, I had the pleasure and honour to meet with Michel Roudnistka - a multi sensory and visual artist (photographer, perfumer and filmmaker who combined his videos into a film that is accompanied by five difference ambient fragrances, each for a different indigenous culture around the world), and that is when I firs experienced his magnificent perfume Emotionelle, which he created for Parfums DelRae in San Francisco. How does Emotionelle smell?

Picture this in ripe, juicy, room-temperatured cantaloupe in your mouth, with a full-bodied flavour filling your entire palate:

Crisp Cantaloupe
Suddenlly and immediately, you are interrupted by more than a whiff of this indolic jasmine:
Grasse jasmine
That is the basis for Emotiomelle, the main structure upon a complete, original and unusual perfume is built. One could argue the source for this pairing is in Le Parfum de Thérèse (which the perfumer's father created for his mother), or Diorella. However, the other two had melon, not cantaloupe. And that is a huge difference. As far as influence goes, I would suspect that a new cantaloupe molecule or base was invented that year in one of the Grasse houses, because both Emotionelle and Un Jardin Après la Mousson (which pairs this very cantaloupe note with more bracing, chilled spice notes and cooling vetiver) were released the year prior (2008).

Emotionelle opens with a big, ripe, juicy cantaloupe note and is paired with sultry jasmine and sweet violets. It’s hard to believe these will get along, but they sure do. The key is in the balancing of the animalic indole in the jasmine with softly-blended, oily violet, musk and cedar notes, almost like pastel crayons smeared with a persistent finger to create a bold picture with loud colours yet with very soft texture.

The result is magical, even if a little disturbing, like striking the right chord in the right time. After all, we are talking about pairing something very edible, with something very floral and animalic. To me Emotionelle is very sexy, sensual. I like the fact that it's a distinctive tricolour - with cantaloupe, jasmine and violet being in the centre at all times. There is a complexity and tension that all three bring to the composition, but there are also other subtle layers underneath that keep it from being too simplistic and ordinary. Those who yell "cantaloupe" and dismiss it (most of the reviews I read, actually) miss the entire point. There are many composition styles, and Michel Roudnitska's is one that takes a theme and goes all the way with it. It's also what I smell in Noir Epices: it's very bold combination of geranium, cloves, orange and cinnamon. But it's brining a new, modern meaning to the ages-old pomander scent (the root of all Oriental-Spicy scents, if you ask me) - by not trying to play it quieter, but rather amplifying the seeming dissonance between those notes. Those who pay attention will find it actually humorous, playful and at the same time sophisticated. In the case of Emotionelle this is achieved with low dosage of musk to offset the animalic indole; cedar wood to substantiate the ionones; and warm, sweet notes of honey, amber and labdanum to deepen the sweetness of the cantaloup, with tiny sparkling of spices (cloves, cinnamon) for a bit of warmth and dimension.

Cantaloupe

To me this perfume will forever remind of Southern France and in particular Grasse, and the visit to Michel's studio and home in Cabris where I first smelled Emotionelle. There was an osmo-art (multi sensory film) projected in one of the room of the MIP (Musée International de la Parfumerie, AKA International Perfume Museum) of which an image of a ladybug crawling along a split cantaloupe was the olfactory if not visual highlight. And lastly, the cantaloupe in the above photo is one I bought and ate there, in its entirety, one afternoon. I didn't have a big enough refrigerator in my hotel room there, so I had to eat most of it room-temperature (which is actually delicious, by the way: it makes the fragrance more apparent than when chilled). It is the perfume of a hot spring day up on the mountainous Alpes-Maritimes-Cote d'Azur, where the sun shines generously, people are warm and hospitable, life is slowly savoured with the people you love, lunch breaks span over two hours minimum, and an afternoon siesta to follow is not a bad idea at all, especially when the room is permeated with a fragrant cantaloupe.



Top notes: Cantalupe, Tangerine, Bergamot, Ylang Ylang, Prune
Heart notes: Jasmine, Violet Flower, Violet Leaf, Rose, Cinnamon, Honey
Base notes: Vanilla, Cedarwood, Cloves, Patchouli, Musk, Amber, Labdanum

Scents That Sing "Spring!"

