27
Top Review
Queer Legends, Part 1
Hadrian and Antinous - here we go again!
After Marguerite Yourcenar's famous 'Memoirs of Hadrian' and Rufus Wainwright's opera 'Hadrian', this fragrance is also dedicated to the undoubtedly most famous queer couple of antiquity.
The Roman emperor and his youthful lover, who died so early and under mysterious circumstances, elevated by Hadrian to a god, even to a celestial body, honored with the founding of a city and countless statues - the two evidently have a resurgence.
Fragrances that feature 'Peau' in their name are certainly experiencing a resurgence:
'Fleur de Peau', 'Peau de Bête', 'Dans la Peau', 'Porter Sa Peau', 'Brin de Peau' and so on and so forth. There have been several 'Peau' fragrances in the past: since 1901, the fine-leather 'Peau d’Espagne' from the Florentine brand Santa Maria Novella, for example, or since 1986, the animalic-fruity chypre hit 'Parfum de Peau' by Montana.
However, unlike fragrances that today carry 'Peau' in their name, the term was primarily used back then as a synonym for 'Cuir', meaning tanned animal skin. The human epidermis, whose olfactory mélange surrounds us like a fragrant silhouette and forms our olfactory fingerprint, has only recently come into focus.
A highly popular synthetic compound today called 'Cashmeran' plays a significant role here. It attempts to evoke the scent of clean, delicate, childlike skin: finely creamed, tonka-sweet, fluffy, and soft. Combined with a subtle musk accord and some salty sprinkles, we are already sinking into the arms of Frédéric Malle's wonderful 'Dans tes Bras', a fragrance that conveys physical closeness without any hint of lust. We eventually reach this terrain when a pinch of cumin adds a sweaty accent (wonderfully showcased in 'Eau d’Hermès'), or a hint of costus conveys the idea of damp (pubic) hair to our olfactory cells - the original formula of 'Kouros' is said to have contained some of that.
But to get out of this sleazy corner: the 'Peau' inspired by Hadrian and Antinous from Arquiste remains relatively chaste, the pants only slightly unzipped - a lascivious gesture, nothing more. Rather, the duo Huber and Flores-Roux were guided by a very special skin, the marble skin of ancient statues. A skin that does not exist in such a natural form, which is why 'stone surface' would be the more fitting expression. However, in some statues, it is so artfully worked that it achieves a transparency that one might almost think life pulses beneath it, as if one could follow an internal muscular play.
Such a faux skin does not smell, or if it does, then at best mineral or dusty, but this stone-encased liveliness at least allows the illusion to arise that it might actually emit a scent. And this is exactly where 'Peau' comes in: the fragrance hovers between cool, smooth-polished marble skin and real, living warmth. An idealized skin scent, so to speak, the olfactory outline of his too-bright marble beloved, or as Arquiste puts it: “Paying tribute to the beloved, like Hadrian did Antinoös, this fragrance captures the memory of skin, conjuring intimacy and closeness, and living in our hearts and minds as an idealized scent.”
Marketing mumbo-jumbo?
Perhaps.
It is likely the opposite is true: it was not the emperor and his young lover who inspired 'Peau', but simply the fact that the theme of 'skin' had not yet been fully explored in their portfolio. With 'Sydney Rock Pool', they had already ventured onto this path, but the fragrance rather depicted the image of a pool scene under the glaring sun of Australia, which offers plenty of skin but zero intimacy. And is there anything more intimate than the scent of skin?!
Perhaps the responsible parties had a kind of 'Dans Tes Bras' in Arquiste attire in mind. However, since one cannot simply let their own creations float abstractly, a concrete date and a plausible setting were needed, and voilà: 'AD 134, Villa Adriana, Tivoli, Italy', Hadrian's summer and retirement residence, where the perhaps most famous Antinous statue, which can be admired today in the Louvre, originally stood.
The location is well chosen. The Arquiste team proves considerable skill in unfolding vivid backdrops that flicker behind their creations like short film sequences, translated by 'Peau' with dry-spicy, powdery-mineral, and light-woody accords, where there is subtly a touch of humanity in the background. Since the perfumer is contracted with the Swiss fragrance manufacturer Givaudan, it is obvious that some Givaudan-typical scent materials are used here, foremost 'Ambrofix' (aka 'Ambroxan'), formerly 'Ambroxide', a synthetic substitute introduced in the 1950s for the infinitely expensive and extremely rare 'Gray Amber'. Also included is 'Ambermax', an amber-like molecule with facets of cedarwood and iris, as well as 'Okoumal', another amber fragrance material with woody accents and tobacco nuances.
