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Matching

matchbox

There's a guy across the street in the retirement home, who must have lived a long, nicotine-rich life. He spends about half of the days asking passers by for light. And cigarettes. I gave him matches and lighters on a number of occasions, and even one of my cigars. Every time I have something for him his yellowing face lights up, he quiets down for a few minutes... and by the time I'm upstairs again I can already hear is yelling and soliciting for more tobacco.

Between Leather & Tobacco Week (May 11-15), the neighbour across the street asking for matches all the time,  and my newly found infatuation with Tabac Original - the natural course of events was to try to do matching for the latter.

"Matching this is the process of creating a replica for an existing perfume – it’s akin
to writing a symphony’s entire score by listening to a recording of it. nowadays, perfumers use a GC report to assist them in the process, but still need to rely first and foremost on their nose. matching is one of the most important skills for a perfumer, and one of the best tools to develop your composition skills, which is why you’ve been asked to create a match in many of the exercises throughout this book." (Foundation of Natural Perfumery, p. 176). 

Day at the lab

Matching is not something I do often anymore (I did a lot of it in my early perfumery days, as it's a great way to learn composition and study the classics, simultaneously). The reason I don't is because usually it's nearly impossibly to create something even remotely close because the bulk of the fragrance's personality comes from synthetics - some of which are not even naturally occurring. So it's a lost battle from the start. This is also why I refrain from providing any replication services for y custom scents.

Another great challenge of matching is to listen to your nose instead of the brain. In a way it's easier to make matching for something you don't know the name of, or anything about. This way you don't have any misconceptions about it, and that reduces the risk of the "power of suggestion" effect. With Tabac Original, for example: it's easy to assume that there is tobacco in there, and be tempted to add it in. It's in the name of the fragrance, after all! But even my keen nose cannot for the life of me detect the tiniest amount of actual tobacco notes in there. Yes, the fragrance may bring to mind tobacco because its clean, dry, woody character - but there is none of the acrid, leathery, hay-like or even violetty nuances you'll find in tobacco absolute. I'm not saying tobacco won't smell good in there. But it's just isn't there. It's almost easier to think of it as a Fougere - even though it's not that either (there is no moss that I can detect; nor coumarin, which pervades so many masculine fragrances of yore). 

Matching "Tabac Original".

With Tabac Original - it seemed possible. Most of the perceptible and characteristic ingredients, except of the synthetic "white musks" are readily available on my palette. Plus, I thought it would be fun. The "brief" so to speak was not only to make it retain the refreshing vetiver and spice character, but also to refrain from using overtly rare or costly ingredients, so it could potentially be a  "natural drugstore" fragrance of sorts...

So far I'm rather pleased with the results - which utilizes Haitian vetiver as the key component, spiced heart notes of Egyptian geranium, petitgrain and allspice; top notes of lavender, black pepper, ginger and nutmeg. I also had to use some proprietary tinctures of ambrette seeds in lieu of the musk; and ambergris tincture as well to create a bouquetting effect. In that sense I failed to make it a truly cheap fragrance. But it seemed quite necessary for the composition if I were to avoid any expensive florals (for example: I decided to forego any neroli or carnation absolute, both being prohibitively expensive). The tinctures are used in minute amounts, but I won't say either of these raw materials is a run-of-the-mill, easy to find ingredient. It does smell great, though. 

Nocturnes



Although the name suggests it to be a night-invoking perfume, I find it extremely summer-like and full of light.
It starts off with a citrus splash of bergamot and tangerine, backed up with a feminine floral notes of jasmine, and a more masculine eau-de-cologne like notes of orange blossoms and a hint of musk, that adds sensuality to that blast of freshness.
As the top notes start to fade, they reveal a luscious fruity note of peach supported by vanilla, which gradually pushes away the dominant orange-blossom and tangerine accord.
The dry down gradually enters with an interesting and surprising accord dominated by a fresh, woody and masculine vetiver notes, accompanied by green notes, orange blossom (softer and more subtle now), and a very modest hint of vanilla and rose. 
This perfume is full of surprises, I love the way the stages fade into each other. The overall impression is of freshness and vivacity, mingled with a tad of melancholy, which brings to mind Chopin's expressive piano nocturni. 

It’s surprising to see that such an old-fashioned aldehydic floral was launched in the 80’s (1981 to be exact). The perfumer behind Nocturnes is Gerard Lefort.

Top notes: Aldehydes, Bergamot, Mandarin, Green notes
Heart notes: Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Ylang Ylang, Tuberose, Stephanotis, Lily of the Valley, Orris, Rose, Cyclamen 
Base notes: Vetiver, Musk, Sandalwood, Amber, Vanilla, Benzoin



Spiced Citrus Vetiver

Sonoma Scent Studio has a new collection in the works - Sonoma Naturals, which I've been fortunate enough to sample its first two offerings. I was particularly curious to smell how Laurie Erickson's style translates in the new medium of 100% naturals. Although her "mixed media" perfumes are already contain a very high ratio of naturals, many of the molecules act as such powerful accessory notes that they could define a perfumer's style in such way that it would be difficult to fathom their perfumes without them. In this case, I could not imagine Laurie's perfumes without a prominent presence of violetty ionones.
 
Spiced Citrus Vetiver begins with a burst of blood orange and smooth warmth of Mysore sandalwood and a touch of very subtle woodsy spices. It is an unusually complex vetiver scent. It is refreshing and citrusy as you'd expect from such a name. At the same time it possesses a warmth that is not particularly spicy, but rather a sophisticated and woody-floral.