What scents or smells make you so ecstatically happy that you want to sing out loud or jump up and down with joy?
I asked 13 other bloggers to help me answer this question and share with you our picks for perfumes to wear this spring. Scents that could make you feel giddy, cheerful and excited about life again. And my list includes 8 staples that I seem to return to for several years now and never fail to bring a smile to my face and a song to my heart.

I tried my best to bring you a list that has no melancholy in it whatsoever; but some of the scents have an inevitable touch of that emotion in them. And come to think of it, spring does too, because the flowers, as beautiful as they are in full bloom, only bring their very own death upon themselves by exhaling all their beauty in one powerful breath in this short, abrupt season exploding with life.

The perfumes that I find a little melancholy usually have a little powdery, bittersweet character (usually an effect that can be easily blamed on the presence of coumarin in some shape or form). Whenever these are mentioned, they will be accompanied with an asterisks, just so that you are properly warned (in case you are looking for a 100% cheerful spring).

Jasmine
Jasmine absolute, and, of course - fresh jasmine flowers of any kind, bring an immediate smile to my face. The bushes are usually dormant in winter, but come spring and warmth and they start building up their stash of star-shaped flowers that will reach its peak in the heat of the summer. There are so many jasmine scents that I love, but the ones that I associate and wear in the spring are Le Parfum de Thérèse, which I have come to associate with the season and with Passovers in Israel, because it’s when I worn it and fell in love with it first; and also because it’s so hot there at this time of the year that the balance between jasmine, basil and under ripe plum and melon is nearly the only thing I can wear there. When I have to stay in Vancouver in Passover I wear it to remind me of the happy times at home; and it also takes me through summer bringing a smile to my face every single time I smell it, no matter what the occasion or mood I’m in.

Citrus Orchards in Bloom
There is no scent with so much unconditional happiness in my mind as orchards in full bloom. The blossoms begin sometimes in March, and continues through April, usually coinciding with the celebration of Passover. I am still wondering why there is no citrus flower holiday in Israel. They really should make a Hanami festival of sorts out of it, but they don’t. Instead, the day after Passover has become a day of barbecue picnics that if anything mask the scent of any orange blossoms on the horizon. But that’s for another story…
The best way to experience orange blossoms is to be around then. If you live out of the citrus growing zone like me, you can forget about it unless you travel to a citrus destination. Because I can’t always travel to smell the orange blossoms, I created Zohar,
Another way for me to overcome that home-sickness is sipping on pomelo-blossom tea, a rare green tea that was perfumed in the same technique that jasmine green tea is made, by layering petals of pomelo flowers between the tea leaves and removing them once they’ve exhaled all their fragrant breath onto the tea. As a matter of fact, I’m sipping this very tea as I write it, and it transports me to my family’s orchard, early in the morning, when the shapely pomelo petals are still covered with dew and just begin to open and give away their clean, heady scent. And a far more modern and synthetic orange blossom associated scent that has become a spring stable is Narcisso Rodriguez, which is mostly by pure incident (because it barely smells like orange blossom at all), because I worn it in the springtime in one of my most fun spring travels to Israel as well.

Ume (Japanese Plum) Blossoms
It literally took me years to discover the scent of Vancouver’s spring. The most significant and emotionally charged is the scent of the ume (Japanese plum) blossoms. Ume blossoms are smaller and have only one layer of petals. They have a peculiar wildflower-like scent, very ethereal and heady, and at the same time a little powdery and bittersweet. It is more apparent on warmer days; so when early spring is rainy and gray, you can hardly notice their scent in the air.

The sakura (Japanese cherry) blossoms grow in clusters, and are way more showy and impressive looking (especially the ones that have multilayered petals like roses), but they are far less fragrant if at all.

Ume blossoms bloom earlier, usually beginning in January and on till March (depending on the temperatures, of course), and grace the street corner where I live. The ume and sakura blossoms make Vancouver a place worth staying in the springtime, and my only consolation for missing the orchards of Israel when I can’t go there. Inspired by these blossoms (and the Ezra Pound poem) I created Hanami*, which is what I wear almost exclusively throughout the hanami season in Vancouver. Another taste of it can be experienced if you eat sakuramochi at room temperature. The pickled cherry leaf that wraps this pastry adds this peculiar, flowery and bittersweet aroma to the red bean paste filling, and I know for a fact it has coumarin in it.

