Think Isabelle Doyen is all about the delicate/vampish femininity of the Annick Goutals ? Think again. The woman’s a rocker, and rightly belongs in the ballsy-female-perfumers pantheon alongside Saint Germaine Cellier. Consider Encens Flamboyant, from Goutal’s Les Orientalistes quartet: a tough incense bordering on leather. Or the weird electric-storm crackle of the latest, Un Matin d’Orage, which was originally meant to represent gardenia in the blinding white cosmic void of 2001 A Space Odyssey, with David Bowie’s Space Oddity on the soundtrack, before it was brought back to Earth and landed in a Japanese garden.
Or better yet, think of her playground, the supremely independent Les Nez, whose founder, René Schifferle, went along with her when she suggested making a perfume that smelled of nothing, L’Antimatière. (In fact, it does have a smell, but some people are anosmic to it.)
Or, the latest case in point, the amazingly gutsy Turtle Vetiver, dubbed “an outlaw perfume in progress”: only 80 bottles have been made of it, and when that runs out, Les Nez will issue a new variation.
If you love vetiver, go ahead and get this one. This is the real deal, as close as you can get to the actual smell of essence of vetiver, which is quite astounding to discover when you’re only used to smelling its reworked version: it’s rough, raw, surprisingly pungent and camphoraceous, with a phenolic guaic wood facet. Doyen has taken that rawness full-on without trying to give it a more amiable smile. Her vetiver scowls and grumbles in bass tones. But then… then it starts to morph and display, fleetingly, the myriad facets of this incredibly rich material: a whiff of something mineral and flinty, then the salty/grapefruit-y smell that I always identify with fresh sweat…
The fragrance defies the normal course of development, in a kind of olfactory quantum physics twist: instead of deepening, it back-pedals and lightens up, sheds its powerful medicinal notes to glide into sunny citrus, before revealing, after several hours, its hidden floral heart of jasmine. You thought you were listening to Iggy Pop in his Stooges period, and then he breaks into a velvet-voiced ballad…
I don’t know how Doyen did this, and what kind of chemical strings she pulled to achieve this particular kind of illusionism, but it’s a pretty astounding feat.
P.S. If you go on Les Nez’s website, you’ll notice that instead of cringingly following IFRA’s new guidelines, René Schifferle refuses to reformulate and posts the following warning: “As for all fragrances, we recommend you test a patch on your wrist before spraying the perfume.”
And please read Octavian Coifan's gorgeously perceptive take on this.
Image: Gjon Mili, 1946
Denyse,
RépondreSupprimerExcited to see a Stooges reference in the title of your post; triply excited that you followed through with it! (A little sad that the Francophones got something different.) Perfume and rock music...ephemeral though they might seem, they're two of the art forms that have the most meaning to my everyday life, and it's wonderful to hear them discussed in the same breath.
I was just looking at the Nasomatto website the other day; I've never smelled any of these perfumes, I can't comment on their quality or lack thereof. The perfumer comes off as some kind of wannabe rock star to me, in a way that I find obnoxious, pretentious, and immature. Rock music is way more than the sum of its drug references. It's about, among other things, gutsiness, innovation, and questioning authority; in my opinion, these are the qualities that make rock music universal and vital. Thanks for writing about a perfumer, and a perfume house, who embody these qualities for you; raising a lighter in cliched salute.
I would love to smell this Turtle Vetiver, just for the experience, but I suspect that I am not Polly Jean Harvey/Patti Smith enough to want to wear it on a regular basis. It sounds like it's odd in a way that is just a bit confrontational. I seem to be among a minority who like Un Matin d'Orage; love your comparison to Space Oddity and 2001. I think it is an oddball perfume. One needs to be willing to let go and just let oneself be carried away by the wet, green, sparking journey:
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
And as for wondering what chemical tricks Doyen might have been up to with Turtle Vetiver, well, that comes full circle to Raw Power and its most famous single, "Search and Destroy":
Look out ma, 'cause we're using technology...
And if there's anything that will bring us up out of the ashes of what we're experiencing in perfume right now, surely it is that attitude. Pure rock n' roll.
Charlotte: Raising a lighter right back at ya!
RépondreSupprimerIggy Pop is pretty special in my book: the only rock star who ever pulled me up on the stage to thrust his tongue in my mouth... And what a tongue that was for a 16-year-old... I used to perform "Search and Destroy" and "No Fun" with my band.
