Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 Black Gemstone: Black (Gold) Beauty

Source: wall321.com

Source: wall321.com

Love at first sniff. Black Gemstone is an opulently ambered, spicy, woody-incense fragrance from Stéphane Humbert Lucas that caught my attention from the very first time I tried it. Mysterious woods, black frankincense and tart lemons curds, thick velvet and sticky amber — those disparate images are only one part of the complex tale created by one of the chic-est, most polished, most intriguing orientals that I’ve tried in a while.

"Shades of Caramel Abstract" by David Naman. Source: Fine Art America. (Website link embedded within.)

“Shades of Caramel Abstract” by David Naman. Source: Fine Art America. (Website link embedded within.)

I’m not sure where to start in trying to summarize Black Gemstone. Should it be the well-oiled woods drizzled with honey and saffron? The way the perfume changes shape each time, or how it tantalizes you with little tendrils of notes that are never quite what they seem? Should I talk about how its darkness turns to a sensual warmth that envelops you like velvet on satin skin? Or how its surface simplicity dissolves upon closer inspection into layer upon finely calibrated layer — all like tiny detailed brushstrokes of enameled lacquer on an ornate golden heart of patchouli and amber?

I don’t know where to begin, in part because Black Gemstone feels truly mysterious on some levels — and not simply because the perfume changes on my skin from one spot to the next, or from wearing to wearing. I don’t find many fragrances to evoke a sense of mystery, let alone darkness, but, somehow, the opening of Black Gemstone does. And, as a whole, it is one of the chic-est damn things I’ve tried in ages.

Stéphane Humbert Lucas, via SHL FB, used with permission.

Stéphane Humbert Lucas, via SHL FB, used with permission.

Black Gemstone is a 2013 parfum extrait from Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 (hereinafter just referred to as “SHL 777” or “777“). All the perfumes are created by Monsieur Lucas, who used to be the in-house perfumer for SoOud and Nez à Nez. Up to now, the 777 line was exclusive to Europe, Russia, and Middle Eastern, but there is excellent news.

The complete SHL 777 line should be coming to America in a few days, including the stunning amber monster, O Hira, that was previously contractually limited to Harrods and to Printemps, and the 2013 iris-amber-heliotrope Khol de Bahrein. The new 2014 releases should also be available, such as the highly original cherry-latex-almond-cedar-oud Qom Chilom, the immortelle gourmand Une Nuit à Doha, and the Cambodian oud, smoke and leather, Oud 777. The scents will be exclusive to Luckyscent and Osswald NYC. I have samples of the line, thanks to the generosity and kindness of Monsieur Lucas, and Black Gemstone is the second to last in my series. (I’m only missing Rose de Petra, so Soleil de Jeddah will be the last.)

Black Gemstone. Photo and source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Black Gemstone. Photo and source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Black Gemstone is a pure parfum that is described in the press materials provided to me as follows:

Tribute to the Black Stone
Brewed essence, tender as clay,
petrified, blackened.

Infusion of three Cedars – Lemon
Myrrh tar
Incense [Olibanum] – Teak – Tonka.

As with other SHL 777 fragrances, the official list seems to be merely a nutshell synopsis. I detected far more emanating from my skin, from honey and labdanum amber, to sweet myrrh/opoponax and woody-leathered undertones. So I sent off yet another pestering email to poor Monsieur Lucas to ask what else was actually included in Black Gemstone. I’m always grateful for his time, patience, and forthright openness, but I was especially relieved this time because, by the time I got his reply, I was pretty sure I was wafting eucalyptus, saffron and patchouli as well. You don’t know how crazy you start to feel when you smell things a galaxy away from what’s on an official note list. (I mean, eucalyptus, for heaven’s sake!)

The actual note list for Black Gemstone turns out to be:

Italian lemon, 3 types of cedar, frankincense (olibanum), myrrh, sweet myrrh (opoponax), patchouli, cistus labdanum amber, teak wood, birch wood, saffron, basil, a camphor accord (eucalyptus and rosemary), and tonka.

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Black Gemstone opens on my skin with beautiful honey and deep, concentrated tart lemon over dark, smoky woods. There is a noticeable leather undertone and a strongly balsamic base, along with almost a black tea-like smokiness, all of which are lovely. The woods are dark and blackened, but not singed or burnt. Rather, they’re sweetened and musky, then drenched with an incredibly real lemon note.

Photo: bravetart.com

Photo: bravetart.com

The latter was the star of the opening act on my skin in quite a few tests that I did. It has the perfect balance of a tart, tangy Meyer’s lemon, a type of lemon that does not have strong acidity. This is no crisp, zesty, or chilled citric note. It’s also far from thin. Instead, there is a very heavy, sun-ripened juiciness that has been concentrated into something almost akin to unsugared lemon curd in its beautiful, tart depths. I cannot get over the lemon note in Black Gemstone, really I can’t. And I’m not one who ever gushes about citruses in fragrances.

I think one reason why there is such a full-bodied richness and fruited heaviness is that the lemon has been subtly amplified by patchouli. It’s the syrupy, fruited patchouli that I normally loathe so much, but it’s managed with incredible finesse here. Never gooey or overly sweet, and only occasionally like jammy, purple molasses, the patchouli here has been refined to add just a touch of concentrated richness to the lemon without ever detracting from the citric focus. The result would almost feel photo-realistic, except this lemon has been shot through with walloping amounts of black smoke in a way that I haven’t previously encountered.

black-smoke-image_WideThat smoke is definitely the second star of Black Gemstone’s opening on my skin. The frankincense is beautiful and perfectly balanced, never too muffled but also never really overpowering or aggressive. Strong tendrils seep out to weave and wrap themselves around you, leaving trails in the air behind you as you move. The smoke is sometimes sharp in its intensity, but, yet, oddly soft and delicate at the same time. There is no grey dustiness or chilliness here; this smoke is warm from the honey and lemons.