Fresh Freesias
I visit the florist regularly to get a fresh supply of freesias. I pick them based on their scent rather than their looks: the most fragrant will go home with me, and these are either white (which is more peppery) or yellow (slightly more full-bodied and fruity). I sniff each bouquet till I find the one… And I also have a favourite freesia perfume: Ofresia by Diptyque, created by the world renowned nose Olivia Giacobetti. This freesia perfectly balances the freshly ground green pepper scent of freesias with a little with no sharpness, and some sweetness in the base to make it addictive.


Lilies of the Valley
Other fresh flowers that are more rare to come by are lilies of the valley: they bloom in the spring, usually in May (this year I was lucky to find some in March, but they are gone again and should return in May as the florist informed me). I rarely see them in gardens, and when I do they look quite miserable (but smell heavenly just the same).

Diorissimo is the best lily of the valley scent in the universe that is not the fresh flower. But it’s more than just a lily of the valley soliflore – Edmon Roudnitska himself said he wanted to capture the scent of the little flowers as well as their surroundings, and even went to the extent of planting a patch of lily of the valley in his garden to study them. Diorissimo is particularly gorgeous in the parfum extrait formulation that I have from 10 years ago, where the oakmoss peeks through like the undergrowth of the forest environment of the lilies, and boronia, galbanum, jasmine and rose make the centre of the perfume vivid.

Lilacs
Now, this is not a scent without any melancholy attached to it. I have a sprig of lilac by my table and the real flower has more complexity to it than what we’ve been trained to think of as “lilac”. Besides the very high level of the light, woody-floral linalool that accounts in part for its cleanliness, the lilac on hand has a balsamic-sweet styrax undertone. It’s rare to find lilac scents that don’t smell like bathroom freshener’s or an old maid’s talcum powder; but two perfumes that I’ve met come very close to capturing the real scent plus adding a very personal spin to the theme:
Olivia Gioacobetti’s En Passant*, in which green cucumber and ink-like and starchy wheat add a contemplative, cool mist of lilac clusters; and Ineke Ruhland’s After My Own Heart*, where raspberry and heliotropin bring a lighthearted, romantic sweetness of girly scented stationary.

Mimosa
Scent that traveled from Australia to Provence and the Middle east, mimosas have an invisible wildflower scent that is heady and light and woody, with a little cucuber-coolness to it. My favourite mimosa are light and refreshing: L’Artisan Parfumeur’s Mimosa Pour Moi and my own Les Nuages de Joie Jaune. which literally means “clouds of yellow happiness.

Magnolia
After the cherry blossoms, magnolias have become almost a symbol of Vancouver in spring. There are so many trees and varieties, it would be difficult to describe all of them here. The two significant differences are white versus the pink ones. The white ones are very light and airy and almost woody-clean, as well as fruity like peach. The pink ones can be fruity, but sometimes they are very heady and turn almost wine-like and spicy (but not like mulled wine!). My favourite spring scent with magnolias in it is Opium Fleur de Shanghai. Again, this is by association, because this light summer-version (limited edition, unfortunately, like all of them), came out in the springtime. It just so happened to be in a very happy spring for me, and I worn it every day for several month. The magnolia is very distinct (and quite rarely used in perfumes in such concentration) and beautifully balanced with the resinous bitterness of myrrh, the sweetness of peru balsam oil and the spiciness of cloves. It’s luxurious and light and very easy to wear.

