hortus conclusus

I find it very interesting that Mary Magdalene is the patron saint of perfume. Her legend is so multifaceted, so sensory, and so deeply complex that I have to concede that she makes a perfect object of contemplation for the perfumer (and the lover of perfume, of course!). Her status (erroneously attributed to her in the sixth century by the ubiquitous Legenda Aurea   or The Golden Legend i n English) as a reformed prostitute landed her squarely in the world of the sensual, and her ritualistic, emotive actions subsequent to her conversion only enhanced this reputation. For example, Mary Magdalene was believed to have washed Jesus’ feet with her penitent tears and a whole box of spikenard; perfuming them, if you will, with the liquid of new-found holiness. The passage is so super-sensual I’ll include it here: Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the odour of the...

For my birthday yesterday I received a surprise present from my father; a bottle of one of those scents from my childhood that gets the wheels of my bittersweet memory turning. I don’t know what made my father decide to part with this bottle; it was a gift of a vintage bottle of Geo F. Trumper’s Wild Fern from one of the greatest bon vivants in my family of bon vivants, who sadly died of pancreatic cancer some years ago. I loved him, and miss him often, so anything that reminds me of him makes me somewhat sad—I feel like we lost him too soon. That said, I am very happy to have this bottle in my collection. It is precious to me. I remember the smell of this bottle, the gorgeousness of the green marbled tin, my surreptitious sniffs at the lid—this is probably the very bottle that made me fall in love with Fougeres—and perhaps with fragrance in general! It has a bitter citrus opening, deep anisic note, a definite greenness and a note of what might be bitter almond which quickl...

A well thought-out perfume could be the best Mothers Day gift choice ever if you follow a few simple guidelines. Your mom will be flattered and happy that you took the time to seek out a custom scent you know she will love,  and it is one of those gifts that keep gibing; every time your mom spritzes on that fragrance she is sure to think of you lovingly. Before you go shopping, take a few minutes to think about the following items, and you are sure to choose a perfume that pleases mom! determine whether your mom is a romantic or a classic or a minimalist, a sensualist or a prude, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. For example,  a sensualist may be more drawn to musky fragrances, but if your mom was too shy to give you the ‘birds and bees talk’ and never divulged her secret hopes and desires in your memory, you might consider sticking with florals has she ever mentioned a smell she particularly loves? You can search Baseno...

Today is my birthday, April 18th, and I have always found it significant that it also happens to be the day that the pilgrims in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales set out on their pilgrimage, “the holy Blissful martir for to seke/ that hem hath holpen whan that they were seke.” As a medievalist, I love it that I share my special day (well, at least the day of my birth) with one of the greatest compositions in the English language, as well as the fact that the tales open with an invocation of springtime and rebirth, an idea that I am always in love with this time of year: "Whan that Aprille with his shoores soote/ the dorughte of March hath perced to the roote/ and bathed every veyne in swich licour, / of which vertu engendred is the flour...and smalle foweles maken melodye / that slepen all the nyght with open eye/ So priketh hem Nature in hir corages, / Than longen foolk to goon on pilgrimages /And palmeres for to seken straunge strandes / to ferne halwes, kouthe in sondry londes....

NO perfume can capture the absolute delight of strawberries and cream, and that is a great pity. Today I enjoyed my first bowl of fresh cut strawberries floating in whole milk and sugar, and I have to say that few things delight me more. I love the tangy, acidic muskiness of the strawberries in contrast with the smooth creaminess of the milk, and the way the fruity juice from the strawberries slowly turns the milk pink and imparts the most beautiful flavor.  I was racking my brain for a scent that emulates the unique joy of this culinary combination, but all I could think of were failed attempts ( Miss Dior Cherie , Victoria’s Secret Strawberries and Champagne ). I have not tried Fragonard’s Juste un Baiser , which supposedly has notes of strawberry and vanilla, but I would be surprised if it were successful. I remember trying a Voluspa fragrance a long time ago th at seemed like a very tart, floral, wild strawberry, but alas, I have forgotten its name…. Another I must try is N...