Photo by Daniel Fox. Source: petapixel.com.  (Website link embedded within.)

Photo by Daniel Fox. Source: petapixel.com. (Website link embedded within.)

While the lemon and frankincense waltz on center stage, other elements quietly weave in and out. The note list says myrrh “tar,” and it does feel a little like a blackened accord, thanks to the copious amounts of a sticky balsamic resin that turns the smoke slightly sweet. There is also an occasional touch of opoponax or sweet myrrh that adds a nutty warmth, but it is very fleeting. Much more noticeable is the resinous base. The labdanum doesn’t smell ambered or golden at this point, but reflects instead a darkness that impacts all the other notes. At times, it has a subtle tobacco tonality, but, most of the time, it merely adds a feeling of something leathery and thick.

Photo: My own.

Photo: My own.

From afar, Black Gemstone is a beautiful mix of smoky lemony and incense, drizzled with honey and cocooned amidst musky woods, all atop a very balsamic, leathery base. Up close, the mix is absolutely addictive, constantly drawing me in with its richness. It mesmerizes the analytical part of my mind, often because the notes are fused so thoroughly together that it’s hard to know where one starts and the other ends.

In fact, it’s extremely hard to tease out many of the notes in Black Gemstone because it’s a beautifully blended fragrance. I found it almost impossible to know the source for many of the things that I detected. Not only do the individual elements flow seamlessly one to the next, but so many of them complement and share common characteristics. Does the honey derive from the labdanum or the sweet myrrh? Is the subtle tobacco-like tonality that dances at the edges a result of the patchouli, the labdanum, or something else? Same question for the leather undertone. I have no answers at all.

Mark Rothko, "Untitled (Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow on White and Red)," 1949.

Mark Rothko, “Untitled” 1949.

The perfume is so incredibly blended that it never actually opened the exact same way twice on my skin on any of the 3 occasions when I wore it. On my usual testing arm, Black Gemstone always opened with a bouquet dominated by incense and some fluctuating level of lemon curd, but that was the only consistent aspect because all the other notes varied. On one occasion, the main duo was heavily dusted by spicy saffron from the very start, then trailed by honey and a jammy, fruited, almost raspberry-ish patchouli over a soft base of warm amber.

Source: wallpoper.com

Source: wallpoper.com

Another time, Black Gemstone’s opening was drier, woodier, and much smokier. This time, the incense-lemon accord was cocooned in musky cedar with a touch of creamy beeswax from the sweet myrrh. The frankincense felt even stronger than usual, and the cedar was much more prominent than on any prior occasion. In contrast, the amber and the saffron were weaker, taking much longer to rise up from the base. The jammy patchouli was also less evident, but the woodier, red-brown, spicy patchouli flickered in and out from the start.

Source: publicdomainpictures.net

Source: publicdomainpictures.net

However, on my non-testing arm, it was a different story entirely. Black Gemstone opened with patchouli, saffron, camphor, lemon curd, musky woods, cedar, amber, tobacco tonalities and incense. The patchouli and saffron combination far outweighed the frankincense lemon curd. The perfume felt sweeter and richer, with more overt spices and a flickering touch of eucalyptus camphor right from the start. To my surprise, the patchouli felt simultaneously like the fruited, jammy kind and the more traditional, usual patchouli that I love with its red-brown spiciness, tobacco woodiness, and a touch of mentholated green. I can’t remember the last time I encountered a perfume where both versions of patchouli were present side-by-side at the same time. All I can say is that there is serious skill and technical wizardry involved in all of this.

In short, Black Gemstone is what I call a “prismatic” scent. It throws off different facets each time you wear it, the way light hitting a crystal chandelier will reflect different rays of colours. Prismatic scents can often seem linear in nature, because the seamless blending of notes reveals the different nuances very subtly. I believe Luca Turin calls these sorts of fragrances “circular” because the notes often come around hours later again in a full circle, and that happens here with Black Gemstone, as well. It makes it hard for me to give you the usual breakdown or analysis, especially once the perfume transitions into its second stage, because there is never one set story.

Still, I’ll try to describe what happens in one of the tests, the one with which I began this review. After 15 minutes, Black Gemstone starts to shift, particularly in terms of the wooded accord. It grows far stronger, and feels simultaneously dry but creamy. Initially, it doesn’t smell of cedar at all. It’s not peppered or dusty the way some cedar can be. Nor does it smell of pencil shavings.

Cedar. Photo: Brett Stewart, with permission. Source: http://instagram.com/bstewart23

Cedar. Photo: Brett Stewart, with permission. Source: http://instagram.com/bstewart23

Instead, the wood is turning beautifully creamy in a way that feels very unusual for cedar. Perhaps it is from the sweet myrrh, which can often reflect a creamy beeswax tonality. Or, perhaps it is the teak which is responsible? I must confess, I have no idea what teak smells like, and Fragrantica only says it is a “fantasy note” that is polished, light and “blond.” I don’t know what that means. All I can say is that the wood here in Black Gemstone feels infused with frankincense, myrrh, the concentrated lemon curd, and that mysterious creaminess. Even better, there is a distinct earthiness and muskiness to it, though it is very hard to describe or explain.

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

The whole thing feels heavily oiled, smoky, sweet, darkened, and smooth. The honey that was drizzled all over fades after 20 minutes as a distinct, individual note, though a definite sweetness remains. Everything about Black Gemstone feels concentrated and rich, evoking the brightest yellow shot through with endless smoke and blackness. It is a ball of brightness in a dark forest where all the trees have been oiled to a smooth, polished finish. None of it smells like furniture polish, by the way. It’s more like a photo-realistic, tart lemon concentrate, reduced down to a thick treacle, then shot through with incense and dry, earthy, musky woods.

