I imagine that this is what Alice in Wonderland has experienced when she opened the bottle that said “drink me”. Succession of decadence pours effortlessly out of Un Crime Exotique, as if the occident and the orient have simultaneously decided to pack their most refined treats into one little bottle, with an endless supply of surreal liquid fantasy.
Star-anise infused pastries. Madeleine steeped in steamed milk. Dim-sum sponge cake soaked with jasmine tea. Gingerbread baking in the oven. Black sesame and honey. Osmanthus incense burning and Japanese body incense sprinkled on a sleepy skin with penetrating camphor and sweet cinnamon and vanilla. Milky bubble tea.
This is a comfort scent if there ever was one. Soft, soothing, mysterious, imaginative and like no other. Uncork that bottle and experience a stream of pouring thick lactonic vapour, floating above, transporting me to a place where there are no worries and only rewards, only tea and desserts and none of the savoury prerequisites. Truly an (exotic) crime.
Notes: Chinese Osmanthus, Gingerbread, Tea, Cinnamon, Star anise, Mate Absolute, Vanilla Sugar, South Sea Island Sandalwood
Sève Exquise transports me to a field of green scattered with wild flowers and surrounded by blooming cottonwood trees. Sunshine warms my heart and steeps out the aromas of spring floral into the air like tea.
Opening with fresh green notes that are juicy rather than crisp. Lemon, galbanum and poplar buds unite in a honeyed accord. Liatrix (Deer’s Tongue) contributes a soft earthy sweetness of coumarin. Sappy galbanum absolute and hints of labdanum make an underlining resinous balsamic statement with hints of powdery and incense. Exquisite sap. Utter bliss.
This is hands-down the most easy-to-wear green perfume I’ve ever come across. One that only brings me happiness with no ambivalence. There is no sharpness in it whatsoever, and the sweetness in it is not forced or artificial as in most of the others I smelled. There is none of the severity or melancholy as in No. 19, nor the decadent confectionery base notes as in Ivoire, Yerbamate or Yohji. Created by French natural perfumer Victoire Gobin-Daudé. This line that is now sadly non-available.
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Now that I have a full bottle at my disposal some three years later, Kisu turns out to be a little warmer and more daring than I remembered it, giving off mostly the impression of dusky woods.
Kisu opens with rosewood indeed, but there is more to it than this ethereal, linalool-laden wood. Notes of ripe berries, and an underlining woody patchouli that escapes from the depth of woods that form the base of Kisu; which makes me wonder – which was the first fruitchouli? But fear not, this isn’t one of them…
The greatest surprise, however, was the violets: there is a whole bouquet of luscious, albeit a little abstract candied violets at the heart. Along with the berries, they form a decadent bite of violet-cassis macaroons, yet without actually making one think of food. They contribute greatly to the dusky wood quality of Kisu.
A sultry undercurrent of sandalwood and saffron also peaks through to the top and heart, which reminds me of two perfumes: Agent Provocateur, by the same perfumer, and also Evening Edged in Gold (Ineke). The Agent Provocateur similarity could be explained byt the fact that both perfumes were developed by perfumer Christian Provenzano uder the artistic direction of Azzi Pickthall of CPL Aromas (which are also currently working on Basenotes’ line of fragrances).
The saffron here is far more subtle though. While sandalwood notes usually don’t work well on my skin, here they are balanced with patchouli, vetiver and musk and work beautifully, creating a clean, woody-musky skin scent that reminds me a little of the dry out of Magazine Street.
And if you are still wondering what’s the meaning of Kisu: Really it is the Japanese name for the Japanese whiting (Sillago japonica), a fish which is prepared in various ways in Japanese cuisine (grilled with salt, raw as sashimi, or prepared as tempura). But I doubt that this was the intention of the creators of the perfume when they named it.
Kisu have also become another word for “Kiss” in Japanese, which is obviously a Japonification of the English word. Other than that, kiss is chuu, kuchizuke or seppun. While the bottle and packaging, with the cherry blossom label over black lacquer-like opaque glass is obviously Japanese inspired, I find the scent to be much less so. Some have mentioned a marine or watery accord, but I fail to find it (nor the ylang ylang!). There is a certain mineral, saltiness to it that is more brine-like than marine or watery.
Yes, this is a clean and dry patchouli and musk dominated base, perhaps remotely similar to that of Pure Turquoise, but it is not in the least watery. It is more of a modern, idealistic Orientalist view of the subject and while I find it very appealing and well made over all, I don’t think it delivers anything that remotely resembles a “Japanese bath ritual” as it assumes in some of the ad copies I’ve seen around. Nevertheless, it makes for a pretty bottle (and the oriental theme continues with the Tann Rokka's second scent, Aki).
I’ve been struggling to find an image to illustrate this review: it has a texture, and while it is quite sensual, being a skin scent and all, there is something very unisex about it that defies that kind of imagery. It doesn’t remind me of nature either – it is far too polished for that. So I just ended up making an image myself, though I can't say it's the perfect portrayal of what Kisu feels like.
Top notes: Rosewood, Berries
Hear notes: Violet, Saffron, Ylang Ylang
Base notes: Cedar, Musk, Patchouli, Vetiver, Sandalwood
Other interesting reviews of Kisu:
Legerdenez
The Scented Salamander
