Recently, I tried to explain to an acquaintance that I choose my daily fragrance based on the colors of my clothing that I decide on in the morning. I received confused looks.
Come?
When I then explained to her that, for example, I would only wear a green fragrance with a red T-shirt under duress, an oriental fragrance with a blue one, or a citrus scent with a violet T-shirt, she began to ponder.
It's true. When the color of the fragrance corresponds with that of my clothes, I simply feel more comfortable. However, there's a catch with fragrance colors. Not everyone associates the same color with the same scent.
Antonio Gardoni's latest creation is clearly green for me. It is obviously so for him as well, because now and then he dyes the caps of his bottles: with Douleur, it was a vibrant pink that matched this bold fragrance wonderfully, and here it is a matte, dark, coniferous green. Exactly the green of the pointed columnar cypress trees that reach skyward throughout Italy.
However, the cypress is a base note; it is not the protagonist. The main characters are others: foremost among them is the close relative 'Juniperus Oxycedrus', also known as prickly juniper, or its dark, viscous, camphor-like smoky oil, which is obtained from the distillation of bark and branches, sometimes referred to as juniper tar or Cade oil. Antonio Gardoni loves it.
He already prominently featured it in Tyrannosaurus Rex by Zoologist, in LITA for his own label as well, and now again. However, each time in different settings, so one can truly speak of three completely different fragrances. Nevertheless, the juniper tar impresses its characteristic stamp on them.
But Antonio Gardoni not only loves 'Juniperus Oxycedrus', he also loves Chypre notes, often classically interwoven with a hint of civet. And benzoin, which, with its sweet-balsamic nuances, provides a wonderful counterpoint to all things bitter and smoky.
Et voilà, the basic structure of his new fragrance is outlined: a solid top-down Chypre framework over bitter-skinned bergamot, a subtle floral bouquet of ylang-ylang, jasmine, and rose, leading to an earthy-mossy base of patchouli, oakmoss, and labdanum. This typical Chypre sound in a vintage look would already be fragrance enough, but it is far from a work of the alchemist from Brescia. Instead, he lets his wonderfully soft-furred civet cat, whom we already know, purr around the notes, dripping dark, smoky juniper tar from a pipette into the well-known Chypre idyll and enhancing the green nuances of the juniper and cypress with a hint of vetiver. Its scent spectrum ranges from grassy to earthy, sometimes slightly smoky accented, and is absolutely essential for a perfume with the attribute green. Interestingly, the no less obligatory galbanum does not come into play here.
What does come into play, however, is the balsamic warmth and the hint of vanilla from the benzoin (both Siam and the spicier Sumatra benzoin), which the perfumer apparently prefers over the common amber mixtures that also contain benzoin, which are used everywhere and serve the same function: to round out the fragrance, give it sensuality, and fix it on the skin. Amber mixtures, however, are usually more dominant, excellently suited to convey oriental opulence olfactorily, while benzoin acts more subtly and elegantly when isolated.
That there are also other fragrance components involved, such as honey, wax, fermented tea, fig, or my beloved immortelle - all understandable and plausible. I cannot isolate them, as they do not step forward solistically. Joining the background chorus, they surely contribute their share to this green-spicy, subtly animalic Chypre.
This keyword attribution also applies to a fragrance that 'Come' reminded me of immediately after the first spray: Robert Piguet's 'Futur'. Not that the two works smell terribly similar, no, they do not. It is more their attitude, their presence. 'Green' was excitingly reinterpreted by 'Futur' nearly 60 years ago with subtly smoldering animalism, brighter, powdery, aldehydic than Antonio Gardoni's 'Come' six decades later. Yet while the fragrance color of the oldie may be a brighter green, it still appears similarly matte, almost veiled, yet velvety soft, just like the coniferous dark green of the late successor, which is overall of a stronger stature.
One more word about the animalism: no one needs to fear the infamous Kouros effect. Antonio Gardoni once again manages to skillfully dim (or mask) the precarious facets of civet, known as skatole, while simultaneously letting the sensual-erotic aspects shine through.
It may be that some will still lament too much animal, but for me, Gardoni once again hits that miraculous measure of fragrant lust that makes me want to throw myself around one of his works once more. Translating eroticism into fragrance, Antonio Gardoni is unmatched. He is a master, an irresistible seducer - at least for me. As I said, it may be that some find this down below still too coarse, too little sublime. But the balanced relationship between coarseness and sublimation triggers me immensely.
Since we haven't smelled anything from the fragrance magician from Northern Italy for a long time, I almost feared he had somewhat exhausted the cosmos of his fragrance preferences and was now dedicating himself more to his other focal points of design and architecture. But far from it: with 'Come', he makes a powerful return.
And at least for me (but I am also a Gardoni disciple), it is a true delight to be able to offer something real, something true to the nose after all the mediocre woody-amber and other synthetic stuff.
It feels as if after all the Trumpian bluster, tastelessness, and deception, we finally hear a voice of reason again - comparable to an olfactory sigh of relief that has long been awaited, far too long. Fortunately, colleagues like Canali, Corticchiato, Thierry, Ellena, Giacobetti, Sheldrake, and a few others provide such moments of relief just as reliably. But a new work from Brescia is something special. Especially since Antonio Gardoni takes his time, an unreasonably long time by today's standards.
However, considering that the great Edmond Roudnitska only created about 20 fragrances throughout his entire career, one becomes humble.
So may he take the necessary time in the future, even if it takes years.
As long as he does not fall silent.
A note on the rumored naming:
The Italian phrase 'Come Quando Fuori Piove' (like when it rains outside) refers to "Poker all'italiana," an Italian variant of poker, where the initial letters stand for the respective suits. Come for Cuori (hearts), the most valuable suit in the ranking.
Labdanum
Cade juniper
Wax
Bourbon vanilla
Civet
Juniper wood
Bergamot
Black tea
Fig blossom
Fig leaf
Frankincense
Metal
Moss
Musk
Oud
Patchouli
Siam benzoin
Smoke
Tonka bean
Everlasting flower
Honey
Jasmine
Ylang-ylang
Holscentbar
AndreiLaowai
JosephCirino
PET
Profumo
Cenno
peterbourbon
Timmeteq
Dan93
DuftFlasher