Black Gemstone continues to shift and evolve. About 30 minutes in, the cedar finally begins to smell more like its usual self. The first hints of saffron appear, but this isn’t the usual sort of saffron either. It’s not fiery, dusty, buttered, or even particularly spicy at first. Instead, it’s more like a woody saffron that has been refined to add mere warmth. Sometimes, it feels more like a subset of the labdanum, or a figment of my imagination. Yet, in other tests, the spice was noticeable from the start and smelled more like actual saffron.

I’m struggling to explain all this, and I know I’m being somewhat unclear, but I find Black Gemstone extremely hard to describe. There are two reasons why. First, on my skin, many of the notes in the perfume are quite subtle at times. Second, they’ve been highly refined to the point that they don’t always smell the way that I’m used to. Monsieur Lucas told me in one of his emails that he worked extremely hard with the quantities, to add just “tiny doses” and ensure that the many elements were all calibrated against each other. Yet, he also used extremely expensive, high-quality ingredients whose normally bold nature has been smoothed out. The overall effect of both things is to create notes that are simultaneously very refined and quite elusive at times, leading you to wonder just what you’re sniffing. On other occasions, however, the exact same note was less mysterious, like the time that the eucalyptus was evident from the start instead of being such a tantalizing whisper in the background.

Roughly 90 minutes into Black Gemstone’s development, the second stage arrives and it is essentially the same each time, in all my versions. The details and small nuances may vary from one test to another, but the broad brushstrokes are generally consistent. For the most part, Black Gemstone transitions into a markedly different perfume from that which appeared at the start.

Photo by Daniel Fox. Source: petapixel.com . http://petapixel.com/2013/05/25/photographer-captures-abstract-photos-showing-lava-up-close/

Photo by Daniel Fox. Source: petapixel.com . http://petapixel.com/2013/05/25/photographer-captures-abstract-photos-showing-lava-up-close/

Now, Black Gemstone is not dominated by tart, concentrated lemon curd with incense, but by more golden elements led first by the amber and incense, then, hours later, by patchouli-amber. As the lemon slowly softens and fades away, the labdanum rises from the base, the incense turns up another notch, the myrrh becomes stronger, and the brown patchouli finally wakes up in the base. Saffron is sprinkled over everything, while little hints of beeswax dart about. The musky woods feel more amorphous than cedar-y, and seem creamier than ever. As a whole, Black Gemstone feels deeper, softer, and richer, though the sillage lessens a little. The visuals of yellow with black have changed to amber, gold, bronze, brown and cream.

Source: ebay.uk.

Source: ebay.uk.

Black Gemstone’s greatest characteristic for me at this point would be ambered velvet. If textures could be actual notes, then “velvet” should be part of the perfume’s pyramid, because it feels as much a part of Black Gemstone’s identity as the tendrils of black incense or the earthy, musky woods. There is a smooth richness to the scent that is wonderfully luxurious and feels almost like thickened, creamy brocade. Monsieur Lucas attributes a lot of it to the tonka, but I’m used to tonka that is either powdery, purely vanillic, creamy vanilla, or some combination of both. I’ve never experienced tonka as creamy velvet amber.

It all feels very elegant, polished, and chic, but there is also something soothing and serene about Black Gemstone. It’s as though you’re in a palatial room padded with thick velvet that drowns out all the frenetic noise around you. You lie on a bed made out of cedar and patchouli, on sheets of honeyed, fragrant beeswax, under a thick blanket of dark velvet shot through with ambered gold and saffron, as clouds of black incense circulate in the air all around you. It’s meditative, zen, and comforting all at once.

Source: wallpaperup.com

Source: wallpaperup.com

Black Gemstone continues to shift, but only by tiny, incremental degrees. The lemon fades away entirely at the 2.5 hour mark. An hour later, the cedar retreats to the background, and the woods turn more abstract. The tonka starts to stir more noticeably in the base, adding the faintest touch of powder to the scent and even more of the creaminess mentioned above. The myrrh and sweet myrrh work in tandem with the frankincense, adding more smoke to the scent, but the sharpness is offset by the surging tides of amber that roll over everything. Meanwhile, the brown-red patchouli grows stronger. I’m a complete “patch head,” so I’m over the moon at its prominence and spicy richness. Occasional touches of camphor and eucalyptus dart about, but the patchouli is primarily one more layer of golden warmth.

Source: wallpaperswa.com

Source: wallpaperswa.com

At the end of 9 hours, Black Gemstone is a blend of sweet, spicy, nutty, vaguely honeyed, woody notes, lightly flecked with incense in a thick cocoon of velvet amber. The primary bouquet is centered on patchouli-amber, trailed by the incense. The patchouli occasionally has a powerful streak of eucalyptus. Sometime, there is a subtle booziness as well. Saffron, tonka and an amorphous, warm woodiness dart about in the background, adding to the richness of the scent. There is no real powder, no vanilla, just layer upon layer of goldenness upon a deep base that feels like the darkest resins have turned to satin.

At the start of the 12th hour, Black Gemstone is a warm blur of patchouli amber. If you smell up close and really focus, you can just barely single out the tonka, saffron, cedar, and eucalyptus, but they’re increasingly minor and muted. In its final moments, Black Gemstone is merely a silky whisper of golden warmth with a vaguely woody character.

All in all, Black Gemstone consistently lasted well over 14 hours on my perfume consuming skin. With 2 decent spritzes from my atomizer, amounting to one very good spray from an actual bottle, the perfume lasted just under 15 hours. Really, about 14.75. The sillage was initially large, hovering about 4 inches above the skin. That number dropped after 90 minutes to about 2 inches above the skin, then one inch at the 3.75 hour mark. There, Black Gemstone remained for ages, turning into a skin scent only at the end of the 8th hour.

