L'Art de la Guerre Jovoy 2014

If someone wants to wear a scent of a classic gentleman for large audiences, this perfume can be a great success.
Of course it is not something too new, transgressive or of course original and outstanding that people remember.
But it will discreetly complete the style of a mature and masculine man flawlessly.

I find it really difficult to identify or highlight notes as it is really compact and refined.
Leather, patchouli and lavender for sure, although with nuances that I could not identify. Elegance and retro cut for a leader, seductive businessman and classic charismatic.

As for silage and lasting I have to say that they seem to me to be very improvable and at a level of commercial designer perfumery. If someone wants to be noticed, they have to over-apply and get people to get close.

L'Arte de la Guerre is a modern, spicy interpretation of a classic fougere, and it does its thing so confidently that it never strikes you as a pastiche, or as old-fashioned. The opening notes are of a green, astringent fruit - the snapped-stalk bitterness of rhubarb coupled with unripe Granny Smith apples - which together provides a twist to the classic fougere opening. It's important to note that the fruit notes here are not literal at all. They are not like, for example, Creed's Spice and Wood with its crisp green apple top note, or Aedes de Venustas' Eau de Parfum, which uses a very realistic rhubarb note. Instead, L'Arte de la Guerre uses the textural qualities of rhubarb and green apples, i.e., their tart, green astringency and 'stalkiness', to suggest a sharp, watery freshness as a stand-in for the usual citrus-like opening notes to a fougere. It is unusual and striking.

The freshness does not last long, though, because what this fragrance is all about is an exercise in dark, shady materials - smoky, mineralic oakmoss, dusty lavender, earthy patchouli, tobacco, and leather. It reads as very complex to my nose and is almost impossible to separate out into its constituent layers. I definitely pick up on a crunchy green-grey violet note floating up through the density of the darker materials, like an air pocket. But at its heart lies a dusty, dry, and intensely spicy tobacco accord, buffeted on either side by camphorous lavender and dark patchouli. More moss and leathery amber form the sturdy base. There is some relationship to Caron's great fougere, The Third Man, but L'Arte de la Guerre is perhaps the more evolved of the two.

Although I would characterize the overall feel of this as darkly mossy/bitter, the maple syrup aspects of immortelle and a touch of amber have been used cleverly here to gives little hints of sweetness, as if to take the sting out of its tail. The texture of this perfume is slightly dry and powdery, but also rich and deep.

The opening is simply full of spicy autumn vegetables and fruits and they are all combative and full of character. While this might sound odd I think it is amazing. As you might guess from the metrics, this is a scent that is a little bit polarising, but it is undeservedly underrated on this site; L'Art de la guerre is a modern yet timeless, niche, vegetal fougère that is unparalleled in my book.

In the opening and for 30 minutes you will, then, perhaps be a little bit surprised by everything going on. Anyone with a bit of cooking experience will recognise the combination of rhubarb, green apple and celery stalks as a very contrasting yet successful balancing act of aromatics, the surprise to me is how well it works together when you cannot intervene with sweetness and acidity that you can on the tongue. Supported by leafy herbals (violet and patchouli) and spicy nutmeg, the aromatic vegetal impression remain a signature throughout the full 8-12 hours this scent will last you, but eventually lavender, oakmoss and sandalwood comes through and suddenly there are nods of recognition towards the classical fougères. You can feel the debt it owes to Pour Un Homme de Caron (1934) and Trumper's Wild Fern (1877) but yet it is idiosyncratic and its entirely own thing – none of the talcum notes of Caron nor the strong coumarin of Wild Fern. Having mentioned Caron: You could also say that some of the aromatics here are also found in Caron's Yatagan, but L'Art de la Guerre is rather more refined in style than the rugged releases of the late 70s/early 80s that Yatagan belongs to. Some have said elsewhere that it is a little sweet, but I disagree. It has little to do with the style of sweet-ish immortelle scents such as Histoires de parfums' 1740, although they do share some notes.

Once the base is properly established, the ever so odd combinations are lifted into a state of harmony and peace. The rounded odours you will find in especially fruits are not by destiny associated with sweetness although in the memory of many it will; damascenones, esters, ketones are prone to fool the brain into believing that sweetness will eventually reach your tongues receptors, a bit like when you smell and taste a bone dry yet fruity white wine. So, as mentioned, I find L'Art de la Guerre to be very little "sweet" myself, although other people might have different experiences. At any rate, it all balances out, and I think some of the magic is that the drydown feels both so classically masculine and yet so idiosyncratic at the same time. Anyone with ever so slightly developed olfactory receptors will notice that this is not your average male scent, whereas those who prefer mainstream scents will fully accept it (at least if my varied surroundings are anything to go by). Although Jovoy presents it as unisex, it is a bit difficult for me to imagine women appreciating the long lasting oakmossy drydown phase.

A note on performance, since the only other review at the time of writing is of the opinion that LADLG is weak: On me, this is a high performer that lasts through the day. I tend to use 2-3 very brief sprays of this in the very early morning, and yet I have received compliments well into the afternoon from coworkers, and from people more intimate to me even late in the evening. It does not project very far, fortunately, so I would say it is office safe.