Spearmint & Lemon Verbena
Fresh herbs from the garden give me a sense of well-being, and my favourite of them all are lemon verbena and spearmint. I love picking these fresh and brew them into a delicate tisane together, sometimes also with lemongrass added. Moroccan mint tea is another favourite – with either green or black tea, fresh sprigs of spearmint, and generous dose of sugar (though not as generous as the Moroccans serve it with), perhaps even with a sprinkle of orange flower water!
One of the treats I serve to guests at my studio is my original Charisma tea blend, which is jasmine green tea with dried osmanthus flowers, fresh lemon verbena, lemongrass and spearmint from my balcony’s herb garden. In the wintertime I serve a modified blend with the dried herbs (most of which were hand-picked and dried by my loving mother). And for those of you too faraway to visit, Dawna have created for me an even more sophisticated version of a fine pomello blossom tea with the same dry fragrant herbs and osmanthus flowers.

Verbena and spearmint are those notes which I love in real life but less so in perfume. An exception is Spring Flower, which has a mint note and is another perfume that never fails to make me feel happy. I have nearly run out of an entire bottle, which says a lot.

Cantaloupe
Last year I spent a lazy afternoon in my hotel room in Grasse with a cantaloupe… I know, this does not sound good. But I assure you, even though it was only the two of us, nothing happened that afternoon behind those closed doors… Except that I couldn’t get enough of the fragrance that filled the room. Which is exactly why I took my time before slashing it open with the knife I bought for that purpose only. As it turns out (a couple of days later), This cantaloupe was not only the most fragrant, but also the most delicious, juicy and beautiful fruit ever.
Another cantaloupe encounter that trip was with Michel Roudnitska’s Emotionelle, a beautiful and sophisticated perfume centered around jasmine, violet and overripe cantaloupe.

Ayala’s Spring Essentials:
Le Parfum de Thérèse
Diorissimo
Emotionelle
Vanille Galante
Zohar
Hanami
Spring Flower
Opium Fleur de Shanghai
Narcisso Rodriguez for Her (EdT)
Ofresia

Leave a comment sharing with us your spring staples, or any scents and notes that bring a smile on your face, and enter to win one of these prizes:
1) Mini parfum of Zohar
2) Tin of Charism Tea
3) TBA

Participating blogs:
Katie Puckrik Smells
Perfume Shrine
The Non Blonde
I Smell Therefore I Am
Notes from the Ledge
Scent Hive
Savvy Thinker
Roxana's Illuminated Journal
Perfume in Progress
All I Am A Redhead
Ambre Gris
Olfactarama
A Rose Beyond the Thames

Best of 2009


Oh, what a year! It was definitely a good year for perfumery, with many new perfumes that are worth writing about. 2009 was also an overwhelmingly busy year for me in every possible way - both professionally and personally. A lot of work, a lot of travel and a lot of change. I can't say that I had a chance to test even a minuscule amount of the many fragrances that came out this year. The opposite problem from last year, when I had to scrape the bottom of my memory to put together a list...

Favourite New Perfume:
Si Lolita. I enjoy every sweet pea and spice moment it has to offer. I think I will be running out of this one about as fast as I did with L from the same house. The elemi note in here is so wonderful!

Funnest packaging:
Si Lolita. Excuse my repetition but it’s true. The bottle is whimsical,


Best Sequel of the Year:

I was intentionally ignoring those, so no comments this year. I find it disconcerting that the Harajuku Lovers Snow Bunnies smell the same but have different outfits. I think that’s outrageous.

The Classic Discovery of the Year:
Eau d’Hermes. With its sultry, slightly salty culinary cumin and lemon on top of immortelle and jasmine this scent refreshingly unique and timeless.


Favourite New Niche Perfume of the Year:
Emotionelle by Michel Roudnitska, has a gorgeous melon or rather cantaloupe note paired with sultry jasmine and sensual violets. It’s hard to believe these will get along, but they sure do. And the result is magical, a little disturbing, like striking the right chord in the right time. It reminds me of the warm sun settling in the west after a hot spring day in Southern France.


I also really enjoyed Champaca Absolute, even though I find it a tad too artificial to my taste. But it certainly made 2009 more bright and cheerful.

And than of course there’s also Manoumalia, which won my heart long ago when the year has just began…

Note of the year:
Cantaloupe. It keeps attacking me from every possible direction, and every time I fall in love with it again. I’m yet to post a full blog about it and why this all happened, but it has a lot to do with my visit to Grasse in May.
The other note I paid more attention to this year which I also work with is tobacco. I love it and am glad to find more layers to it than I have before – both when formulating with it and when experiencing it in perfumes. I enjoyed a few tobacco scents this year - Gabriel's Aunt Bohem candle, Tabac Aurea by Sonoma Scent Studio and Field Notes from Paris by Ineke.


