3
It Gets Cold and Lonely at Night in the Palace
Game Palace Of Hell Master Night from the house of Ys-Uzac.
A difficult composition to wrap your head around and a chronological continuation of its predecessor, Dawn. I feel that my understanding of it was attributed to a large degree by having a good experience with the latter. The two perfumes are part of the same olfactory story and collection, hence in a way, it makes sense that they complete each other.
It feels simplistic to discuss notes and accords here as the perfume comes together in a way that conjures feelings, emotions, and places (real or imagined), like most creations of the house. To be able to go past the materials, beyond the note sheet, and transcend the artistic expression through emotion or a place and time is what Micotti excels at and draws me to his creations.
I smell wood. Deep, slightly musty, and dark. A heavy and deeply saturated woody aroma, augmented by a resinous core that runs through it. Old and stern.
Spoiled fruits and withered flowers. A slightly rancid smell still lingers from the fruit.
Incense burning. A cooling, somewhat mentholated fine smokiness that clings to the composition throughout. Cold and ceremonial it complements the woody undertones.
The embers are dying, the warmth is gone. The air is getting colder as the stillness of the Night falls over the room.
Is it a Palace? Perhaps. To me, it is an artist's studio. The story starts at Dawn. Bright and energetic. Embers are glowing in the fireplace warming the studio. The still-life arrangement of fruits and flowers still bears some vibrancy. There is a cigar box and a half-burned cigar on the table. Some Port Wine on the side. There is sweetness lingering in the air still. At Night, however, all these trivial artifacts of the terrestrial blemish into the aloof. The incense is burned in memory of the dead, the final judiciary who reigns triumphant over the silence and darkness.
IG:@memory.of.scents
A difficult composition to wrap your head around and a chronological continuation of its predecessor, Dawn. I feel that my understanding of it was attributed to a large degree by having a good experience with the latter. The two perfumes are part of the same olfactory story and collection, hence in a way, it makes sense that they complete each other.
It feels simplistic to discuss notes and accords here as the perfume comes together in a way that conjures feelings, emotions, and places (real or imagined), like most creations of the house. To be able to go past the materials, beyond the note sheet, and transcend the artistic expression through emotion or a place and time is what Micotti excels at and draws me to his creations.
I smell wood. Deep, slightly musty, and dark. A heavy and deeply saturated woody aroma, augmented by a resinous core that runs through it. Old and stern.
Spoiled fruits and withered flowers. A slightly rancid smell still lingers from the fruit.
Incense burning. A cooling, somewhat mentholated fine smokiness that clings to the composition throughout. Cold and ceremonial it complements the woody undertones.
The embers are dying, the warmth is gone. The air is getting colder as the stillness of the Night falls over the room.
Is it a Palace? Perhaps. To me, it is an artist's studio. The story starts at Dawn. Bright and energetic. Embers are glowing in the fireplace warming the studio. The still-life arrangement of fruits and flowers still bears some vibrancy. There is a cigar box and a half-burned cigar on the table. Some Port Wine on the side. There is sweetness lingering in the air still. At Night, however, all these trivial artifacts of the terrestrial blemish into the aloof. The incense is burned in memory of the dead, the final judiciary who reigns triumphant over the silence and darkness.
IG:@memory.of.scents