Source: hqwide.com

Source: hqwide.com

The numbers were even better with 3 big spritzes, amounting to 2 sprays from a proper bottle. The longevity was just short of 17 hours. Black Gemstone initially wafted about 5 inches off my skin, but it left a definite trail behind me. On one occasion, I had dinner with my parents about an hour after applying Black Gemstone, and was told that they could smell the fragrance in two rooms that I had been either standing in or walking through. In all cases, however, and regardless of amount, Black Gemstone’s sillage averages out to about 2 inches above the skin when you consider the 14 to 16 hours as a whole.

As a point of comparison, that’s pretty much how most Profumum Roma scents are on my skin as well. In fact, Black Gemstone actually feels a lot like a Profumum scent with its heavy, concentrated nature and great longevity. Both brands put out fragrances that are extraits or pure parfums in concentration, so it’s not really a surprise. In the case of Black Gemstone, it has 24% concentration, just like its other siblings in the SHL 777 line.

On a personal level, I have to say that this has been one of the most difficult reviews I’ve written in a while. Despite the hundreds of words that I’ve written, I can’t shake the feeling that I haven’t actually described the perfume at all. I can summarize it up in a nutshell as a lemon-incense fragrance with dry woods that later turns into incense-patchouli-amber, but that doesn’t seem to convey the full extent of Black Gemstone’s complexity on my skin or its feel. Emphasizing the smoky incense and woodiness would be misleading, just as it would be if I focused on the golden warmth which later appears.

George Seurat, "The Seine and la Grande Jatte - Springtime 1888, Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium. Source: Wikipedia.

George Seurat, “The Seine and la Grande Jatte” – Springtime 1888, Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium. Source: Wikipedia.

All of these things are just one piece of the puzzle, a puzzle that seems extremely simple on the outside. In fact, some of you may sniff Black Gemstone and wonder what on earth I’m talking about, because the details are often like tiny brushstrokes. For me, Black Gemstone feels like one of the paintings from the famous Pointillist painter, George Seurat, where you have to look extremely close in order to see that the seemingly simple image is actually created from thousands of tiny dots.

In the same way that my words feel inadequate, so is the imagery. I generally try to use photos as a symbolic, visual representations, and, yet, none of them seem to really capture the full picture. They certainly don’t convey some of the impressions in my head for how the perfume feels to me, or the men and women who represent its different facets. So, I’m giving in to frustration and going to subject you to a visual display that may explain some of it.

Symbolically, Black Gemstone sometimes translates in my head from this:

Drottningholm Palace, Sweden. Photo: CubeFarmEscape at http://cubefarmescape.com/2011/06/pick-a-palace-or-two/

Drottningholm Palace, Sweden. Photo: CubeFarmEscape at http://cubefarmescape.com/2011/06/pick-a-palace-or-two/

to this:

Photo: Lorraine Eaton. Source: hamptonroads.com

Photo: Lorraine Eaton. Source: hamptonroads.com

But also this:

Photo: Mert & Marcus from their video for Madonna, "Girl gone wild." Source: kontraplan.com

Photo: Mert & Marcus from their video for Madonna, “Girl gone wild.” Source: kontraplan.com

to this:

Source: imgfave.com. Artist or creator unknown.

Source: imgfave.com. Artist or creator unknown.

At the same time, however, Black Gemstone can also feel like this:

Source: wallpaperup.com

Source: wallpaperup.com

leading to this:

Source: darkroom.baltimoresun.com

Source: darkroom.baltimoresun.com

before ending up as this:

Photo: Hawkea. Source: hawkea.blogspot.com

Photo: Hawkea. Source: hawkea.blogspot.com

And all of this is worn by him:

Model David Gandy via fashionbeans.com

Model David Gandy via fashionbeans.com

and her:

Bianca Balti for Dolce & Gabbana. Source: stylesnooperdan

Bianca Balti for Dolce & Gabbana. Source: stylesnooperdan

At least, that is how Black Gemstone appears in my head. I wish I could tell you how others see it, but I could not find any comparative reviews to show you. On Fragrantica, Black Gemstone’s entry page has no comments at this time. In fact, until yesterday, the perfume was not widely available outside of Harrods and Paris’ Printemps. Germany’s First in Fragrance just received Black Gemstone, along with the new 2014 releases. As noted at the start of this post, the complete SHL 777 line will be released in the U.S. at the start of May.

In Europe, Black Gemstone’s retail price is €235 for a 50 ml bottle of pure parfum. I don’t have the official American pricing rate, but, at today’s rate of exchange, that comes to roughly $325. However, I know from prior experiences with European exclusives that the eventual U.S. price is always much less than the conversion amount. So, I estimate the perfume will probably be in the $290 range, though that is purely a personal guess.

For me, Black Gemstone is worth every penny, and it is high on my wish list right next to the magnificent O Hira, the Incredible Hulk of ambers. The latter is far too expensive to be anything more than a dream for me, but Black Gemstone will be mine. The quality, luxuriousness, projection, and sillage are all there, but more importantly, the perfume moves me. As all these photos should demonstrate, it tells me lots of very different stories throughout its long tenure. It took me places, was intellectually interesting, and had multi-layered complexity that showed great technical skill by the perfumer. So much complexity, in fact, that Black Gemstone was often several perfumes in one on my skin.

Even within the same journey, I found Black Gemstone to be contemplative and meditative, but also darkly sultry and sexy, before ending up as comforting, relaxing warmth. I found all of it addictive, from start to finish, and compulsively sniffable. Is it the most objectively unique and original fragrance? No, because at the end of the day, it is still an incense-woody-amber scent. (In contrast, SHL 777’s new Qom Chilom is definitely unique with its notes of sour Morello cherries, black latex, smoke, almonds, oud, heliotrope, and more.) Still, Black Gemstone feels more approachable to me, and I love how polished it feels. Amber orientals aren’t a category that I would usually classify as “chic,” but Black Gemstone is definitely chic to me.