The Surprise of the Year:
Hermèssence Vanille Galante. Who would have thought that a scent with such a name will smell like lilies, cantaloupe and salted caramel?! I thoroughly love it.

The Re-Discovery of the Year:
I absolutely love Bois des Iles. I worn it a lot this year, and it is more versatile than I imagined.

This Year's Change-of-Heart:
Clary sage. I used to not be able to stand this note and now, after shaking hands with it in person in Grasse, France I noticed its similarity to bergamot and tea, I am truly enjoying smelling it on its own and working it into some of my compositions.


Ambivalent Entries:
This year there are a few new scents I can't decide how I feel about - I swing from loving them to feeling ambivalent or disappointed.

Sweet Lime & Cedar Smells either exotically fresh and invigorating with the kaffir lime, coconut and cedar; or too artificial, tame and Westernized with the gardenia and musk taking over, as if shutting the kaffir lime notes so they don't get too weird.

Private Collection Jasmine White Moss first smelled amazing, like an old classic expansive fresh-chypre; but than smelled too flat and synthetic. A few more wearing will seal my final verdict.

A Scent by Issey Miyake is a little odd, and has something special about it. It is how I would imagine a tea garden to smell at the top of a mountain. But than it also smells quite sharp, too sharp; or other times it feels too floral and perfumey... I still can't decide if I like it or not. And I feel the same way about the bottle - it's clean-cut but also a little too cold and crude.

Celebrity Fragrance Release:
I was conveniently ignoring those most of the year. But I did enjoy Sarah Jessica Parker’s Twilight. An ambery floral, with an incense and frangipani feel to it. It’s warm and diffusive and a little too synthetic to my taste. Yet I wish it was launched on its own to get more attention rather than along with those two generic meh scents it was surrounded with (and probably were a lot more popular too).

Favourite New Natural Perfume:
Scent Systems’ Oeillet was launched in 2006. But I didn’t try it till this year, so to me it’s completely new. I’m mentnioning it here because I think it’s one of the most stunning natural perfumes that can be found in the world today. Dusky, salty and sensuous in a surprising way and nothing like what you’d expect from a scent that has the name carnation all over it.

I also quite enjoyed Demeter's Vintage Naturals, even though none was extremely surprising or original they were all well-done. My picks would be Vintage Naturals Mimosa, which is more of a white floral; and Vintage Naturals Geranium.

Favourite New Perfume for Men:
Field Notes from Paris by Ineke, although it is just as gorgeous on a woman (I love wearing it myself) is the best new scent that men can enjoy from this year releases.

The Ugly Duckling of the Year:
Cannabis Rose by Fresh. It's not as pretty as its sisters from the same genre (Narciso Rodriguez for Her or Lovely), but it has an edge to it. It's interesting and it's more patchouli than rose.

The Disappointment(s) of the Year:
Coming back from Paris only to discover that my Sous la Vent bottle cracked… Thankfully, I was able to save the jus.

As far as perfume releases go, I was disappointed of
Narcisso Rodriguez’ Essence, which comes in a disturbingly intriguing bottle but smells like an old aldehydic fragrance that was stuck on the shelves for too long.

Also, Nuit de Cellophane turned out to smell like shampoo, rather than osmanthus. But my Japanese friends told me that osmanthus in bloom smells kind-of artificial actually… Yet in a most beautiful way. I am yet to discover this for myself.

Favourite Scented Body Product:
J.R. Watkins Lemon Cream smells like lemon wafers and is rich and smooth yet fast absorbing. The shea butter gives it a heavenly quality. And did I mention that the scent is just to die for?
I’m also still smitten with the summery Terracotta Eau Sous La Vent
And last but not least - Velvet & Sweetpea's Tuberose & Gardenia Whipped Body Frosting, hand-whipped by Laurie Stern herself.

