Cierge de Lune Aedes de Venustas 2016

Cierge de Lune. A cactus that blooms at night, hence also called the "Queen of the Night." But the name refers not only to the plant - whose scent I am not familiar with - but explicitly also to the character from Mozart.

It seems to me that this should be stated at the outset, however, a reference to the infamous Hell aria with its high notes is completely out of place. I feel nothing of the "crystalline high notes," as the manufacturer puts it - the biting of the transport alcohol can hardly be what is meant. If anyone is not familiar with the piece: there are numerous recordings available online. The range goes from the spectacularly gruesome performance of Florence Foster Jenkins (youtube.com/watch?v=ZD-_2QEXCRk - the record has been circulating in "expanded professional circles" for decades, not just since the film) to world-class recordings, among which the one by the untimely deceased Lucia Popp stands out (youtube.com/watch?v=Zt56hgQe1co).

No, no, even the comparatively restrained aria "O zittre nicht, mein lieber Sohn!" (youtube.com/watch?v=aJA1dFqr1QI) is daring in this regard. If we are talking about The Magic Flute, then the more lyrical Pamina comes to mind from its cast. She is simply a notch more relaxed, which fits better…

…with the scent: delicate, tame, fragrant vanilla on a thin leather base. Including a…dusty-stony quality? Flint, freshly crushed? Just a spark of an idea. If those were the so-called "high notes," they would originate from Mrs. Foster-Jenkins' thin throat. However, there is definitely a bit of bitterness as a counterbalance. To elaborate on the "wild" leather thread, there’s something reminiscent of the gentle mustiness of a wild dish, perhaps venison goulash with cranberries, as a hint of fruity sourness is also involved.

And honey, in further tests, I perceive it as the class leader of the first hour. In conjunction with a sweet smokiness that I recognize from 03.Apr.1968 by Rundholz. Including a certain "sting" that gives the already mentioned hint of fruit a slight aura of morbidity. It is quite conceivable that a plant from southern climes attracts such nocturnal flutterers.

Interim conclusion: Overall, I had expected significantly more vanilla.

The second phase of the scent shows a completely different face. Throughout the morning, it develops airily and distantly. Only a faint trace of the former sweetness remains, reminiscent from afar of baking aroma. Bitter, but by no means dark vanilla gradually takes over and drifts in a dusty-dull direction. Inherently, there is also something waxy, even with a slight hint of plastic.

In the afternoon, an intermezzo forms on the skin in the form of a floral undertone, almost like fruit candy rose. But soon we return to our dusty, unsweet vanilla, in which, alongside a trace of smoke, leathery aspects can still be discovered. I increasingly think of light wood. The scent lasts into the evening, with occasional flickers of honey reminiscences.

Conclusion: Literally at every moment, I feel with Cierge de Lune as if I have smelled all of this before, and not just once. Nevertheless, the scent is simply successful and certainly a test tip in the endurance of its high-quality appearance.

I thank MisterE for the sample. I gave the rest to my son (12), who loves vanilla scents and was thrilled. One morning, he came out of the bathroom more mischievous than usual - he had sprayed himself with it. He shouldn't go to school like that... Now that I think about it: why not? The boy clearly has taste!