In short, if you’re looking for a very complex but elegant oriental fragrance, I strongly recommend that you give Black Gemstone a sniff. It’s a black beauty with a rich golden heart.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of Stéphane Humbert Lucas. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Black Gemstone is an Extrait or pure parfum that is only available in a 50 ml bottle and costs €235. The 777 line will be at Luckyscent and Osswald NYC by the end of April. [Update 5/2/14 — Osswald has received the entire 777 line. It sells Black Gemstone for $309.] Outside the U.S.: Currently, the SHL 777 website is under construction, and doesn’t have an e-store. The best online resource is First in Fragrance which just received the complete SHL 777 line, including the new 2014 releases. It offers a sample of Black Gemstone for €14. In London, you can find the entire collection at Harrod’s Black Room, while in Paris, they are exclusive to Printemps under the name 777. Zurich’s Osswald also carries the line, but I don’t think they have an e-store any more. The Swiss perfumery, Theodora, also has SHL 777, but no e-store. In Cannes, France, the store Taizo is said to carry the 777 line, but I didn’t see the perfumes on their website the last time I checked. In the Middle East, Souq.com has about 6 of the earlier fragrances which it sells for AED 1,500. In the UAE, the SHL 777 line is available at Harvey Nichols and at Bloomingdales in the Dubai Mall. In Russia, SHL 777 is sold at Lenoma. Ukraine’s Sana Hunt Luxury store also carries the line, but they don’t have an e-store. Samples: None of the U.S. sample sites currently carry this fragrance, so Luckyscent and Osswald NYC will be your best option once the SHL 777 line is released. Osswald has changed its Sample Program such that individual pricing now depends on the cost of the particular perfume in question. They range from $3 a vial, up to $9 a vial for fragrances that cost over $300. The program is limited to U.S. customers and has free shipping, but there is also a 3-sample minimum, I believe. If you have questions, you can call Osswald at (212) 625-3111 to enquire further.

Arte Profumi Ecclesiae

Greek Orthodox CenserThere is a small church nestled in a pine forest clearing, a church whose wooden pews are covered by the dust of ages and whose stony floors echo the footsteps of monks swinging a thurible censer. White smoke from myrrh fills the air like a thin wall of purification, but that is not unexpected in such a traditional place. What is different is the bridge outside, a bridge made of creamy, honeyed beeswax and sweet myrrh. It links the stony, dusty Catholic church to its polar opposite on the far side of the world, an oriental temple filled with black smoke, not white olibanum. It is a temple where spicy patchouli sweetness and dry woods are offered to the gods alongside the frankincense, swirling together in a haze of great warmth. Two sides of the same coin, two very different worlds, and two very different perfumed aromas. But they’ve been bottled into one fragrance, Ecclesiae.

The Arte Profumi line. Source: Profumo.net

The Arte Profumi line. Source: Profumo.net

Ecclesiae is an eau de parfum from the Italian perfume house, Arte Profumi. The company, whose name translates to The Art of Perfume, is based in Rome and seems to have been founded around 2013, the year when it launched all its fragrances. I first encountered the line at Jovoy in Paris, though I never gave them a proper testing. The name stuck in my mind, however, so when Surrender to Chance suddenly started to carry a few of the scents, I seized the opportunity. Arte Profumi’s website isn’t very detailed or helpful, but the one thing that it makes clear is that its founders are passionate about art:

The passion for modern art and, at the same time the world of essences, as well as the need for combining them has led to the organization of multi-sensorial events.

By extraction, you get the concept of perfume as works of art, capable of replacing visual impressions through the perception of olfactory consent.

A source of inspiration for this implementation was the distant recollection of an old dressmaker’s shop where the choice of cloths, original patterns and precious trimmings stood for a lifestyle.

Source: Profumo.net

Source: Profumo.net

Arte Profumi’s website doesn’t provide the official description or notes for Ecclesiae, but I found the details on First in Fragrance:

A touch of eternity in the hallowed stone halls of a medieval cathedral where prayer and hymns along with incense soar heavenwards – in fragrant clouds of smoke, circling choirs of angels in reverence and devotion.

Arte Profumi pays homage to frankincense with their sacred scent aptly named “Ecclesiae”. Spicy elemi paves the way for the protagonist frankincense and a heart of sandalwood. Smoky, earthy patchouly and vetiver lend the composition depth and volume, a choir with many voices that intone the same harmony.

Friends of church fragrances and frankincense, but also lovers of oriental fragrances will welcome this creation from Arte Profumi as a blessing. 

Top Note: Elemi
Heart Note: Frankincense, Sandalwood
Base Note: Patchouly, Vetiver

Source: Wikipedia

Source: Wikipedia

Judging by what appeared on my skin, I think those notes are a bit incomplete or lacking in detail, because Ecclesiae opens with a heavy amount of myrrh. The white smoke is infused with elemi that reflects both its piney and its lemony characteristics. The patchouli arrives quietly on the sidelines, casting a tiny millimeter of spice to the cool, dusty, chilly notes. An equally muted hint of woodiness lurks in the base, evoking the pews in an old church. Much more significant, however, is another element not mentioned on the list — sweet myrrh or opoponax — which adds a honeyed touch to the bouquet. The overall effect evokes a cool, austere church in the middle of a forest and one whose wooden pews haven’t been dusted in months (or years).

Yet, even from the start, Ecclesiae may be the warmest, churchy, olibanum fragrance that I’ve ever tested. This is no brittle, High Mass fragrance with soapy, dusty, cold notes like Heeley‘s Cardinal, a fragrance that I personally found to be well-nigh unbearable with its piercing white musk and cotton. I haven’t tried the seminal Commes des Garcons‘ Avignon to compare, primarily because I generally find the “High Church” coldness, dustiness and soapiness of myrrh to be extremely difficult to handle. It doesn’t help that my skin often turns the note into soap by the end of a fragrance’s development as well.

