hortus conclusus

Little Stars is another gorgeous orchid sc ent from this enormously talented perfumer, brand new on the scene. Ellen mentions on her blog that the orchid on which she bases this fragrance is night-blooming—that always a descriptor that intrigues us sensually minded perfume-folk. This one is a heavy, well-made dark spicy citrus floral, with a clove,citrus, and deep woods composition evocative of the most humid, tropical nights. The perfumer's notes suggest this is meant to evoke the nighttime in a steamy jungle, and I can see that. I love the spicy green woodiness of this one—it truly does smell ultra-tropical, and also almost holographically orchid-like. Very impressive composition indeed, with a really natural sense of balance and proportion. The synthetic oud and tea notes blend in seamlessly, opening up the scent experience alongside a delicious sour citrus--the whole top part of the perfume’s composition tends towards a certain soapy tanginess that I think is definitely uni...

Elena of Perfume Shrine recently sent me a bottle of Andy Tauer’s latest creation, Carillon pour un ange! Of course, thrilled and so eager to smell the new lily of the valley composition—which is bound to be delightfully challenging and unique coming from Tauer--I tore open the dainty box and sprayed it on my waiting wrists! Lo and behold, an angel of the Lord came down and  glory shone around…..well, noooo, but I did gasp in surprise and wonder at the brilliance of this new fragrance. It is golden green—I can’t think of another way to de scribe it but in color. That famous bitter, almost oily, Tauer  citrus peel, an intense grassy  green, and a lush, wet, overwhelming Lily-of-the-valley. This is damp gorgeousness, and not an everyday perfume—it is too decadent for that. I find myself thi nking about gold filigree, baroque symphonies, in a lush contrapuntal swell of color, sound and memory. Breathtaking.   CREDITS: Stained glass windows in the Maus...

in the darker, more atavistic versions of Sleeping Beauty, the dormant castle is surrounded by an impenetrable wall of rose briars, with gigantic thorns that impale the hapless princes who try to push through to the interior in which the lovely princess lies in her enchanted coma. The princes’ bodies hang on that monstrous rose hedge, decomposing until they are naught but skeletons. This image haunted me when I was young, as it still does now, being one of the most disturbing of a a whole series of folktales which emphasize not only the rose’s beauty, but also its danger—for below the smooth silk-plush blossoms, like spikes and thorns, jagged leaves, and pain. This is one of the reasons I believe the rose makes such a perfect symbol for love—a thing of great beauty as well as undeniable pain. Dyptique’s l’ombre dans l’eau captures this dark green danger of the rose, I believe. It is not as menacing as a wall of gigantic malignant thorns, but it does explore the stems and leaves a...

I’m trying something a little different for the Scents of the Mediterranean Blogfest—in honor of Ines, who, I know, loves fiction, I have written a little story about the perfume trade in the Mediterranean in the 13 th century… Let me know what you think. Thanks to Ines of “All I am-a Redhead” and Elena of “Perfume Shrine” for organizing this fun party! The sun—God’s candle, some call it—shines on a busy scene in the 13 th century northern Mediterranean port city. Ships pull close to shore, and a multiethnic population of sailors, merchants, and dogsbodies energetically heave large chests out of the wooden ships’ great bellies. You can almost imagine the laden ships breathing a sigh of relief as their month-long indigestion is suddenly, finally cured. “Finally, that sharp point in my belly on the left side has eased off” your imaginary sentient ship declares to the larger more gruff neighbor to the west in the bay. You laugh indulgently at your private flight of fancy, a moment o...

Well, here we are at the last Tauer review (at least for now, until Andy releases his new fragrances) and I feel a little melancholy to have completed this project! It has been a blast exploring this exotic and fragrant world with you. But since we are at our last review, I chose to try something a little different. I am going to review Lonestar Memories through the lens of my own memories of my artist/cowboy uncle, whose face immediately came to mind the first moment I smelled this sagey, western fragrance. My uncle Bruce started out as a talented artist making his living painting watercolors and creating pots, table tops and other useful and decorative items o ut of fiberglass. Then in the late 1980’s he designed and directed the building of Transisco tours’ "The 49er Express", a dining/tourist train which ran in northern California and Nevada. He and my aunt Roxanne were the owners of Dr. Hoys, a line of body products  that he developed, manufactured and sold for man...

I’m not some huge videogame buff, much preferring to spend my leisure hours reading, hanging with friends, or even watching shows, but once in a while I do enjoy a good zone-out on our Playstation or Wii consoles. The proble m I have with videogames is that they are often too violent for my tastes, or they require some sort of intense focus, which is about the last thing I want after a long day studying. To my great delight, I have found a game—or really, two games—on the Wii console that I really enjoy playing. Called Lostwinds and Lostwinds: Winter of the Melodias , this game allows you and a companion to wander through a Zen-like natural landscape on a slow-moving quest to do something or other (the plot’s just not that important, and there’s no hurry). It’s meditative, beautiful, and best of all, it is fragrant! Well, you can’t actually smell all the flowers in bloom, but you can see them release their scent and pollen in the air—it’s the next best thing to really sme...