As for the Kubrick/Bowie reference, it's Doyen's own: she told me about it the other day.
Les Nez definitely has a rock'n'roll attitude (Nasomatto, not so much: I find most of their scents way too in-your-face and essentially posturing). Perfume is *my* drug of choice (that and Claritin).
Hello, Denyse. Well, that sealed it. I've been contemplating ordering some of this Turtle Vetiver unsniffed, and your review just put me over the edge. Bring it on, Isabelle! I'm ready for it...
RépondreSupprimerJarvis, I was just asking myself: "how many vetivers does one need?" Turns out my appetite for the stuff is equal to my tuberose cravings...
RépondreSupprimerI was wearing it recently, after nursing my sample for several months. You captured it well--raw power of a beautiful material. One cannot help but find it fascinating!
RépondreSupprimerreally great review, i really want some!!
RépondreSupprimerVictoria, I'd be curious to know if you get that strange reverse-engineering effect, which is clearly Doyen's own tweaking (BTW, she says hi) because it doesn't appear so significantly in the actual essence...
RépondreSupprimerRose, hurry while stocks last! ;-) And thank you.
RépondreSupprimerWhat a pleasure to see Doyen and Les Nez getting their props today. I only have a sample of Turtle Vetiver, but it is everything you say it is, and I just caved on two other Les Nez Doyen creations yesterday after hoarding my samples for over a year. I was partly motivated by reformulation fears but now I feel even better to have supported a house that refuses to give in to that nonsense! I haven't tried the Goutal yet, but I will be thinking of that Space Bowie Gardenia when I do. Lucky you, getting to chat with Doyen.
RépondreSupprimerP.S. Not to mention Iggy Pop's tongue down your teenage throat! What a life you've led...
RépondreSupprimerAlyssa, Doyen and Les Nez deserve a loyal following for their cojones. If you order, be sure to get a sample of Sandrine Videault's Manoumalia too, it's a wonderfully natural-feeling exotic I've just fallen in love with. Too.
RépondreSupprimerAnd P.S. Yup. And under David Bowie's eyes too -- he was on keyboards for The Idiot tour. Swoon! I formed an all-girl band that very night.
RépondreSupprimerPourquoi "turtle"? Perhaps I'm dim, but I'm not getting it.
RépondreSupprimerAlso -- Iggy Pop! Tongue!! Oh, my!!!
Oh, yes, I received my sample of Manoumalia in the dead of winter, and loved it then. Will have to try it again now that everything is warm and green.
RépondreSupprimerTo me, Les Nez is an example of how to do things right.
And what I wouldn't give for a photo (and a cassette!) of your girl band. Or a copy of your memoirs. But I am sure you are still adding chapters... ;-)
Oh right, A., Turtle. I forgot to explain that part. The fragrance in progress is part of the Turtle project (http://www.turtlesalon.com/index.html), the "anarchic salon" of artist Michael H. Shamburg. I'm not entirely sure what that entails but it looks pretty cool.
RépondreSupprimerAlyssa, it didn't last long enough for either. None of my bands did: this was the punk era.
RépondreSupprimerMemoirs, I keep telling myself I ought to write. I just don't know when/how/where to start. And the litigation potential is awesome...
I'm absolutely getting a bottle of Manoumalia. I'm sure it'll be a summer favorite.
Denyse: I'm quite fond of Manoumalia too. It's on my ever-growing list of FBW fragrances. (If only my bank balance were ever-growing as well).
RépondreSupprimerJarvis, I'd have thought you would find it too floral for you? Only goes to show...
RépondreSupprimerDenyse: I have apparently become shameless about wearing and enjoying florals. In this case, though, I feel like there is something (vetiver?) that cuts the creaminess of the tropical flowers in a most appealing way.
RépondreSupprimerJarvis: I'd be the last person to cast a stone! Or a flower for that matter.
RépondreSupprimerMusically and olfactory raw and there is a reason it's an "outlaw" perfume. It really is, these days. ;-)
RépondreSupprimerAs to "Turtle", there is a wonderful background story on this, more than meets the eye, which makes it all the more worthy of purchase and support; Isabelle should have told you about it, then again she's modest about those things, which is just as praiseworthy. Perfume (like art) can be a universal healer and communicator. I find that endearing...
Helg, we actually discussed so many things (it wasn't an interview, just a long rambling get-acquainted conversation in the lab) that it never came up: she just basically handed me a decant. Thanks for providing the link: it *is* a great story!
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