Best Organic Skin-Care Line:
New Zealand based Carol Priest creates hand-made organic skin care that has the right consistency, texture and scent. I’m particularly enamoured with a few of them. The lavender and active manuka honey facial cleanser leaves the skin soft and seems to melt away make up residues. The rosehip and vitamin E regenerative night cream is rich but easily absorbed into the skin and although it does not seem to have an impressive scent from the jar, it turns into a wonderful Melissa (lemon balm) scent once applied to the face, which helps me fall asleep… The jasmine floral tonic water spray is cheerfully refreshing, and the marshmallow root day cream
which smells beautifully of jasmine as well. The line is free of parabens and synthetic chemicals, and mostly seems to be scented with pure essential oils only (I’m a little confused about a couple of the products which indicate “fragrance” as an ingredient – the rose body lotion is one example).

Favourite Scented Candle:

I’m partial to my own candle line (Bois d’Hiver in the winter time and ArbitRary in the summer time). This year, Gabriel’s Aunt Lemon Bar by Gabriel’s Aunt (who also hand-pours my own candles) captured my attention and satisfied my eternal craving for buttery lemon wafers (here we go again!).


Promising new line:
Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Scents I wish I tried but haven’t yet:
Two new agarwood fragrances: Aoud Leather by Montale and Soivohle’s all-natural Oudh Lacquer (and a few others by Liz Zorn). The list goes on with Ormonde Jayne's Tiare and Andy Tauer's Un Rose Chyprée.

Most Fabulous Fragrant Moment this Year:

Sitting among the roses awaiting distillation in the rose fields' extraction plant in Grasse, France.

Most worn this year:

Bois des Iles
Le Parfum de Therese
Si Lolita
Un Jardin Apres la Mousson
Aveda Key Element Fire No. 3
And my own Hanami and Les Nuages de Joie Jaune in the spring, and Espionage and Ayalitta in the fall.

Read the best of the best for 2009 lists of other participating blogs:

Perfume Shrine

Mossy Loomings

1000fragrances

Bittergrace Notes

Shoes,cake,perfume

Scent Hive

Eiderdown Press Journal

Olfactarama

Roxana’s Illuminated Journal

A Rose Beyond the Thames

The Non Blonde

Notes from the Ledge

Under the Cupola

All I am a Redhead

Perfume In Progress

Savvy Thinker

I Smell Therefore I Am

After the Rose Fields

Roudnitska Garden

“Je ferai fleurir les pierres et chanter les oiseaux”
(I will let the rocks bloom and the birds sing)

I’ve never really got around to tell you what I did after the rose fields. I will now.

The taxi picked me up from the gate of GIP. It was driven by a lady shauffer, and as soon as I’ve given her the address, she jumped out of the taxi to ask another driver for advice on the route – revealing an attire that most women I know would reserve for a night at the concert hall listening to chamber music or contemplative choir pieces: a black buttoned shirt and a silver brocade skirt with a floral pattern.

On the way I have to admit, I was getting a little nervous. I was about to meet someone whose work and knowledge I admired greatly.

We drove to Carbis, about 20 mintues away from Grasse (traffic permitting) and she pulled off the freeway. There it was, and a metallic art-nuveau sign confirmed I was in the right place. It read: “Atelier Art et Parfum”.

I was a little early for my meeting and the place seemed so quiet it almost seemed as if its inhabitants were having a siesta. I finally found the courage to knock on a little door that had an office sign on it and a lady opened it and told me quietly that Michel will meet me shortly. I noticed an olive tree near the building. I pulled out my camera and than and there my battery, which struggled with death for a few days now finally gave in. This photo you see above is the last of them, which is great – because this way I could focus my attention entirely on my real senses without the camera to “remember” instead of me. Besides – Michel is a far more talented photographer than I, and have captured the beautiful garden that his father has planted and you can find his photographs online.

Now, Michel came down the stairs from the top floor of the Atelier. He was tall and pensive, just like the olive tree I didn’t take photo of, and was just as kind in person as he always seemed in his correspondence and photographs. We walked down the road and a lower level on the other side of the building revealed a lab full of bottles and drums of raw materials; and below it was the garden.

