Fado Jasmim Miguel Matos 2020

Unfortunately, I did not get "Fado Jasmim" in this wonderful black Art Deco bottle (which seems to remind some of Darth Vader) but in a squat glass bottle with a silver cap. Miguel Matos was able to snag a total of 24 pieces from a glass manufacturer in Marinha Grande. Since the 40s, the remnants of a former production had been gathering dust in some corner of the company, before the young perfumer finally filled them more than 70 years later.
When Matos proudly offered them on his website, I foolishly hesitated too long - and in no time they were gone.
No matter, it’s all good. Ultimately, it’s the content that counts; the rest is just embellishment.

Well, had I known how great the content is, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated so long.
Back then, I wasn’t so familiar with Matos’ fragrance language. Today I know it resonates with me. Recently, when I watched a long interview with him conducted by Dan Naughton, alias Mr. Smelly, I could completely relate to his enthusiasm for the great old Chypres that played with floral, fruity, leathery, and animalistic facets - I absolutely share it. I also feel more at home in the fragrance world of the 70s and earlier decades than in the mainstream of the 90s - not to mention later decades.
“Fado Jasmim” speaks such a language: overflowing jasmine, in full, lush, almost overripe bloom, whose indolic nuances are embraced by a lascivious civet note, surrounded by various fruits and resting on a voluminous Chypre base.
Anyone who doesn’t like jasmine should definitely avoid this fragrance; the combination of fruity and animalistic is not entirely easy, but it touches the core of the Matos DNA: a floral/fruity/animalistic orientation, preferably executed in Chypre colors.

But for those who like jasmine - and I do! - they should not miss out on this fragrance: such an intoxicating jasmine is rarely offered. Yet this intoxication carries a certain heaviness. It is not euphoric and jubilant, but rather enveloped in a melancholic aura.
Here comes the Fado into play, musically invoking the famous Saudade, that specifically Portuguese form of gentle, all-pervading world-weariness. “Fado Jasmim” is also full of Saudade: the overripe flowers and fruits announcing transience, the dark, bitter Chypre base - no cheer, nowhere. But feeling, a lot of feeling.

Yes, I find “Fado Jasmim” to be a very emotional fragrance. I sense that Miguel Matos has poured a lot of heart and soul into it. He didn’t just throw it together like he recently did with four new fragrances to bring some color and joy to the dreary Lisbon lockdown routine. No, there is truly a lot of passion in this one, a passion that also fills the warm timbre of Amália Rodrigues, to whom Matos dedicated “Fado Jasmim.”
The Afro-Brazilian and Arabic influences on Fado (represented by the fruit bouquet), as well as the preferred minor tonality (Chypre) and the velvety voice of Rodrigues (jasmine), all of this Matos has tried to echo in his fragrance, and I think he has succeeded.
That “Fado Jasmim” still polarizes is - as mentioned - not surprising. Those who struggle with indolic flowers, who rush to the window at the hint of animalic notes, who shy away from the complex damp-bitter Chypre tone, will surely find this fragrance not for them.
But for those who enjoy vintage fragrances, especially vintage Chypres, particularly those with substantial body - I think of “Femme” by Rochas or “Azurée” - might find some pleasure in “Fado Jasmim.”
However, one should bring a certain tolerance for a faint acetone-like note. It is likely due to the encounter of strong indoles and the sweetness of juicy fruits, and conveys a bit of the olfactory impression of fermenting fruit.
It may not sound particularly enticing, but I find this note quite charming.

Regarding gender attribution: Miguel Matos no longer cares since he discovered that a friend who always smelled wonderful wore “The One” by Dolce & Gabbana, specifically the version for women. Suddenly, he reports, it became clear to him that he would find exactly what the market had withheld from him at the beginning of the new millennium (niche fragrances were still hard to access in Portugal back then, according to Matos). His joy in the art of perfume, which was already waning, received a new boost, and fragrances he had previously reserved for women suddenly became within reach: “Poison,” “Cabochard” - a new world opened up!

In this context, “Fado Jasmim” can be seen: free from all gender attribution. That a male wearer of this fragrance does not find unanimous approval everywhere - so be it. But “Fado Jasmim” is not something you wear casually, thoughtlessly in everyday life. No, this fragrance must be desired, one must stand by it. This applies to all Matos fragrances. For lovers of great, past fragrance art, they are a true treasure trove, but certainly not mass-appealing - thankfully! “Fado Jasmim” is among his more moderate fragrances; Matos has truly more experimental ones in his portfolio. But it is not only more moderate, but in my opinion also more artfully blended and carefully balanced than some olfactory ride across Lake Constance that Matos thankfully indulges in - that makes his works both surprising and exciting. The brilliance and refinement of the fragrances by Antonio Gardoni, his great ally in the revival of lost innovative fragrance art in the style of the 70s and earlier, he does not quite reach.

The fact that the ingredients are 'Non IFRA compliant' should indeed be taken seriously. The reasoning: “This isn't a perfume. It’s a piece of olfactory art. It uses safe ingredients only, but can cause reaction in allergy-prone skin. Test on a small patch of skin.”

A piece of olfactory art?
Yes, I think so.