The large incense thurible at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. Source: catholicpilgrim.org

The large incense thurible at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. Source: catholicpilgrim.org

So you can imagine my surprise at the difference here with Ecclesiae. This is a dusty, cool, white incense, yes, but there is something really lovely about how the notes are handled. It’s never too cool or barren, never too ancient and aloof in feel. There is the merest touch of warmth that ensures I never feel as though I were about to join some monks in a vow of silence in a very isolated, ancient church. At the same time, there is something honeyed about Ecclesiae that goes far beyond the usual waxy touches provided by sweet myrrh.

On the other hand, I don’t detect any sandalwood, and the patchouli isn’t at all distinct in its usual way at first. However, a few minutes in, there is a muted earthiness wafting around, along with the faintest flicker of something nuttied and vaguely chocolate-y. It wasn’t apparent in my first test when I only applied a small quantity of Ecclesiae, but 3 big dabs definitely bring out the perfume’s sweeter, richer undertones. As the warmer elements rise to the surface, the elemi’s lemon facets fade away, and its smell of chilled, fresh, pine needles soften.

FrankincenseTen minutes in, Ecclesiae is primarily an olibanum and sweet myrrh fragrance, lightly infused with muted patchouli and abstract woodiness. It hovers in a moderate, extremely lightweight, airy bouquet that wafts about 3 inches above the skin. I really like the scent, and find it to be very refined. There is a polished feel to Ecclesiae but, more importantly, it’s been perfectly calibrated so that the incense never feels ponderous, overly somber, or gloomy. My favorite part is the honeyed beeswax of the sweet myrrh which cuts through the dusty aspects of the myrrh, and thereby ensures that the perfume is never stony or icy.

"Javascapes" by Photographer Daniel G. Walczyk. Source: http://devidsketchbook.com

“Javascapes” by Photographer Daniel G. Walczyk. Source: http://devidsketchbook.com

Ecclesiae starts to slowly, very slowly, transform. The perfume grows warmer with every passing minute; the patchouli’s sweetness becomes more noticeable; and Ecclesiae takes on a creamy, beeswax softness as the sweet myrrh starts to build the bridge to the perfume’s second stage. Ecclesiae is also turning more indistinct and hazy in feel, as the notes start to overlap, and its sillage drops. At the end of 25 minutes, the fragrance is only about 1-2 inches above the skin.

Sometimes, I think I can detect patchouli proper, as there is an extremely subtle vein of earthiness that darts about. Most of the time, though, I wonder if it is my imagination, as the secondary, non-incense notes really lack clear delineation. There is something in the base that gives me a little bit of a temporary head twinge if I take really deep, prolonged sniffs, though it’s very minor and brief. It may be the slightly clean, soapy undertones to the myrrh, but perhaps it stems from the supposed “sandalwood.” I doubt it is the real stuff; I certainly smell nothing remotely like the Mysore wood in Ecclesiae. At best, the perfume has a generic creaminess in the base, though I think it results more from the truly lovely sweet myrrh.

Source: Robert.Maro.net

Source: Robert.Maro.net

The bridge that I mentioned at the start takes full shape at the end of the first hour, when the sweet myrrh starts to transform Ecclesiae. The perfume becomes creamier, smoother, and warmer, while the olibanum incense loses much of its remaining dustiness. Ecclesiae now feels like a very cozy church filled with candlelight from tapers dripping sweetened, creamy wax on soft floors, instead of a stony, barren, dusty place set in a forest. The sweet myrrh feels like a gateway into another world with a very different church dominated by entirely more oriental smells.

Beijing incense burning on Buddha's birthday. Photo: Jason Lee/Reuters via the WSJ

Beijing incense burning on Buddha’s birthday. Photo: Jason Lee/Reuters via the Wall Street Journal.

90 minutes in, Ecclesiae has suddenly turned into a spicy fragrance dominated by oriental frankincense smoke. It is thoroughly infused with an abstract woodiness, a peppered spiciness, and earthy touches. There is also something that most definitely smells like either bitter nutmeg or cloves, though I can’t explain why. The patchouli adds a reddish hue to the colour palette, while greenness arrives with the first hint of a dry, woody vetiver. The olibanum remains, but, as a whole, though, Ecclesiae is now dominated by black frankincense and warmth. It is a startling volte-face from the initial notes centered on white, dusty myrrh, to the point that you feel as though you’re in a very different place of worship. The notes are still blurry around the edges, but there is no mistaking that spicy, woody quality.

Incense stick. Source: Stock footage and Shutterstock.com.

Incense stick. Source: Stock footage and Shutterstock.com.

In fact, Fragrantica labels Ecclesiae as an “Oriental Woody” fragrance, something that initially perplexed me when I smelled the perfume’s opening notes on my skin. “Oriental” carries a very different connotation in my mind than that created by the “High Mass” churchy olibanum note with its cold facade. But Fragrantica is absolutely right in its assessment. Ecclesiae has a warm oriental heart, dominated by woody notes as much as it is by frankincense. In truth, Ecclesiae is really like two perfumes (and churches) in one, with the honeyed beeswax acting as a bridge between the two.

Ecclesiae remains largely the same for the next few hours. It is a warm, oriental, spicy, woody fragrance dominated by frankincense, with patchouli spices and earthiness, followed then by lingering strains of olibanum smoke and sweet myrrh. The vetiver is never really more than a muted flicker on my skin, while the sandalwood never shows up at all. What does appear, however, is a powdery quality that creeps in at the end of the third hour. The sillage drops even further, and Ecclesiae becomes a complete skin scent about 2.75 hours into its development.

Source: Wikicommons.

Source: Wikicommons.