True to form, Spiced Citrus Vetiver contains ionones, originating in the exotic floral note of osmanthus. Osmanthus has a significant amount of naturally-occurring alpha ionone, which give this perfume a certain roundedness, as well as exotic mystery. It is suitable for the heat of the summer, reminiscent of sandalwood fans and chilled osmanthus tea and cool vetiver.

Lampblack

Lampblack by Bruno Fazzolari
Every evening before sunset, the preparations for the lightless hours commenced: father would fill the lamps with petroleum, trim the wicks and replace the spent ones; and mother would clean the soot off the fragile mouth-blown glass shields with a round bottle-brush. This job had to be done well ahead of time to ensure they are completely dry. Failure to do so would result of the glass exploding into shreds once the heat of the flame kisses the damp glass.

This is how I grew up, in the dim light to do the homework to in contrast to the blasting Mediterranean sun. Moths and fireflies will gather around the lamps and candles, often sacrificing their tiny lives by getting too close to the light... If you were too light-greedy by raised the flaming wick - the exact opposite result will be achieved: would  too much soot will collect rapidly on the glass, blocking the light and create more work for the next day...

One day technology arrived at my home village in the form of solar-power, and the petroleum lamps and all those little strange mundane details of electric-free life were almost forgotten... Until I encountered Bruno Fazzolari, a visual and perfume artist as well as an art educator - and his new perfume collection of 5 fragrances with the eponymous title. I instantly fell for two out of the five, and learned that the soot collecting on such lamps has a name, and is also the most ancient of all pigments: Lampblack.
Petroleum lamp by MrsFaraway
Petroleum lamp, a photo by MrsFaraway on Flickr.
Lampblack is not an isolated perfume - it was debuted as part of an art show at Gallery Paule Anglim in San Francisco, alongside a series of Exploring the relationship between art and perfume is a controversial and difficult subject (for many reasons I feel should be the topic of another post) and it's both exciting and encouraging to see an artist taking the risk and seriously pursuing the challenge.

Lampblack pigment is not simply black - but also possesses brownish or blue background hues that might show more clearly to the untrained eye after the colour fades a bit. It's a very versatile pigment - and is used to create India Ink, as well as black water colour and oil paints.

The primal, basic nature of lampblack pigment appeals to me. There is something very straight forward about it; yet also a mystery. It connects the innate need to tell a story through the ages - on cave walls or the Metro station.

Lampblack perfume encompasses that connection: it has some very prehistoric elements such as the smokiness of nagramotha (cyperus, a relative of vetiver that has an almost tar-like scent that is not unlike petroleum at its pure state); an ink-like quality that makes one think of the cold steel from which bridges are built. Strangely enough, it also reminds me of a visit to a fisher's docks in Haifa in elementary schools, when we were shown a cephalopod and the ink that comes out of it. There was a salty, metallic scent in the air of a rainy winter day, the rusty ships and wet wooden docks.

Upon application, Lampblack possesses an abstract yet familiar freshness merged with woodsy and mineral elements: sulfuric grapefruit, flint-like black pepper and woodsy sandalwood and vetiver. Quickly, a turpentine-like smokiness of nagramotha interferes with the agreeable opening, and an abstract array of molecules that bring to mind ink and minerals. Underneath it, if you listen carefully, there's a quiet jasmine note peaking through the rather angular structure, echoing the "fruity magentas" and splashes of yellow that are peaking through the buoyant spills of thick India ink in the artist's painting - but perhaps it's the other way around. Powdery benzoin mellows out the dryness of the woods, suave and absorbent like rough watercolour paper.

Lampblack perfume and the entire collection of 5 can be purchased directly from the artist's Edition webpage, or via his Etsy shop.

Vetiver Noir OOAK Perfume

Coffee Beans by Stirling Noyes
Coffee Beans, a photo by Stirling Noyes on Flickr.
Last month, I went back to my old sketch vetiver formula for Vetiver Noir (from 2007) and decided to make it better. Sometimes great idea take a few years to materialize, and I'm glad that no one bought this before, so I was able to turn this into a singular, One Of A Kind perfume and offer it anew on my website, in the semi-custom-perfume. The way it works with these OOAK perfumes is, that instead of paying full price for a custom scent you get to pick a singular phenomenon from my personal lab experiments and archives, and make it your own. I will not sell the perfume (or the formula) to anyone else after you do so; and when you run out - you can order a refill for the same price as custom scent refills go for. 

To the original formula, with Indonesian vetiver, dark-roast Arabica coffee, Ruh Khus and Cardamom - I added some surprising elements that have a dark, intense quality - yet create a very sophisticated aura. Using Bourbon Vetiver was a big twist of faith here, as it is a very rare distillation, and with that smoky, dark, nutty quality that makes vetiver connoisseurs swoon (and those who don't get vetiver in other occastions might just fall for it after smelling this varietal).

Dark-roasted coffee beans complement the nutty, dark texture of Vetiver Bourbon and Indonesian vetiver oils. Ruh Khus and baked Indian earth contribute warmth and depth, accented with hints of nutmeg and hazelnuts.

The new OOAK Vetiver Noir turned into something I'm so pleased with I'm almost tempted to take off-line... That's how much I love it. So make it your own before I change my mind!
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