37
Top Review
I may be a wrong-way driver..
Oh yes, I can certainly understand why this fragrance faces so much rejection: the opening is truly adventurous!
Anyone who has ever wanted to know why Frédéric Malle named his tuberose fragrance “Carnal Flower” should take a sniff of “Tambour Sacré”: the fleshy facets of this narcotic bloom could not be more pronounced. They also come to the fore in Malle's scent, but are kept in check by the entire fragrance spectrum of the tuberose - the intense floral white flower note, the carrion-like indoles, and green nuances. In “Tambour Sacré,” however, combined with an unsweetened coffee note, they break forth unrestrained, as if the carefully balanced equilibrium in the tuberose cosmos has suddenly shifted. Apparently, the dark-sour smelling coffee eliminates large parts of the floral kaleidoscope here, leaving the tuberose strangely naked, almost corporeal, indeed “carnal.” Even the squeaky pink chewing gum hints stand out quite unpleasantly without the robe that normally envelops them, exuding a penetrating hairspray aroma - all of this must be endured!
I admit, this is difficult, because this opening, this clash of the two main players that are supposed to shape the entire fragrance journey of “Tambour Sacré,” truly presents a challenge.
It doesn’t smell nice, at least not in the sense of ‘harmonious,’ ‘pleasant,’ or ‘gentle.’ No, this collision of harsh coffee and diva-like tuberose resembles more an olfactory slaughter, casting both contenders in an unflattering light. While they may smell wonderful on their own, here they do not smell good, neither the coffee nor the flower.
Fortunately, however, more players enter the stage and put an end to the confrontational antics. Cardamom and cinnamon soothingly season the coffee, bitter-skin fruits and the sweet scent of acacia pull the hysterically behaving tuberose from the battlefield.
The full, warm base, shaped by resins, woods, and balsams, does the rest, and the roosters calm down increasingly. After about an hour, a complex, dark-toned, herb-spicy, and only slightly sweet oriental aroma has developed, which for a change manages without the obligatory vanilla and trendy oud.
Now “Tambour Sacré” smells wonderful! And as if to compensate me for all the previous inconveniences, the fragrance, thanks to its Extrait de Parfum concentration, lasts an eternity.
Normally, I am not a fan of endlessly long-lasting fragrances, but in this case, I really have to make an exception, because this uniquely beautiful oriental, with the now reconciled tuberose-coffee duo in its heart, I can enjoy hour after hour.
The team around Andrea Bissoli Rubini, perfumer Cristiano Canali, and product designer Francesca Gotti has created another amazing fragrance after “Fundamental,” which, however, requires even more effort to appreciate than its predecessor. “Fundamental” was already a rather complex character with its strong, fruity-waxy grape accord, but in terms of difficulty, “Tambour Sacré” goes several steps further.
For me, this is art, truly great, admittedly modern fragrance art. However, it is such that I cannot recommend it by any means. I could just about recommend “Fundamental,” provided the recipient has an open nose for an unusual fragrance adventure. With “Tambour Sacré,” however, I know that I would encounter complete incomprehension - at least temporarily, the fragrance is an olfactory hell ride that I would not wish upon anyone.
And yet, I may be a wrong-way driver and believe that everyone else is going the wrong way: I like everything about “Tambour Sacré,” even the quirky opening.
In the meantime, I have found that the more often I wear the fragrance, the more I look forward to this wild start: to the unleashed tuberose that screeches into the freshly brewed, unspiced, and unsweetened coffee - magnificent!!!
Anyone who has ever wanted to know why Frédéric Malle named his tuberose fragrance “Carnal Flower” should take a sniff of “Tambour Sacré”: the fleshy facets of this narcotic bloom could not be more pronounced. They also come to the fore in Malle's scent, but are kept in check by the entire fragrance spectrum of the tuberose - the intense floral white flower note, the carrion-like indoles, and green nuances. In “Tambour Sacré,” however, combined with an unsweetened coffee note, they break forth unrestrained, as if the carefully balanced equilibrium in the tuberose cosmos has suddenly shifted. Apparently, the dark-sour smelling coffee eliminates large parts of the floral kaleidoscope here, leaving the tuberose strangely naked, almost corporeal, indeed “carnal.” Even the squeaky pink chewing gum hints stand out quite unpleasantly without the robe that normally envelops them, exuding a penetrating hairspray aroma - all of this must be endured!
I admit, this is difficult, because this opening, this clash of the two main players that are supposed to shape the entire fragrance journey of “Tambour Sacré,” truly presents a challenge.
It doesn’t smell nice, at least not in the sense of ‘harmonious,’ ‘pleasant,’ or ‘gentle.’ No, this collision of harsh coffee and diva-like tuberose resembles more an olfactory slaughter, casting both contenders in an unflattering light. While they may smell wonderful on their own, here they do not smell good, neither the coffee nor the flower.
Fortunately, however, more players enter the stage and put an end to the confrontational antics. Cardamom and cinnamon soothingly season the coffee, bitter-skin fruits and the sweet scent of acacia pull the hysterically behaving tuberose from the battlefield.
The full, warm base, shaped by resins, woods, and balsams, does the rest, and the roosters calm down increasingly. After about an hour, a complex, dark-toned, herb-spicy, and only slightly sweet oriental aroma has developed, which for a change manages without the obligatory vanilla and trendy oud.
Now “Tambour Sacré” smells wonderful! And as if to compensate me for all the previous inconveniences, the fragrance, thanks to its Extrait de Parfum concentration, lasts an eternity.
Normally, I am not a fan of endlessly long-lasting fragrances, but in this case, I really have to make an exception, because this uniquely beautiful oriental, with the now reconciled tuberose-coffee duo in its heart, I can enjoy hour after hour.
The team around Andrea Bissoli Rubini, perfumer Cristiano Canali, and product designer Francesca Gotti has created another amazing fragrance after “Fundamental,” which, however, requires even more effort to appreciate than its predecessor. “Fundamental” was already a rather complex character with its strong, fruity-waxy grape accord, but in terms of difficulty, “Tambour Sacré” goes several steps further.
For me, this is art, truly great, admittedly modern fragrance art. However, it is such that I cannot recommend it by any means. I could just about recommend “Fundamental,” provided the recipient has an open nose for an unusual fragrance adventure. With “Tambour Sacré,” however, I know that I would encounter complete incomprehension - at least temporarily, the fragrance is an olfactory hell ride that I would not wish upon anyone.
And yet, I may be a wrong-way driver and believe that everyone else is going the wrong way: I like everything about “Tambour Sacré,” even the quirky opening.
In the meantime, I have found that the more often I wear the fragrance, the more I look forward to this wild start: to the unleashed tuberose that screeches into the freshly brewed, unspiced, and unsweetened coffee - magnificent!!!
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13 Comments


Thank you for your wonderful description.
I find the initial chaos you describe to be not so bad; I'm amazed by the sweetness I perceive and I enjoy this scent more and more with each passing hour.
It really lasts an eternity on my skin.
Your words mature in the mind into fragrant images.
Thank you for that.