Ecclesiae eventually turns into a blur of lightly powdered myrrh and frankincense after 4.25 hours, and it stays that way until its very end. There are growing touches of soapiness flitting about, but that may be simply the result of what my skin always does to olibanum. Either way, Ecclesiae is pretty linear, and very soft — both in feel and sillage. It is one of those fragrances that is so intimate in its projection that you’re constantly surprised when you see that it is still hanging on. All in all, it lasted just short of 9.5 hours, though I had to put my nose right on my skin in order to detect it by the middle of the 6th hour.

I couldn’t find any blog reviews for Ecclesiae, and the fragrance has no comments listed on its Fragrantica page. There isn’t even a Basenotes entry for it. In fact, Ecclesiae is not a fragrance that is carried in the U.S. at all. Generally, I try to avoid reviewing scents that are so limited in distribution or unknown, but I liked Ecclesiae quite a bit. Given my usual leeriness about olibanum, how painfully soapy it can become on my skin, and my dislike of dusty, cold “High Church” fragrances, I think that says something.

Alas, even if one were to order Ecclesiae from First in Fragrance in Europe (or Jovoy for EU customers), it is very expensive. The 100 ml bottle costs €225 which, at today’s exchange rate, comes to roughly $304 — and this is not a perfume worth $304, in my personal opinion. The perfume is too lightweight and sheer, the sillage is too weak, and the longevity iffy unless you apply a lot. That’s not merely my perception, either. On the Parfumo website (which is a bit like a European Fragrantica), Ecclesiae has no reviews but I was interested to see some votes for sillage or longevity:

  • 2 votes give the Longevity a 63% ranking;
  • 2 votes give the Sillage a 38% ranking.

It’s obviously not outstanding as a whole, but it’s a lot more troubling for $304 or €225.

Source: Fragrantica.

Source: Fragrantica.

I cannot tell you how much I wish Ecclesiae had more heft, weight, projection and richness. It is a thoroughly enjoyable take on incense fragrances, and feels extremely polished. Something about it reflects Italy’s inimitable, elegant, refined style, though I’m less enthused about the quiet discreetness that goes along with it. I would definitely wear Ecclesiae on occasion if a bottle ever fell into my lap, but I would never consider buying it. Then again, I’m not one who loves white incense passionately, so perhaps things might be different if I were a hardcore olibanum fan. Price is a subjective matter, after all.

So, if you truly love Churchy fragrances, then I encourage you to order a sample of Ecclesiae from Surrender to Chance or First in Fragrance. It’s very lovely, and nicely done.

DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Ecclesiae is an eau de parfum that comes in a 100 ml/3.4 oz size and costs €225. There are no American distributors for the Arte Profumi line that I could find. Arte Profumi has a website, but not an e-shop or a Stockist/Retailers list, so your best bet in obtaining the scent is from two big European perfume sites. Paris’ Jovoy and Germany’s First in Fragrance both carry the scent. The latter also sells samples and ships internationally. I couldn’t find any retailers in the UK, the Netherlands, or outside of Europe. If you’re in Italy, however, the company has two boutiques in Rome. Samples: Surrender to Chance now sells Ecclesiae starting at $4.50 for a 1/2 ml vial. There is also an Arte Profumi Sample Set starting at $12.99 for 3 of its fragrance (including Ecclesiae) in a 1/2 ml size.

Perfume Review: Jovoy Paris La Liturgie des Heures

Photo: StormchaserMike Photograph via Flickr (link to website embedded within.)

Photo: StormchaserMike Photograph via Flickr (link to website embedded within.)

A sea of pine trees as far as the eye can see, half covered with snow, half green-grey and reflecting the cold winter light. Pine cones and needles blanket the forest floor, releasing their fresh, pungent, resinous oil with every crunching footstep. A thin stream of white smoke issues from a nearby church, its ancient stones protecting its darkened, dusty inner sanctum where priests are getting ready for Mass. They light the candles for Vespers and burn the myrrh. It’s time for the one of the oldest canonical rituals of the Catholic Church, the Liturgy of the Hours.

That is the vision which comes to mind when I wear Jovoy Paris‘ fragrance, La Liturgie des Heures (hereinafter “Liturgie des Heures” or just “Liturgie.”) Most hardcore perfumistas have heard of Jovoy, a Paris boutique that is a mecca for buying the most high-end, exclusive or rare fragrances, but what many people don’t know is that Jovoy was once a perfume house. As Luckyscent explains, Jovoy was founded in 1923 by Blanche Arvoy and “was known for selling perfumes for the ‘gentlemen’s nieces’, a polite way Parisian dandies described buying gifts for their mistresses[.]” Amusingly, Jovoy itself candidly admits to this twist in its past:

The perfumes of the early hours of Jovoy were made for the mistresses of the Paris of the Roaring Twenties. In other world, opulent fragrance for women who wanted to be seen, using in quantities prohibited by modern law, raw material now often missing.

Jovoy Paris La Liturgie des Heures

Jovoy Paris La Liturgie des Heures

Though the house declined in the bleak years of the Depression and ended completely during WWII, it was resurrected in 2006 by Francois Hénin who launched a new range of fragrances. In 2011, La Liturgie des Heures joined their ranks. It is an eau de parfum that was created by Robertet perfumer, Jacques Flori, and which is described by Francois Hénin as evoking “the image of an old monastery where the scent of burning incense fills the air just like the chanting of daily prayers.” Fragrantica lists its notes as follows:

Top notes: fresh green notes, cypress
Heart notes: incense, olibanum [frankincense], cistus [labdanum], myrrh
Base notes: musk

Source: listofimages.com

Source: listofimages.com

pine-solLa Liturgie des Heures opens on my skin with a burst of pine trees, incense and green notes, followed by traces of a sweet, almost nutty myrrh, slightly leathered labdanum, and musk. One is transported to a cold, pine forest covered by crisp snow, but I have to admit, the notes are a little too reminiscent of pure pine oil and verge on a non-chemical version of Pine-Sol household cleaner. There is almost an oily feel to the pine, as if you had just mashed up the tree’s needles in your hands, leaving a strong, overly fragrant, concentrated oil behind. The aroma feels a little odd juxtaposed next to the leather undertones and the very cold, dry, vaguely dusty undertones of High Church incense. Yet, once you wrap your head around the combination, it almost feels pleasant.