The garden was like no other garden in the world. Parts of it looked like a Japanese garden, and other parts like an the exterior of an Italian villa. The most magical point though, was standing right in front of a little patch of green leaves, which I knew right away were those of lily of the valley. Seeing them, even after the blossoms dried out, made my heart skip a beat.

The flowers were all gone (it was already the middle of May, and these plants need the most tender weather conditions to bloom – it was already too dry by then…). Nevertheless, there was nothing quite more powerful than staring at the patch of green leaves where Edmond Roudnitska planted while he was creating Diorissimo – which was the perfume I worn on my wedding day and one of the very first perfumes I’ve worn. It is told that he would crouch to the ground to study the scent of the flowers in their real surrounding – the dirt, leaves, moss and rocks on the ground… And there I am, standing next to no other then Michel Roudnitska, an accomplished visual and olfactory artist that continued his father’s yet has his very own, unique voice both artistically and from a perfumery point of view.

After we walked around the garden and saw the view of Grasse from Cabris, we went upstairs into the atelier, and sat on the balcony sipping orange juice and discussing what most concerned European perfumers at the time, and the rest of the world would suffer from after – the takeover of our art form by the EU beaurocracy, IFRA and the like. It is so sad to think that oils such as bergamot and oakmoss can no longer smell true to themselves after removing the “allergenic” molecule in them, which are an important part of their odour profile. With all the heaviness of the issue, it was clear to me that although this could make continuing the use of many beautiful natural raw materials in commercial perfumes, the human need to adorn themselves and their environment with pure, beautiful scents will continue, and while the legalities of it may become more complex and cumbersome, people will continue to want to smell good and connect with nature through her smells as they did for thousands of years.

On the mention of Michel’s artwork combining perfume with film, Michel spontaneously offered to screen some of them just for me. We walked to his home, which is right next door to the atelier and facing the beautiful Italian pond and sculpture. On the coffee table there just happen to be a few scent strips with a perfume in progress, which was beautiful, and had a dominant immortelle note (it was in Grasse that immortelle all of a sudden showed its versatile, albeit stubborn side to me, i.e. – beyond maple syrup). And that was also when I first got to smell Eau Emotionelle – a bold, beautiful jasmine contrasted with juicy cantaloupe and delicate violet petals. While preparing for the screening, Michel was also telling me about the vigorous perfumery training that he underwent with his father.

And then the private movie screening began… Michel was both the projector man and the senteur of his own creations. I was shown three pieces out of his 8 short films that make Un Monde En Senteurs (Wolrd Scents), each accompanied by a perfume that is misted in intervals into the atmosphere of the theatre (in this case – Michel’s study within his own home).
http://www.art-et-parfum.com/mondensenteurus.htm
I’ve been fortunate enough to be shown three amazing pieces:
Pangaea – Creation of the World Aboriginal Culture, which was showing imagery of Australia’s nature and aboriginal people, and was scented by a completely natural perfumer that was made entirely of plant essences native to Australia, such as eucalyptus, fire tree and what smelled to me like Buddha wood. I’m no eucalyptus fan, and this film and perfume alone made me not only intrigued by this strange, medicinal plant, but also curious for the first time about Australia’s nature and culture. It was so touching to experience both the scent and the visuals, as well as emotionally charged music (composed by Nathalie Manser).

The second film was called Aquarium – and was visually focused on the Polynesian lagoons and underwater life, beginning with what looked like a perfectly shaped shimmering pearl, and had beautiful flowing movement of dolphins throughout it. The scent for this was dominated by calone and coconut and I have to admit I did not feel too well smelling it and starting coughing a bit… The fragrance is described as “Salty sea-mist on the reefs and dried coprah in the coconut grove” on Atelier Art et Parfum’s website.

The third chapter in the world’s scented story was called Cherokee – and was about the Native Americans in North America. While I expected smoking sage, cedar and sweetgass, It smelled very incensey, rich woody and a little smoky - described as Cedar forests, tujas and tanned hides (Beaver, bear, buffalo).

And like all wonderful things, the visit came to an end with this vignette, and Michel drove me back to Grasse to my hotel and the next day I was back in school “as usual” but felt inspired for months to come.
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