Kovex

A Grove by the Sea is a tribute to the Croatian island of Lopud in the Adriatic, which was bought by the Republic of Dubrovnik in the 11th century and became the seat of the republic's governor in 1459. Many noble families built their summer estates on the island and until the 17th century the shipping industry and maritime trade flourished on the island, which was home to up to 14,000 people. For a long time it was known as the island of captains, the birthplace of the most famous sailors of the Dubrovnik Republic and the aristocracy of its time.

According to legend, the Milanese crusader Ottotone Visconti was stranded on the island in 1098 and made a vow that if he was rescued, he would build 100 churches on Lopud. This is why numerous chapels, churches and devotional stones can still be admired on the island today. Today, fewer than 300 people live on the small island.

After a devastating earthquake in 1667, many buildings on the island were destroyed and it was never able to regain its former glory, as most of the inhabitants left the island. Left to nature, a wild growth of plants emerged. The entire landscape is an aromatic paradise of green figs, dried pine needles, wild herbs and the subtle, nutty scent of olive oil.

This is exactly where the fragrance A Grove by the Sea comes in, which I only discovered after wearing it several times. At the beginning, I smell the aroma of fig, but not the unsweet, typical leafy green of many fig fragrances, but rounded off with a fruity-sweet component of clementine, which is usually a little sweeter than oranges.

After a few minutes, I find that the fig is accompanied by Mediterranean herbs. Rosemary and thyme seem plausible to me, but Rodrigo Flores-Roux has also changed these in his own way. It's not the smell that you get when you rub the herbs between your fingers, but rather the aroma that is in the air when the sun has been burning the ground for hours and the heat has squeezed the bouquet out of the plants, surrounded by a delicately salty sea breeze that blows in from the coast and reinforces the feeling of standing in the middle of a Mediterranean landscape.

The subliminal scent of green olives is barely discernible here, serving more as a texture to create a bracket around the wild herbs, the fig and the coniferous odeur that gradually emerges. Cypress is the dominant coniferous wood, but the woody notes never come to the fore either, but rather complement the overall impression, which is kept quite green. The clay adds a hint of mineral nuances at best, but A Grove by the Sea certainly does not smell earthy.

Rodrigo Flores-Roux, who has created classics such as Fougère Royale (2010) Eau de Parfum by Houbigant or the wonderful incense fragrance Sahara Noir by Tom Ford, also shows all his skills here, which I have also noticed positively in other fragrances from the Arquiste brand: there are no bold notes that dominate the fragrance. Instead, it is the subtle and delicate interplay of the individual components that creates new scent impressions and images in the mind. The crunching of pine needles underfoot, the sea breeze blowing through the sun-drenched nature and the essential oils of the plants evaporating from the leaves.

Fans of strong sillage and atomic longevity will certainly not get their money's worth here. However, lovers of subtle fragrances who like to be whisked away to foreign places, soak up nature and are in awe of the beauty of our earth will be fully satisfied here. For me, a fragrance that could hardly be more Mediterranean without having to make use of artificial aquatic synthetics, summer feelings included.

You were now at an age where you could afford things that were unthinkable 30 years ago. It was to be a reunion with many old friends from the past. From the finca you had rented near the beach on the Calabrian coast, a few scraps of music drifted over as you retreated to the beach for a few quiet minutes to dig your feet into the still damp sand.

It had been raining all day, atypical for the time of year, but the smell that the rain had washed from the scattered rocks - mineral, slightly salty, wet stone - was overwhelming, had something primal, natural about it. The exposed power of nature.

You've been here before. Thirty years ago. As you watched the young people a few dozen meters away on the beach, memories came flooding back. The surfboards rammed upright into the sand, the fire illegally lit on the beach, the sounds of Italo pop carried to you by the wind, the voices and the laughter, you had experienced all of that here too. It was a long time ago. A hint of melancholy spread.

As two of the young ladies from the group approached you, the wind carried their scent ahead of them. Probably some kind of sun cream, slightly fruity and citrusy, accompanied by a subtle hint of coconut. But not as sweet and strong as the sun creams you remember from the 90s. Rather a hint of the salty sea air and the wet rocks. A few driftwoods that the storm had washed up this afternoon made the olfactory picture perfect. A scene by the sea that you don't make up, but that life has written into your CV.

*

You started growing your hair long again two years ago. Perhaps a last attempt to bring back your youth. Or maybe it's just an embarrassing quirk of old age. Just as the setting sun kissed the surface of the sea and sent a gigantic beam of fire made up of thousands of red-yellow-orange spots of light across the water, the two girls passed by. Dazzled by the spectacle of light on the water, you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and blinked up at the passers-by. The smile that was given to you dispelled your pensive melancholy about your past youth. Maybe it wasn't all too late after all.
Time to go back to your friends. Being able to enjoy and celebrate such old friendships together here by the sea.... simply priceless.

