ElAttarine
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ElAttarine
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Mist - without a hint of what’s to come…
… there is nothing to hear except the dipping of the paddles into the water and the falling droplets. When it is as foggy as it is today, even the wind holds its breath, and the water is completely still. All senses are heightened, but there is nothing to see except your figure in the fog before me, rowing us both in the small wooden boat through our bay. With such reduced stimuli, my sense of smell becomes particularly alert, and I smell the green, spicy herbs that grow on the summer meadows above us, along with the fluffy-soft water mint. Somewhere in the farmers' gardens, someone must also have blooming carnations and lavender. And the salty, humid air in my nose, how the fog mixes with the sea moisture, and from the seaweed and brown algae that lie everywhere along the coastline. Somewhere, a fire from last night still glows and mixes delicate traces of smoke into the humidity. I imagine how the water beneath us becomes deeper as the bay opens up and we row out into the sound. Here, the sea seems vast and immense to me, and I think of gigantic sea creatures that must be somewhere beneath us.
I have no fear, not even out here in the thick fog, because I trust you completely. My father. A trust like a beautiful deep sweetness that carries and surrounds me.
-----
My father was born in 1938 - just like "Brumes" by Le Galion. A very special fragrance then and still today: After a brief aldehyde opening, fresh, green, minty-ethereal herbs come first. I am delighted that this phase has not suffered in my bottle. Neil Chapman writes on his blog "The Black Narcissus" that in his bottle, time has apparently "taken its toll. The intensely green, herbaceous opening of the fragrance, which supposedly contains thyme, marjoram, and a whole kitchen cabinet of other green things, has evaporated […]. Nevertheless, I would have liked to have smelled it as it was originally intended, how these fresh green notes developed together with the maritime, floral notes." These fresh, green, minty-ethereal notes are still very intense for me; the fragrance is still alive! And it has so much to tell…
Soon it becomes spicier; I perceive clove and nutmeg, later also seaweed and algae, and finally salty, humid, and slightly smoky real amber. I have never smelled such amber before. It must have been a sensation back then. In another layer, delicate floral notes settle on top; for sure, broom is present, along with the slightly powdery floral mixture common in vintage fragrances, from which I cannot pick out a single bloom. Somewhere, herbaceous lavender also wafts by, and the herbal green becomes tarragon-like and grassy. From all these layers, I can perceive one or the other more strongly at times, so it lasts for several hours until only the delicate, smoky-spicy amber remains. In the end (after 9-10 hours), it gifts me a beautiful deep sweetness that only exists in very special fragrances.
-----
"Brumes" was the world's first attempt at a sea or, as Chapman writes, at least a "panoramic" fragrance: It was meant to convey the scent and atmosphere of the French coastal area and the beaches. It is a calm, melancholic, and contemplative fragrance, multi-layered, delicate, dreamy, and yet spicy; at the same time, it expresses deep trust in the fog for me.
With hints of clove and nutmeg, Brumes could be read as a brother to "Old Spice," which also appeared in 1938 but is quite different. Perhaps this also serves as a counterpoint to Caron's "En Avion" (1929) and Guerlain's "Vol de Nuit" (1933). I find this historically fascinating: in 1938, a fragrance that is about being on a ship in the fog instead of flying… unclear where from and where to…
------
And so the circle closes for me on the theme of trust and the future - today on New Year's Eve. Uncertain times lie ahead, as they have not for a long time. Personally as well: My father has successfully undergone several major surgeries and treatments in the past year, and we want to celebrate his birthday in January. A reason for gratitude.
Weightless
without a hint of what’s to come […]
I want to live you
my life
want to feel you
even if you sometimes sting
and blood runs over the soul
[…]
But there can be love
this life
Scattering hope
like stardust
into the darkness of hell
[…]
A hope holds
before the horizon
of dissolving dreams
They guide the step
into the new year
with a tentative attitude
and floating caution
[…] (Claus Eurich)
In the fog, it lives, it just waits to be able to awaken. And we can remind each other of that.
I wish you all a Happy New Year and all the best for 2025!
-----
Description on Neil Chapman's blog (translation by me):
https://theblacknarcissus.com/
2018/05/08/brumes-by-le-galion-1939/
With heartfelt thanks to Can777 for this deal! I gave him your kiss when I released him. He has a deep, old soul.
I have no fear, not even out here in the thick fog, because I trust you completely. My father. A trust like a beautiful deep sweetness that carries and surrounds me.
-----
My father was born in 1938 - just like "Brumes" by Le Galion. A very special fragrance then and still today: After a brief aldehyde opening, fresh, green, minty-ethereal herbs come first. I am delighted that this phase has not suffered in my bottle. Neil Chapman writes on his blog "The Black Narcissus" that in his bottle, time has apparently "taken its toll. The intensely green, herbaceous opening of the fragrance, which supposedly contains thyme, marjoram, and a whole kitchen cabinet of other green things, has evaporated […]. Nevertheless, I would have liked to have smelled it as it was originally intended, how these fresh green notes developed together with the maritime, floral notes." These fresh, green, minty-ethereal notes are still very intense for me; the fragrance is still alive! And it has so much to tell…
Soon it becomes spicier; I perceive clove and nutmeg, later also seaweed and algae, and finally salty, humid, and slightly smoky real amber. I have never smelled such amber before. It must have been a sensation back then. In another layer, delicate floral notes settle on top; for sure, broom is present, along with the slightly powdery floral mixture common in vintage fragrances, from which I cannot pick out a single bloom. Somewhere, herbaceous lavender also wafts by, and the herbal green becomes tarragon-like and grassy. From all these layers, I can perceive one or the other more strongly at times, so it lasts for several hours until only the delicate, smoky-spicy amber remains. In the end (after 9-10 hours), it gifts me a beautiful deep sweetness that only exists in very special fragrances.
-----
"Brumes" was the world's first attempt at a sea or, as Chapman writes, at least a "panoramic" fragrance: It was meant to convey the scent and atmosphere of the French coastal area and the beaches. It is a calm, melancholic, and contemplative fragrance, multi-layered, delicate, dreamy, and yet spicy; at the same time, it expresses deep trust in the fog for me.
With hints of clove and nutmeg, Brumes could be read as a brother to "Old Spice," which also appeared in 1938 but is quite different. Perhaps this also serves as a counterpoint to Caron's "En Avion" (1929) and Guerlain's "Vol de Nuit" (1933). I find this historically fascinating: in 1938, a fragrance that is about being on a ship in the fog instead of flying… unclear where from and where to…
------
And so the circle closes for me on the theme of trust and the future - today on New Year's Eve. Uncertain times lie ahead, as they have not for a long time. Personally as well: My father has successfully undergone several major surgeries and treatments in the past year, and we want to celebrate his birthday in January. A reason for gratitude.
Weightless
without a hint of what’s to come […]
I want to live you
my life
want to feel you
even if you sometimes sting
and blood runs over the soul
[…]
But there can be love
this life
Scattering hope
like stardust
into the darkness of hell
[…]
A hope holds
before the horizon
of dissolving dreams
They guide the step
into the new year
with a tentative attitude
and floating caution
[…] (Claus Eurich)
In the fog, it lives, it just waits to be able to awaken. And we can remind each other of that.
I wish you all a Happy New Year and all the best for 2025!
-----
Description on Neil Chapman's blog (translation by me):
https://theblacknarcissus.com/
2018/05/08/brumes-by-le-galion-1939/
With heartfelt thanks to Can777 for this deal! I gave him your kiss when I released him. He has a deep, old soul.
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