Scent Stories Vol.1/Ch.04 - Shaman MiN New York 2014

A strange scent. Elusive, indefinable. Shimmering, just like the term "shaman" does not describe anything uniform, but rather attempts to compress individuals from completely different cultural backgrounds and roles into a single word with typical Western arrogance.

It is not productive to simply work through a progression for "Shaman." The changes are undoubtedly noteworthy, but equally important is to engage with the two faces of the fragrance. At times, I felt as if I were dealing with two perfumes, depending on the dosage.

On one hand, there is Dr. Jekyll: violet leaf and smoke. A striking contrast that is quickly softened by rough patchouli and a caramel sweetness; very elegant. After ten minutes, the violet heads towards a throat lozenge direction. A bit of licorice perhaps, in any case a hint of anise. I wouldn’t have identified mandarin without prompting, but something fruity can be recognized if desired. Cardamom is acceptable. Overall, the scent remains restrained, and the spark does not ignite.

During the morning, alongside the violet, a resinous-sour aura manifests. Additionally, there is an almost metallic twist, reminiscent of some variations of lavender or a floral honey. I thought shamans would be more intense in terms of smoke and resin. That is probably - see above - a misconception anyway. New idea: a priest on sabbatical for research purposes. I imagine Georges Lemaître, who is about to give a lecture on his Big Bang theory. From the chasm arises a distant memory of past masses, it’s been a long time. I find this image hilarious (https://youtu.be/RL6ndOAOEeE - at 0:21 min.). I suspect he is indeed standing there in some kind of priestly robe in front of the table with the crazy formulas.

Soon, a hint of fruit surprises me, in a style close to the violet leaf-fruit jelly combination from Lalique's Hommage à l'Homme, even though the latter is clearly more fruity. With Shaman, the question arises whether it is even still fruit (I think of the coy mandarin) or if it has transformed into something like a twist of honey - an approach supported by the further development and by the observation that the camouflaged fruit hardly plays a role on Mr. Hyde days, see below.

By noon, a leathery nuance emerges from the violet leaf, which is significantly more pronounced in projection than on the skin. In the room, it definitely smells like leather, as a return to the office after half an hour of absence shows. The as-if fruit contributes less and less; by now, I would rather sign off on rose. Only with considerable delay, in the afternoon, does the leather show up directly on the skin. Mind you: this is not "classic" leather, but rather an impression likely stemming from the violet corner. Non-musty patchouli may contribute its part, but it will not become an independent performer in this regard.

Hmm. The attempt to closely connect floral-fruity and resinous-smoky elements creates a diffuse feeling of discomfort for me; the two poles may be too different. Perhaps one should have either explored the oppositional nature or one side should have subordinated itself. In this case, the resin acts like brake linings on the rest of the fragrance. Nothing seems to unfold properly. It’s quite possible that others appreciate this connection. Let’s see what the gentleman thinks who gets the sample (diminutive form inappropriate - my thanks for that go to Gerdi!) next.

Aaaaaaaber: Then there are the Mr. Hyde days. With a stronger dosage, gasoline blows out of the opening. A bittersweet-strict rubber note, which is at best a vague hint in the description above, appears more quickly. By the second hour, an unclean note is undeniable. Gerdi described it as fecal, and I understand well what she means. I am reminded of the unclean note in Cuba by Czech & Speake, which has a latent smell of settled waste, like a sewage treatment plant. With Shaman, however, I do not want to go that far, but it is close. If I had to guess, I would say that a sugary amber with geranium stink is in charge here. The violet leaf-leather also shows a completely changed face. Suddenly, there is something tarry and darkly smoky in it. The honey develops a urinous note.

The other fragrance components mentioned above remain perceptible, of course; they simply undergo a more profound interpretation than before.

Again, "Hmm." I feel like I did in school during dictations, where the teacher was occasionally offered two solutions through deliberately ambiguous spellings; in the hope that it would be decided "in dubio pro discipulo." Most of the time, that did not work. And with Shaman, this idea - if it is indeed one - does not quite ignite for me. I find it all somewhat intriguing, but ultimately a bit confusing. The price of 240 euros for 75ml adds to my lack of wish list ambitions.

Phew. That was exhausting.