The new range of Sorcinelli fragrances, consisting of 8 different fragrances with expansive large blessing hands as bottle lids. Some find the design bizarre, others find it fascinating, from tasteless to stylish. Everyone will have a subjective opinion here and the range is likely to be wide.

Memento - Latin, to remember.

The memory of living in the present, enjoying the moment, being aware of the fleeting nature of time.
Remembering the feelings burned into the soul, laughter, tears, happiness and sorrow. The soul constantly whispers the stories of the past.
Memory as a blessing to be aware of your value and the importance of your path.
Memory as a key to a lock to live your dreams, to heal wounds.
The memory as an invitation not to forget that trust must be greater than the suffering we sometimes experience makes us believe.

Eight fragrances inspired by famous places that represent the experience of faith and devotion to it. Sacristies, the side rooms in churches where priests and priestesses prepare for services and where all the objects needed for the service are kept. Often also the place of spiritual and mental preparation for what may follow.

Is it all marketing jargon? You can see it that way - but you don't have to.
Filippo Sorcinelli's life plan, complexity and versatility can be seen in his CV. An artist through and through. And isn't looking at artists through different eyes what shifts the perspective, makes new views possible, opens up new possibilities for thought? Exciting. What would life be without art? The creation of a perfume can also be art, far removed from commercial guidelines and market surveys. Interpretation and approach are up to the individual.

Sacristie des Arbres - the forest

A place full of wisdom and secrets. A place where nature seems to speak with its peace and beauty. Get in touch with the trees, listen to them and try to understand their silent lessons.

As is usually the case with Sorcinelli, the fragrance starts with an inverted olfactory pyramid. The mint, used quite defensively here, in combination with equally subtle pine initially provides an invigorating coniferous freshness and goes perfectly with the incense, whose restraint immediately leads to a very contemplative fragrance impression. This has a very calming, almost meditative and contemplative effect on me. I would already like to attest to the fact that Sorcinelli has perfectly captured the theme of the forest, with its scientifically proven positive effect on the soul. The fragrance has already completely taken me in, playing up and down the keyboard of my preferred scent preferences. Wonderful.

The first impression of the fragrance lingers for quite a long time, the green of the mint and pine gently recedes, the (coniferous) woody impression with subtle incense remains until the end. Thankfully, I can't detect the Damask rose at any time and I don't miss any offensive sweetness that would have done the fragrance any good.

However, this only changes as the fragrance progresses, when the interplay of ambrette (slightly musky, reminiscent of ambergris), benzoin (sweet, resinous, balsamic), amber (warm, woody) and vanilla creates a beguilingly smooth and attractive fragrance impression. The incense, Sorcinelli's preferred fragrance note, acts here as a bracket around all the other notes, holding them together and ensuring that the basic character of the fragrance shifts in a sweeter direction at best, but never deviates from the basic theme of coniferous wood, forest, contemplation and tranquillity.

Sacristie des Arbres completely convinced me, not only as a fragrance, but also in its advertised thematic reference to religious localization. For me, this is understandable.

How did Gerhard Richter, Germany's most popular painter, once answer the question of how he would interpret his painting? "I only paint. I leave the interpretation to others."

I'm happy to go along with that.

Those of you who test a lot know it. You often think: I've seen it before, I've done it before, it looks familiar somehow. A certain fatigue sets in. Until, yes, until you come across another gem that overturns everything and you're glad you haven't given up hope of finding a real gem.

Indigo Smoke is such a little miracle for me.
I'm neither a tea connoisseur nor a tea drinker, and I don't get excited when a tea is listed in the fragrance pyramid. It's different with Lapsang Souchong tea, which is grown exclusively in the province of Fujian/China. I'm not surprised, as this tea is characterized by a smoky note and I usually like smoky aromas.

Lapsang Souchong is basically a black tea that is first smoked over spruce wood and pine roots, then roasted in a pan, rolled, oxidized and smoked again to give it its special aroma, which is reminiscent of a campfire and almost overshadows the actual taste of the tea.

In contrast to my esteemed previous reviewer Intersport, I perceive this smoky note very clearly shortly after spraying on the fragrance. Smoke despisers can breathe a sigh of relief, however, as this is all very socially acceptable and a far cry from calibers such as the Beaufort fragrances. Especially as the main protagonist of the fragrance enters the stage quite quickly, the apricot accompanied by a citrus freshness.

