Bois Verna N•O•A•M 2022

In their audiophile music edition "Winter&Winter," Stefan Winter and Mariko Takahashi produce, alongside jazz and avant-garde classical recordings, the self-developed genre of "audio film" - "Cinema for closed eyes," as they aptly call their approach. These atmospheric collages of music, everyday sounds, and nature sounds are meant to take the listener on a journey to a specific place, at a specific time; around the compositions of sound images, detailed fictions often unfold. Since the themes are always musical, it does not merely culminate in soundscapes, but rather these provide the embedding for quite audible music.

N.O.A.M. - New Oceans and Meridians - chooses a not dissimilar approach in the olfactory realm. Scentscapes instead of soundscapes are what we have here; one could call it cinema for the deaf-blind. Or, as the manufacturer puts it: an olfactory space-time travel agency. And despite, or perhaps precisely because of, this fictional approach, it is not about experimental abstractions, but rather about quite wearable fragrances.

With "Bois Verna," I had now - thanks to Floyd - the opportunity to get to know a first scent from this house, and as a confessed vetiver lover, it made my heart skip a beat immediately. The theme here is Haiti; the name refers to a historic district of Port-au-Prince. But N.O.A.M. does not stop at this vague reference through the name, but tells us a detailed scent story of an early morning in 1979, of shady gardens full of tropical frangipani, citrus trees, and ylang-ylang, of Caribbean gingerbread architecture and the symbols of Vodou - and of vetiver.

It is a true cornucopia of notes that unite in this composition, yet it does not result in a potpourri, but rather a very subtle, multi-layered fragrance with a beautiful progression. Finely tuned, citrusy fresh and floral notes open the olfactory journey, soon underpinned by stronger spiciness. These are the morning gardens. One nuance or another wafts through the picture, sometimes white-flowering, sometimes fresh, sometimes spicy. Hesperides and lemon leaf. A slight ginger sharpness. Strong nutmeg, almost cinnamon-like. This is skillfully done.
Overall, this fragrance is very lively, sparkling, and shifting, very varied.

Eventually, increasingly earthy and rooty-woody notes come to the forefront, thematically representing the ground on which the filigree Vèvè symbols of the rites from the previous night testify; in terms of material, it consists of three different vetiver oils (Haiti, Réunion, India), in interplay with moss, sandalwood, and oud.

The vetiver facets here range from spicy-fresh to slightly earthy, yet they never appear dull or heavy. According to the manufacturer, newer batches of the fragrance even incorporate two different vetiver oils from Haiti: the first fresher, citrusy-grassy; the second spicier and more earthy-rooty. This combination of different vetiver raw materials has already proven to be a convincing approach in other fragrances I have encountered, creating multi-layered, shimmering vetiver interpretations. It works wonderfully here as well. The vetiver undergoes various transformations, while the fresh, subtly floral and spicy notes remain quite present. "Bois Verna" pulses, breathes.

In the meantime, one has stepped from the garden onto the street, and the subtitle to this scene reads: "A truck with freshly cut vetiver drives past us." And this is precisely the moment when my mind actually switches off and a new film begins: 2008, mid-afternoon, I am driving with a colleague through rural Haiti, glad to leave the monster Port-au-Prince for the first time since my arrival. In the area of Les Cayes, a wonderfully fresh, green-herbaceous scent wafts in through the open car window, and I cannot help but express my overwhelming sensation. My colleague informs me that the vetiver harvest has begun and adds, not without pride, that the region of Les Cayes is one of the world's most important cultivation areas for the sweet grass. This moment is the spark for the current, second phase of my passion for perfume. In any case, it is the starting point of my passion for vetiver in all its variants, shades, and nuances. And the starting point of a long search: for a fragrance that captures the mood of this journey through Haiti.

I have now, alas, studied Carven, Guerlain, Puig and Legrand, as well as Dior, Frédéric Malle and Nishane, Etro and Heeley, Saab, Lubin (and unfortunately also Tom Ford and Creed) with great effort... with the aim of reliving the olfactory impression of that distant afternoon from how many years ago. In vain...

Until today! Until this hint of recognition, somewhere in the base of "Bois Verna"! Bondye bon!

But, alas, nothing is perfect! Unfortunately... unfortunately, the truck drives by too quickly, and I cannot manage to stop it. Ironically, what could actually be called the great strength of "Bois Verna" - the chameleon-like interplay of notes, the dynamic liveliness - becomes my downfall here, along with my yearning. This is not due to the composition, but solely to my inflated expectations. The space-time journey works perfectly; I have just taken a wrong turn somewhere, following my nose in search of an inspiration. And here I stand, dreamily lingering on this notion, enchanted. And I wait for another spray of "Bois Verna" to once again grant me the grand cinema of the perfect vetiver accord.