AFTER some deliberation, I have changed the name of this blog from “Life As Art” to “hortus conclusus,” which I feel better represents the nature of this site. “Life as art” seemed a little too general, although I like the idea behind it, that aesthetics should be an integral part of one’s life.  I chose hortus conclusus as the new title because it draws upon multiple layers of history art and symbolism. Hortus conclusus is Latin for ‘enclosed garden,’ and was first writ ten down in the Vulgate translation of the Bible, in that great erotic—and fragrant—poem, the Song of Songs : “ Hortus conclusus soror mea, sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus”: An enclosed garden is my sister, my wife, a sealed fountain. In the Middle Ages, my area of research, the hortus conclusus was a popular kind of garden cultivated by many, as well as a powerful symbol of the erotic potential of a virginal woman. I like to think of perfume as a kind of ‘encl osed garden,’ the glass bottle a wall surroun...

The Hawaiian volcano goddess Pele goes to sleep to dream of the perfect lover, and in her nine-day slumber in a little cottage thatched with leaves in a room redolent with the scent of the hana, she dreams of her appearance to her chosen consort: “Pele's spirit now put on the body of strong healthful youth. Nor was there any blemish in her beauty and symmetry from head to foot. She was anointed with all the fragrant oils of Puna. Her dress was the splendid garland of the red lehua flower and maile leaf and the fern from the dwelling-places of the gods. The tender vines of the deep woods veiled this queen of the crater. In glorious young womanhood she went to the halau. The dark body of a great mist enveloped her.” ( Pele’s Long Sleep ) What a gorgeous image of power, danger, beauty, and fragrance! Although many people associate the beautiful fragrances of Hawai’i with carefree times and vacations, I often think of the mysterious legendar...

IN honor of spring, I have composed a floral cocktail that captures the fragrance of flowers and allows you to eat them. Of course, the idea of drinking flowers is nothing new. After all, perfumers must add that nasty compound to keep people from drinking their creations—and apparently this is still a problem in Russia , believe it or not! If you think about it though, we drink flowers ore often that we think about it. Jasmine tea, chamomile and hibiscus drinks are all made of flowers, as is one of my very favorite teas, China Rose . I named my cocktail, rather obviously, Floralia, but you can call it whatever you like. It is very feminine and fresh, and I really like it. First, zest a teaspoon’s worth of lemon peel and put it in a teapot with 1 tablespoon jasmine tea, one tablespoon chamomile tea, and rose petals, if you have them. Pour approximately two cups boiling water in the pot and let it steep until at least lukewarm. In a co cktail shaker, squeeze and then drop in one large ...

I know this is old news for a lot of you, but I need to get my two cents in on everything, so I’m going to tell you what I, la Bonne Vivante, think of Annick Goutal’s Mandragore . First of all, this is an awesome name, conjuring images of village wise women pounding down mandrake roots in mortars and pestles, aphrodisiac concoctions containing dangerous ingredients like belladonna, hensbane, and mandrake,  and metempsychosis, the movement of a soul from one entity to another. And, of course, now the Harry Potter books, where Rowling uses the traditional folklore of the screaming root to great effect. My favorite literary reference to mandrake next to its use in the Old Testament to imply sexual intercourse (see the Song of Songs and Genesis 30 ) is the Great John Donne’s poem of impossibilities: Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil’s foot; Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off ...

Last Tuesday I picked up some gorgeous daffodils which were just about to open at my thesis advisor’s house. They opened over the next few days and filled the room with that ethereal jonquil smell—green, powdery, and very light. They looked positively luminous on our dining table, and I enjoyed every second of their presence in my home. Now, 6 days later, they look like this. I guess because I’m a literary type, I read this as a symbol, a reminder of the brevity of all beauty in our lives, and as a reminder to enjoy what we have while we have it. Fragrance functions as just such a reminder, a memento mori , for me every day. In its ever so brief lifespan, a fragrance is born, flowers, and decays , over a length of time comparable to the lifespan of a mayfly. Nothing Gold can Stay, by Robert Frost: Nature's first green is gold Her hardest hue to hold.  Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to gri...