Flores-Roux now combines the synthetic amber substitute with a hint of musk, as well as the complex spiciness of clary sage (whose ingredient 'Sclareol' is in turn a precursor for 'Ambrofix') and may come a bit closer to the broad spectrum of the natural amber scent, but primarily brings it ashore, out of the sea. With all the Ambroxan use, 'Peau' is not an aquatic, not a 'blue' fragrance, although the sea is there, you sense it, but rather of a light, beige tone.
A pinch of pepper and some dry-spicy coriander seeds stabilize this (skin) tone, which in turn is framed by the warm sound of the resinous amber base - fortunately without the all-too-popular vanilla and tonka sweetness!
After wearing it several times, I can say that 'Peau' is a truly pleasant companion. Not too offensive, but also not a so-called 'skin scent' (which the name 'Peau' might almost suggest). No, 'Peau' actually develops a remarkable projection and scent trail, even with a low dosage.
What I also like about 'Peau' is the interplay between classic, represented by the amber accord (or the likenesses of Hadrian and Antinous), and modernity, which is reflected in the so-called 'Woody-Amber' base, or in us, who wear these 'Woody-Amber'-based fragrances while standing in front of these ancient statues, whose marble, worked many centuries ago, seems to emit imaginary scent trails: trails of dry earth, ancient writings, polished stone, of coast and sea, and the idea of previously balmed, now mummy-like parchment skin.
Such an ancient-modern fragrance cosmos cannot, of course, emerge from a mundane glass bottle; it requires a kind of contemporary amphora, to which the black-tinted container, etched with outlines of scantily clad Romans in the style of an ancient vase, indeed somewhat transforms through its roughened surface.
Sappho, another queer legend of antiquity, has already been honored with a fragrance painting, as has Christopher Marlowe, to touch on something more modern.
And how about Fritz and Katte next?
With Gertrude and Alice?
I’d be in!
After Marguerite Yourcenar's famous 'Memoirs of Hadrian' and Rufus Wainwright's opera 'Hadrian', this fragrance is also dedicated to the undoubtedly most famous queer couple of antiquity.
The Roman emperor and his youthful lover, who died so early and under mysterious circumstances, elevated by Hadrian to a god, even to a celestial body, honored with the founding of a city and countless statues - the two evidently have a resurgence.
Fragrances that feature 'Peau' in their name are certainly experiencing a resurgence:
'Fleur de Peau', 'Peau de Bête', 'Dans la Peau', 'Porter Sa Peau', 'Brin de Peau' and so on and so forth. There have been several 'Peau' fragrances in the past: since 1901, the fine-leather 'Peau d’Espagne' from the Florentine brand Santa Maria Novella, for example, or since 1986, the animalic-fruity chypre hit 'Parfum de Peau' by Montana.
However, unlike fragrances that today carry 'Peau' in their name, the term was primarily used back then as a synonym for 'Cuir', meaning tanned animal skin. The human epidermis, whose olfactory mélange surrounds us like a fragrant silhouette and forms our olfactory fingerprint, has only recently come into focus.
A highly popular synthetic compound today called 'Cashmeran' plays a significant role here. It attempts to evoke the scent of clean, delicate, childlike skin: finely creamed, tonka-sweet, fluffy, and soft. Combined with a subtle musk accord and some salty sprinkles, we are already sinking into the arms of Frédéric Malle's wonderful 'Dans tes Bras', a fragrance that conveys physical closeness without any hint of lust. We eventually reach this terrain when a pinch of cumin adds a sweaty accent (wonderfully showcased in 'Eau d’Hermès'), or a hint of costus conveys the idea of damp (pubic) hair to our olfactory cells - the original formula of 'Kouros' is said to have contained some of that.
But to get out of this sleazy corner: the 'Peau' inspired by Hadrian and Antinous from Arquiste remains relatively chaste, the pants only slightly unzipped - a lascivious gesture, nothing more. Rather, the duo Huber and Flores-Roux were guided by a very special skin, the marble skin of ancient statues. A skin that does not exist in such a natural form, which is why 'stone surface' would be the more fitting expression. However, in some statues, it is so artfully worked that it achieves a transparency that one might almost think life pulses beneath it, as if one could follow an internal muscular play.
