Iskander Parfum d'Empire 2006

The perfumery work of Marc-Antoine Corticchiato is pleasantly well-structured. He is (on his own) responsible for the two brands "Parfum d'Empire" and "La Parfumerie Moderne," both essentially his own brands. Within these brands, no other perfumer has ever been involved, and outside of the brands, the Corsican-Moroccan master has only created two or three fragrances.

Friends of minimalist tidiness and cheerful Apollonian structures will find their hearts further opened when they see that both brands, Parfum d'Empire and La Parfumerie Moderne, impress with simple uniform bottles and calm label designs. And that all the names of the perfumes from both brands are pleasantly straightforward. They consist of one to three well-placed, classic words like 'Années Folles,' 'Fougère Bengale,' or 'Le Cri' and contain no confusing letter-number combinations or word chain monstrosities like 'Sexy Messy Just Rolled out of the Bed.'

I own two fragrances from this (by the way, quite attractive, as far as I am qualified to judge) perfumer, namely 'Belles Rives' (from LPM) and the award-winning 'Azemour les Orangers' (from PdE). Others, like 'Musc Tonkin,' I find highly intriguing, and I don't even know all of the author's works, which speaks to the fact that I appreciate his characteristic style.

'Iskander' is titled on the manufacturer's website as "citrus chypre on the border between West and East," which should also explain the name of the fragrance. For the scent is probably not named after the Russian medium-range missile Iskander, which is aimed at Western Europe from the Kaliningrad region, but rather classically after the hero of antiquity, who is none other than a border crosser and (warlike) unifier of East and West, namely Iskander, who is none other than Alexander (the Great of Macedonia), whose name in Arabic and other Eastern languages is: Alexandria in Egypt is al-Iskandariyya, and Alexander/Iskander was a common hero of both Muslim and Christian knights during the Crusades.

What is specifically East-West about this fragrance may be explained by others, but I like it very much. One can understand it as complex yet completely balanced, a truly classic perfume developed from a traditionally citrusy cologne, but in a bitter-heavy direction.

Iskander begins quite forcefully, almost massive and opulent. It is elegant and balanced, but also a bit dull and abyssal, cool, yet paradoxically also sultry, and while the head says that the bitter-herb accords are of a citrus nature, the heart seems to sense something like heavy floral bouquets.

As it develops, Iskander becomes greener and herbier and at the same time cheerier (it clears up), without changing the lush, moist overall impression, and without the dominating bitter citrus disappearing. I agree with previous commentators like Mörderbiene and NikEy that at this stage a distinct (pleasant) salty note can also be felt, which cannot be easily explained from the fragrance pyramid.

Even in the drydown of the fragrance, the indestructible (now dark-crystalline) citrus remains present, now surrounded by all sorts of whimsical scent associations (for me, vanilla and sweet tobacco varieties). The base contains Tonkin musk, apparently a preferred ingredient of Corticchiato, after which a fragrance of his is also named.

For me, there is a striking resemblance between this very beautiful fragrance being reviewed and another (completely beautiful to me) work of Corticchiato, namely Azemour les Orangers. Both share the bitter citrus with unmistakably salty and herbal undertones, which is underpinned by an unorthodox, artistically quite daring, but completely casually fitting base; in Iskander, no flowers are indicated, but one feels as if there are some; in Azemour, plenty of floral notes are declared, but they are hardly felt.

Iskander comes to me a bit like the - still connected with earth and unrefined stone - rough diamond from which the author polished the perfectly shiny and radiant brilliant Azemour les Orangers five years later, or like a variation in minor for oboe or double bass, when the brighter Azemour is a piano or horn concerto in radiant H major on the same theme.

Both the perfume reviewed here almost seven years ago and the perfumer behind it are highly recommended for further exploration!