. Krh'ssai nu' pot? w?^d? e?mmele'ws po'dessin w?rxeu^nt? a?pa'lois a?mf? epo'enta Bw^mon po'as te'pen a?'nðos ma'lakon ma'teisai. Thus sometimes, the Cretan women, tender footed, dance in measure round the fair altar , crushing the fine bloom of the grass. Grassy scents for your consideration: Balmain Vent Vert Tommy Hilfiger T Girl CB I hate perfumes To See a Flower Nasomatto Hindu Grass Tauer Vetiver Dance Demeter Firefly Weil Bambou and antilope Gap Grass (I haven’t tried this) Annick Goutal Petite Cherie And a grass scent that ‘de-stresses’ here Marc Jacobs Grass Other ideas? CREDITS: Claude Lorraine painting and 3 dancing nymphs relief from Wikimedia Commons, Sappho poem and translation at Sacredtexts.com

Sometimes the world is too much with us. Like when our oceans are pouring black blood , and uncomprehending animals are caught in a dark tide that ends their world, not with a bang but a whimper. we feel we can do nothing but suffer with them, as the gorge rises in our throats like that black bile coming from the hellish belly of the earth. NO human effort seems worthwhile in such an atmosphere of despair. Certainly no aesthetic enjoyment should be contemplated. Who are we to laugh, to smile, to think even, when we have perpetrated such horrors? But yet, there is still love, and maybe there is hope, though I doubt it very much….. On days like these, when the wind blows and the rain falls, as if sympathetic to our bootless despair, there is nothing to do but cry for a lost world. But yet , there is still George Harrison, singing his heartbreakingly lovely “I Live For you,” the most melancholy yet gorgeous love song of all time. But yet , there is the enormously...

  First, a reminder to enter in the drawing for a Tauer Perfumes Discovery set HERE Enjoying a G & T on our pack patio last nig ht while my husband barbecued, I saw a hilarious thing. This little chipmunk was sitting, as still as can be, on my terracotta statuette of St. Francis of Assisi. Now, as you all probably know, St Francis is the patron saint of animals. The first real Western environmentalist, so to speak. So I thought it was pretty funny that this little creature chose to perch on the saint’s head as sanctuary from my cat Oliver, who was regarding the little chipmunk with, shall we say, an interested eye. Saint Francis must have been doing his job, for no great bloody drama ensued. I have been enjoying my little garden lately. It’s nothing special, but it’s mine, and things have been blooming like the dickens lately. The herbs—lavender, thyme, oregano, chives, tarragon, basil, dill, smell fabulous, as do the geranium leaves, the little roses, and the dirt i...

Just another glossy irritation today. I got my copy of American Elle in the mail yesterday, and while browsing it today, I came across another one of those irritating anti-perfume mini perfume articles . You know, the kind of little blurb that starts out looking like it is pro scent, but then just panders to all the scent-haters out there. This one really rubbed me wrong.   I took a pic of the page (136) on the right, but in case   you can’t read it, it says a recent study discovered that the smell of peppermint reduces anxiety (well, that seems pretty obvious to anyone who thinks aromatherapy even kind of works) but then goes on to tell the ‘fragrance-phobic’ that they needn’t worry, since just smelling the mint for a moment had the same effect as sensing it in the air for an extended period of time. (at least I think that’s what the fairly unclear blurb is saying. It could be saying the subjects were detecting trace amounts of peppermint in the air subliminally, so ...

I’ll let this incredible excerpt from Christopher Smart’s  (1722-1771) Jubliate Agno (see full text at pseudopodium.com ) speak for its own crazy, fabulous, hallucinatory self. He wrote this weird, sprawling, obsessive religious poem at least partly while in an insane asylum, locked up for his supposed religious mania. I think he must have written this part in there, in a wistful remembrance of the beauty of the natural world outside his confinement. Here’s to flowers, in the bottle and out of it! FROM JUBILATE AGNO: For the doubling of flowers is the improvement of the gardners talent. For the flowers are great blessings. For the Lord made a Nosegay in the meadow with his disciples and preached upon the lily. For the angels of God took it out of his hand and carried it to the Height. For a man cannot have publick spirit, who is void of private benevolence. For there is no Height in which there are not flowers. For flowers have great virtues for all the senses. For the...

ADVENTURES IN SINAESTHESIA When the generous and enormously talented perfumer Andy Tauer was kind enough to send me samples of all his fragrances—and an adorable sample set to give away (details soon)—I was thrilled. I was especially thrilled to find a sample of his Vetiver Dance within one of the adorable embossed tins, for as you may know, I adore vetiver, and any fragrance with vetiver in the name is pretty exciting for me.   SO, I did what any self-respecting perfume-loving bon vivant would on a sunny Memorial Day weekend. I spritzed on Vetiver Dance and went on a picnic, prophesying that a vetiver fragrance would go well with a sunny day down by the river. I was right! Vetiver Dance opens up with a bouquet of pepper, rose, and citrus—Grapefruit, yes, I can detect that..and stays fruity for quite a while. This makes it go very well with the gin and tonics my beloved had the foresight to pack in our picnic basket! In fact, this fragrance played very well with all the food we...