Such a faux skin does not smell, or if it does, then at best mineral or dusty, but this stone-encased liveliness at least allows the illusion to arise that it might actually emit a scent. And this is exactly where 'Peau' comes in: the fragrance hovers between cool, smooth-polished marble skin and real, living warmth. An idealized skin scent, so to speak, the olfactory outline of his too-bright marble beloved, or as Arquiste puts it: “Paying tribute to the beloved, like Hadrian did Antinoös, this fragrance captures the memory of skin, conjuring intimacy and closeness, and living in our hearts and minds as an idealized scent.”
Marketing mumbo-jumbo?
Perhaps.
It is likely the opposite is true: it was not the emperor and his young lover who inspired 'Peau', but simply the fact that the theme of 'skin' had not yet been fully explored in their portfolio. With 'Sydney Rock Pool', they had already ventured onto this path, but the fragrance rather depicted the image of a pool scene under the glaring sun of Australia, which offers plenty of skin but zero intimacy. And is there anything more intimate than the scent of skin?!
Perhaps the responsible parties had a kind of 'Dans Tes Bras' in Arquiste attire in mind. However, since one cannot simply let their own creations float abstractly, a concrete date and a plausible setting were needed, and voilà: 'AD 134, Villa Adriana, Tivoli, Italy', Hadrian's summer and retirement residence, where the perhaps most famous Antinous statue, which can be admired today in the Louvre, originally stood.
The location is well chosen. The Arquiste team proves considerable skill in unfolding vivid backdrops that flicker behind their creations like short film sequences, translated by 'Peau' with dry-spicy, powdery-mineral, and light-woody accords, where there is subtly a touch of humanity in the background. Since the perfumer is contracted with the Swiss fragrance manufacturer Givaudan, it is obvious that some Givaudan-typical scent materials are used here, foremost 'Ambrofix' (aka 'Ambroxan'), formerly 'Ambroxide', a synthetic substitute introduced in the 1950s for the infinitely expensive and extremely rare 'Gray Amber'. Also included is 'Ambermax', an amber-like molecule with facets of cedarwood and iris, as well as 'Okoumal', another amber fragrance material with woody accents and tobacco nuances.
Flores-Roux now combines the synthetic amber substitute with a hint of musk, as well as the complex spiciness of clary sage (whose ingredient 'Sclareol' is in turn a precursor for 'Ambrofix') and may come a bit closer to the broad spectrum of the natural amber scent, but primarily brings it ashore, out of the sea. With all the Ambroxan use, 'Peau' is not an aquatic, not a 'blue' fragrance, although the sea is there, you sense it, but rather of a light, beige tone.
A pinch of pepper and some dry-spicy coriander seeds stabilize this (skin) tone, which in turn is framed by the warm sound of the resinous amber base - fortunately without the all-too-popular vanilla and tonka sweetness!
After wearing it several times, I can say that 'Peau' is a truly pleasant companion. Not too offensive, but also not a so-called 'skin scent' (which the name 'Peau' might almost suggest). No, 'Peau' actually develops a remarkable projection and scent trail, even with a low dosage.
What I also like about 'Peau' is the interplay between classic, represented by the amber accord (or the likenesses of Hadrian and Antinous), and modernity, which is reflected in the so-called 'Woody-Amber' base, or in us, who wear these 'Woody-Amber'-based fragrances while standing in front of these ancient statues, whose marble, worked many centuries ago, seems to emit imaginary scent trails: trails of dry earth, ancient writings, polished stone, of coast and sea, and the idea of previously balmed, now mummy-like parchment skin.
Such an ancient-modern fragrance cosmos cannot, of course, emerge from a mundane glass bottle; it requires a kind of contemporary amphora, to which the black-tinted container, etched with outlines of scantily clad Romans in the style of an ancient vase, indeed somewhat transforms through its roughened surface.
Sappho, another queer legend of antiquity, has already been honored with a fragrance painting, as has Christopher Marlowe, to touch on something more modern.
And how about Fritz and Katte next?
With Gertrude and Alice?
I’d be in!
Translated · Show original
18 Comments
Now, about the fragrance described here. Thank you for the extremely precise and skillful review. It's a true pleasure to read! 🏆
(But please, no gunpowder note in the Katte-Fritz scent...!)
Aside from this inspiration, it's an incredibly informative review, thank you. I haven't been able to appreciate Arquistes much so far, but you really make this perfume sound appealing. A light beige, warm-resinous, unsweet-spicy country scent, that's something.
However, what I liked best was your brief sentence about Dans tes bras, which really captures that fragrance perfectly.