sun reflected by water
Sometimes I am almost jealous on my fellow bloggers who are have the pleasures of reviewing fragrances. I imagine with an endless stream of new appearances and remakes of the remake there is a Mississippi like stream of inspiration facing you in your perfumery blogging. Well, just sometimes. Because mostly I am very happy not being a critic myself. At least when it comes to this blog.
AromaX’s post of today is dealing with a fragrance, and I enjoy reading it a lot, but actually his post is a reflection that goes much further than describing individual notes. For there is something wrong with pyramides. And notes. And what folks, perfumers and marketing profs will tell you. Indeed, these scent pyramides are somewhat useless.
What help is it to learn that fragrance vetiver xyz features pepper, grapefruit and clary sage on top of its pyramide. Nothing, I’d say. You need to know how these notes are woven into this fragrance’s fabric, how the perfumer set the accents using other notes. And what is pepper for me that vanishes and maybe nice because it complements a green citrus line, is a dear memory to others, of weaking up next to a stranger after a glorious night. Thus, why pyramides at all? I guess just a desperate trial to bring order in something that can’t really be ordered. It would be fun to search for identical pyramides and test the fragrances next to each other. Clones? Hardly.
The full post dealing with the question “what is wrong with the fragrance pyramide?” you find following this link to AromaX’s blog.
The sun, reflected by water of a mountain lake, Gotthard region, August 2008.
September 9th, 2008 at 2:57 pm
Dear Andy,
I am glad you’ve enjoyed the reading and to know that my post makes to think. Thank you for your warm words and sharing your thoughts. I do agree with you about pyramids – they are not useless, but the way they are used doesn’t add a lot to a perfume. For me the perfume is a fantasy in a bottle that has right to have its own fairy tale. Something that describes reality in terms of magic. And this fairy tale should tell something about the legend of perfume (the history or the inspiration), the fantasy it’s supposed to be and of course the composition. But not in lifeless pyramid form. I do agree with you that it’s much more interesting to know what is the meaning of that drop of pepper oil. Was it meant to be a finishing touch of the green line? Or a sun reflection on the dewdrop lying on the white petal? Or is it a touch of spiciness reminding us that even tear white rose has its thorns? So, Andy, don’t you think it’s better to substitute a pyramid by a fragrant fairy tale? ;-)
September 9th, 2008 at 3:05 pm
Oh, absolutely, AromaX, I’d prefer a fairy tale ;-)
Unfortunately, I am not so good in story telling these days and a pyramide is soooo easy ;-) hehehehe
I will have to think of my fairy tale for the pepper, and the lily of the valley, indeed.
September 9th, 2008 at 6:24 pm
Andy–always a pleasure to read your insights…particularly on this pyramid subject…
September 9th, 2008 at 10:11 pm
Today we had a fabulous sunny day in Prague and the temperatures were around 26 C.
My husband and I walked in a centuries old garden near a palace and we found many very old, very tall, big trees. There was even a very old Ginkgo Biloba tree from eastern China originally.
I never knew that the Ginkgo Biloba tree already exists for more than 270 million years on this Earth..! That puts everything in our lives today a very unique and different perspective.
I wanted to pick some leaves from the tree just to smell them, but the branches were too high.
You are an independant perfumer Andy and you create all your fragrances just as you love them and want them. This wonderful process of creation must somehow feel like carrying new life inside you and slowly but certainly the perfume gets its special character and form. We may even help to choose a name :).
Pressing your creations into some pyramid-description actually makes no sense at all.
Your perfumes are like that Ginkgo Biloba Tree for they are timeless and yet from all times.
Marianne.
September 9th, 2008 at 11:11 pm
Don’t be so shy, Andy. You are very good in fragrant story telling. And they smell wonderful. I was smelling one of them today. And it told me about an oase in the middle of the desert, Turkish delight and rose sherbet, a passionate Flamenco dancer and a mysterious monk… What was your imagination when you was making Incense RosĂ©? ;-)
September 10th, 2008 at 7:51 am
Dear Arhianrad
Thank you! and it is my pleasure to see you here
Dear Marianne
Indeed , Ginko is a rather old idea of nature, but still valid it seems and I think it is truly a good medicine tree. What I love most about it: It’s the colors in autumn.Just wonderful this green yellow. I painted a Ginko leaf once for my mother (birthday wish). I will post it soon….
thank you for your lovely words!
Dear AromaX
hmmm I was maybe thinking in muezzins singing in the evening, the sound of water, a little artificial spring, in a green dark garden, behind the souk with its spices and incense sellers, hidden from the world, where a dark damask rose was kissed, tears falling on its petals as the beloved one was forbidden to the garden and far away. snieeeeefff ;-)
so you see: Incense rosé is a rather sad fragrance!