The name of the fragrance and the explicit mention of immortelle and cistus as 'Corsican' - that screams Napoleon. It is said that he claimed one could blindfold him and plug his ears, and he would recognize his homeland Corsica solely by its scent. Allegedly, cistus and immortelle play a decisive role in this apparently characteristic smell (which I unfortunately do not know personally).

And surely no one would disagree that a book titled 'The Art of War' would suit him just as well as its actual author, the Chinese general Sun Tsu. For those who demanded 'Fortune' from their generals, an exaltation of the art of war was certainly not far off.

Whether one likes such a designation for a fragrance... Let us consider the creation of a perfume as art and retreat to the notion that art - like satire - can do anything, yes must do anything, just certainly not at all times and in all places (by the way, I wrote this text long before the Böhmermann discussion). This does not change the fact that, in my opinion, the name is simply ridiculously stupid, which the 'art' must then be able to endure in return. Especially since, as Zauber600 aptly noted, the war here seems to be conducted with rhubarb stalks.

Now we finally arrive at the topic: rhubarb, herbaceous-sour-astringent with its various acids. I hardly notice any hint of apple in this racket. Granny Smith is fine by me - also a strongly acidic plant.

I have been at odds with rhubarb since childhood. When we roamed around in packs during my rural childhood, we would sometimes chew on rhubarb stalks in the garden across the street for fun (in retrospect: what fun?). Yuck. I always found rhubarb compote repulsive. Oh dear: L'Art de la Guerre will hardly win any open nostrils from me.

The fuzzy-dull impression of rhubarb lingers at the forefront for hours. Underneath, a robust-bitter herb note gradually builds up. Although the violet leaf can be sensed after about an hour, it struggles mightily to assert itself against the other stuff. Unfortunately, as the morning progresses, it increasingly evokes thoughts of beautiful leather. Probably, the mention of both notes is to be understood as mirror-image-related. Around noon, the mild violet-leather breaks free a bit, but overall, the prickly-green-herbaceous aspect prevails in the first half. The fact that Italian immortelle is occasionally referred to as curry herb is not a topic in this case so far.

From noon onwards, the fragrance takes on a woody turn that fits well with the musky announcement. Airy lavender lightens things up just a tad. And finally, after a solid six hours, the immortelle develops its curry note.

All afternoon, the prickly rhubarb continues to annoy me immensely. To my dismay, it has also lost the last remnants of fruitiness and now just pokes around. This is perhaps meant to create a clean impression together with the lavender. I would have expected sandalwood and cistus to soothe things down, but no such luck. The fragrance remains completely joyless in my perception from beginning to end. The dusty patchouli note in the drydown, which remains present into the evening, adds to this.

The great plus of the concoction - the quite elegant leather note - simply has it much too hard to compete against the others. Initially, it is overwhelmed by the rhubarb-herb and later additionally pressured by patchouli.

What are you then? Fresh-green? Herbal? Leathery? I find the composition lacking the right balance; L'Art de la Guerre wavers between half-hearted and intrusive. Since the former primarily applies to the leather (which I like) and the latter mainly to the rhubarb (which I do not like), the fragrance does not appeal to me in the overall picture. Nevertheless, it is striking and undoubtedly very original.

How should I fairly evaluate a bold fragrance that, however, lacks any fortune in my regard? 50 or 60? Because of the silly name, it will be 50.

I thank Ergoproxy for the sample.

..yes, that is L'Art de la Guerre indeed and a really good one at that. I find the title completely inappropriate for a perfume, like a grenade as a bottle. Speaking of the bottle, I wasn't familiar with the brand until now, even though it is regularly commented on here. Only the beautifully curved bottles caught my eye...I quite like them! Yes, Mr. Zauber is right, the top note immediately makes one think of Flashback, but I like this one almost a little bit better. It’s so green...delightfully fresh, zesty, slightly tart, the mix of apple, rhubarb, a bit of bergamot, and a load of oak moss. This bitter note is "missing" in Flashback; LADLG makes this note more tangible and slightly more masculine. This tart-fresh-slightly bitter and herbaceous blend has turned out wonderfully and is very extraordinary. I am always happy when a scent can still surprise me and let me smell something new. Unfortunately, the extremely green freshness fades after about 15 minutes, and a floral note slowly creeps in, but it only lays a fine veil over it...I can't decipher the origin for myself...maybe I should spend more time in the garden or flower bed. However, the scents of the forest appeal to me more.
The whole fragrance is increasingly tipping towards the masculine, which is by no means bad, but the classic impression doesn't score points with me...as soon as it heads towards a shaving water note, the scent is already mentally checked off and ALZD closed again;-)! The mix of leather, lavender, oak moss, and patchouli comes across as too old-school for me, having smelled it too often and found it just as often unpleasant. Unfortunately, I can't detect any further development of the scent; the later heart note and base note stick very well...there's that phenomenon again, when you dislike something, it clings to you like the plague. It lasted a good 5 hours on me...which is often the case when it comes to such a classic mix.
Conclusion: The top note had already won...but carelessly squandered the victory; lovers of classic scents, for whom the top note is not too unclassical, will get their money's worth here. A very fair price of €125/100ml Eau de Parfum, smells valuable, but for me not extraordinary enough.