Pavlova Cantilène 1976 Eau de Toilette

The world of classical ballet certainly smells less good than the fragrances named after it.
And yet its magic is still undiminished. Who does not like to be transported for a few hours by music and grace (which is the success of hard work, discipline, sweat and blood) into another world, that of dreams.
The writer Vicki Baum knew this, too. In her novels "People in a Hotel" and "The Golden Shoes" she gives the leading role to a prima ballerina With her, words replace music; but no less impressive and sonorous than the dance on stage.
Today the wizard of ballet is still called John Neumeier, but the great time of the "classical Russian ballet" and its internationally known stars is unfortunately over.
I myself in 1992 saw the fairy-tale production that Rudolf Nureyev brought to the stage of the Staatsoper Unter den Linden: it was a performance like being in a bonbonnière.
At the premiere, Nureyev danced the evil fairy himself (pure goose bumps!); later he lay - elegantly draped - on a divan and let this colorful fairy world dance past him.
He was already very ill and fragile; a little bit of melancholy hovered over the final applause, despite all the magic.
How many years had passed since he did not return to the Soviet Union after a tour in 1961 and suddenly found himself in the public eye not only as a dancer.
Again the Mariinsky/Kirov Theatre lost a dancer of world stature.

After 1907 the impressario Sergei Djagilew/Diaghilew founded the ballet ensemble "Ballets des Russes"; suddenly after its first performance in 1908 the heart of the "Russian Ballet" beat in Paris and no longer in St. Petersburg.
Diaghilev's lover, the dancer Vaslav Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova quickly became its focal point.
Pavlova's interpretation and solo performance as the "Dying Swan" in 1907 made her as famous as the "Banana Dance" later made Josephine Baker.

If one of the old ladies from our apartment complex hadn't died and if I hadn't met her sister at our garbage containers and helped her, I wouldn't even know that the eau de toilette "Pavlova" existed.

Along with other fragrances, it was in a box that was destined for the trash and ended up with me.
"What do you want with that old stuff?" the old lady asked me, almost embarrassed. "It's just trash!"
The Baccarat and Lalique crystal flacons and the neck of the swan on clasp of "Pavlova" had really not survived the fall of the box in the yard, but the other treasures will now be discovered by me so little by little. Even if here and there a piece of the Flacon is missing.

According to my nose still unchanged (so well kept), I meet an opulent floral fragrance that develops quite wonderfully as a typical member of the Chypre family on my skin.
With its appearance in 1977, this "Pavlova" was a child of its time; what I call a "dress scent". Actually, it's an "afternoon dress scent" that sure likes a bit of finery.
The fruity opening of blackcurrant leaves, ripe raspberries, fresh grapefruit notes that are a bit bitter as always, mandarin oranges and bergamot has an immediate uplifting effect.
Like a wide colorful skirt dancing around the legs of its wearer, the impressive floral bouquet that now follows.
Radiant white and intensely fragrant jasmine and tuberose belong of course in this bouquet. But also iris and narcissus and the majestic rose subordinate themselves to this Chypre fragrance; the climax reaches the floral heart by a warm, slightly vanilla-like orchid note.
And of course, the classic base can't be missed: they all come and each fragrance note has its place in this scent choreography in a well thought-out way.
Vetiver, green-brown and earthy, meets spicy oakmoss; these two like each other and therefore harmonize as well as musk and vanilla.
With their warm softness, they play around the small spikes of spice that sandalwood and cedar spread.
Benzoeharz and amber set concluding smoky-resinous highlights.
Thus, "Pavlova" evolves from fresh-fruity light rice dance, to billowy floral waltz steps to a great whirl of fragrant pirouettes!

Beautiful, if a tiny bit old-fashioned, is this fragrant ballet performance: pompous, powdery plush, yet wonderfully alive.
And of a durability I wouldn't want to sit out in the audience (not even in the most comfortable chair), "Pavlova" offers the full works on a big stage.

Much of this charming fragrance ballerina is no longer present in the flacon; as it looks, the fragrance curtain will rise here only a few times.
But I would not have liked to do without this encounter.
Amazing how everything sometimes falls into place: at the right moment at the garbage containers, I again let my curiosity shoot the reins and thereby discovered surprisingly fragrant new territory!
I would even like to claim that Mrs. Z., which I knew from the church parish, would not be angry at all about this development:
Could better things happen to her treasures, which stood forgotten in the very back of the linen cupboard?
Not to me, anyway, and I am happy about this "inheritance"!