As the minutes pass, the undertones of frankincense, myrrh and leather undulate, swaying from the foreground to the background. Sometimes, Liturgie smells like nothing more than a Christmas tree; at other times, the subtle touch of sweetness from the myrrh and churchy incense meet the pine notes head-on. Thirty minutes in, the base notes rise fully to the surface and the perfume becomes sweeter, more layered, and less like Pine-Sol oil. The myrrh turns the frankincense warmer, less dusty and arid, while the leather adds touches of a darker, almost leathery resin to the pine. A subtle, clean muskiness joins the trio and, flickering in the background, a subtle whiff of soapiness.

Photo: David Gunter Source: Flickr (website link embedded within photo.)

Photo: David Gunter Source: Flickr (website link embedded within photo.)

Liturgie continues on for another two hours as a warm, slightly sweetened, incense-infused, resinous pine tree scent with fluctuating levels of soapiness and musk. By the third hour, however, the clean white musk has grown in strength. Sharp and synthetic, it makes Liturgie feel a lot like Heeley‘s Cardinal, especially now that the pine note has receded to the background. I truly can’t stand synthetic white musk, let alone soapiness, and both elements form a strong backdrop to the scent. By the middle of the sixth hour, La Liturgie des Heures is primarily centered around nutty myrrh, ambered labdanum, and the sweet church incense — all infused with soap and clean, white musk.

The fragrance sticks on its linear course for another few hours, until it fades away to an amorphous, abstract, musky, clean sweetness. All in all, Liturgie lasted 8.25 hours on my skin and with moderate-to-low sillage. Others, however, have reported significantly less time, with one commentator on Basenotes writing that “[p]rojection is on the low side of average and longevity is well below average at 2-3 hours on skin.”

Liturgie wasn’t my cup of tea, and my feelings for it strongly parallel those of Freddie from Smelly Thoughts whose brief review reads as follows:

La Liturgie des Heures opens not too dissimilar to April Aromatics’ Calling All Angels, with its dry woods and incense, only this is a touch more peppery, and more “sticky”. Along with the overload of bitter resins and incense – bits of harsh greenery cut through it: pine and cypress mainly… a mix of sticky, sweet forest floor, and more herbal coniferous greens.

It pretty much stays this way throughout it’s life. It’s totally not my kind of perfume and not how I like to smell (also very bored of the overload of foresty/incense fragrances)… but still, this is a solid enough example for people who like that kind of thing :) Not bad!

I agree. It is a solid perfume that should please those who like churchy, incense fragrances — if they don’t mind either soapiness, white musk, or smelling just like a Christmas tree.

There are a number of High Church-type fragrances out there, but I’m only familiar with Heeley’s Cardinal. I think Liturgie has some similarities, but primarily in terms of the synthetic white musk. A Fragrantica commentator, “magic gingerbread,” who has far greater knowledge of this genre of fragrances has some interesting comparisons which may prove useful to a few of you:

Quite beautyful incense and coniferous fragrance reminding me somewhat Hinoki by CdG. Especially at the beginning when I smell raw olibanum resin and balmy, cold and fresh cypress note. This stage is unfortunately of rather weak sillage. Drydown is much stronger in projection, but no suprise in that, it is pure labdanum and that’s the way labdanum behaves – here it’s slightly sour, thick and oily, kind of like in Norma Kamali’s Incense. Nice, but I prefer olibanum stage.

The name “Liturgy of the hours” clearly suggests a churchy fragrance, but I don’t see it that way. Most certainly I don’t see any churchy association in corniferous olibanum note. However labdanum brings me some images of deep, old catacombs from the early age of christianity. Anyway, this is not catholic catherdal type of fragrance like Avignon or Cardinal.

Again, I’m not an expert on churchy fragrances, so I can’t comment on the comparisons. All I can say is that I love labdanum but didn’t enjoy its manifestation here, thanks to the impact of the terribly clean, soapy accord; and I found it hard to muster up much enthusiasm for La Liturgie des Heures as a whole. I think that stems, in part, because of some notes I really dislike, and, in part, because of Liturgie’s linearity. But it’s not a terrible fragrance and, if you’re really into churchy scents, then you may want to keep it in mind.

DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: La Liturgie des Heures is an eau de parfum that comes in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle that costs $180, €120, or  £100. It is available directly from Jovoy Paris which also offers a smaller 1.7 oz/50 ml bottle for €80. In the U.S.: it is available at Luckyscent, MinNY, Aedes, and Aaron’s Apothecary. Outside the U.S.: in the UK, La Liturgie des Heures is available in both sizes from Bloom Perfume, with the smaller 1.7 oz bottle retailing for £70. The larger size is also available at Roullier White in the 100 ml size for £100, with a sample also available for purchase, along with Harvey Nichols and Liberty London. In Italy, Liturgie is sold at Vittoria Profumi and Sacro Cuoro Profumi for €120. In France, you can also purchase it from Soleil d’Or. In Russia, it is sold at iPerfume. For Germany and the rest of Europe, you can purchase it from First in Fragrance in Germany (which also ships worldwide and sells samples) but the price is €5 higher at €125 a bottle. Same story with Germany’s MeinduftSamples: I obtained my sample from Surrender to Chance where prices start at $4.99 for a 1 ml vial. Many of the retailers listed above also sell samples of Liturgie.