Normally, this should set alarm bells ringing for me. I know apricot primarily from classic women's fragrances of the past (which often have a rather feminine effect) or in the context of modern sweetened fruit bombs like Xerjoff, which are not my cup of tea. All the greater the surprise, and yes, I go into raptures, this smells simply stunning. They left out the fructose, the apricot is almost cool and refreshing and contrasts perfectly with the initial smoky aroma.

Cassia, a laurel plant and relative of cinnamon, which tastes rather tart to bitter-tart, forms a nice counterpoint to the existing fruitiness and complements the apricot with a fine and subtle spiciness.

In general, all the ingredients are well measured and carefully used. Woods only form a basic structure as a base, incense only gently wafts through the other fragrance notes and airs them out a little. Only the apricot remains a constant presence throughout the fragrance and never becomes too sweet. This makes it absolutely suitable for warmer temperatures.

The sillage is moderate and yet you get a lot out of the fragrance yourself over many hours, as it is far removed from the usual fragrance patterns and that is precisely what makes it so appealing to me. On the one hand, it is quite pleasing and should not offend or attract attention, on the other hand, it smells so distinctive and unusual that it always gives you pleasure when it brushes past your nostrils.

The only thing that is somewhat difficult is sourcing Arquiste fragrances, as neither the company's own online store nor the online retail partners listed deliver to Europe. Many of the perfumeries listed on the website in the respective European countries only have a limited selection of Arquiste fragrances. But as you know, if you really want a fragrance, you will get there, even if it takes some effort.

The brand hasn't disappointed me so far and with Indigo Smoke it has even totally thrilled me, especially if you've already smelled a lot of things and don't want to follow the mass-compatible fragrances anymore.

In recent years, fragrances from Ramon Monegal have come under my nose from time to time. Even if all of them have left a good impression on me, but none was there that put me in enthusiasm. Probably the reason why I have not yet dealt more closely with his person. That should change with The New Paradise.

I was at least not aware that Ramon Monegal is also one of the heavyweights in the perfume industry.

His ancestors founded already in 1916, the Unternehme Myrurgia, which produced not only drugstore items and perfume, but also paints and varnishes and developed over time to the court supplier of the Spanish royal family and the most important international perfume company in Spain.

In the fourth generation, Ramon Monegal began his training in 1972 in Barcelona and continued with renowned greats of the industry in Geneva, Grasse and finally Paris. That his path led to the top of the family business Myrurgia, which was acquired by Puig in 2000, seemed inevitable.

However, when you have supposedly achieved everything, you aspire to higher things, which culminated in his founding his own perfume brand in 2008 (other sources indicate 2009) with the desire to create fragrances under his own name without the guidelines of third parties and characterized by artistic freedom.

In this context, there is a beautiful quote from him:
"Next to nature, my most important source of inspiration is literature. I can turn words into notes, phrases into chords, stories into compositions, and ink into imagined perfume."

The New Paradise is the first of his fragrances I tested that grabbed me immediately. Ok, that wasn't too hard, because fig scents usually have it very easy with me. But it is not a fragrance that puts the fig in the center, but initially starts only with the typical green unsweet fig note. This is accompanied by a nice bitter citrus note, as I like it so much. The fern I do not really smell out, next to the fig he could strengthen the green impression, however.

Unlike many other fig fragrances, however, this is not a soliflor, because soon rose and jasmine contribute very aromatic floral notes, but by no means drift into the feminine, because sweetness I can attest to the fragrance at no time even if other testers (see statements) had a different impression. In my opinion, the fig prevents exactly that, it remains the perception namely long, which is me and my preference for fig fragrances of course very accommodating. Lily of the valley in fragrances often provide a certain coolness, which also comes into play here and in turn prevents it from becoming too sweet or feminine, so that the fragrance is rightly classified as unisex.

There is then not much more going on. Oak moss frames the fragrance impression green and slightly tart. Warming amber I can at best guess in the base, but in the blind test I would not have guessed him.

Overall, The New Paradise seems very "perfumey" to me, a term that has been discussed more often in the forum, since everyone here understands something different about it. For me, this means that the fragrance does not act like a second skin on me, as if it would merge with me. I rather feel scented. You can perhaps compare this to a man who normally wears jeans and a t-shirt/hoodie and is now suddenly put into a fine suit. It pinches and constricts, is unfamiliar, maybe it even feels dressed up. Eventually, however, he realizes that a sublime sense of style and chic creeps in, and then the learning to appreciate begins.

Whenever I move, The New Paradise blows around my nose like a foreign body and I try to find out the origin of the fine fragrance until I realize that it is me who smells so good here ;) Now is that bad that the fragrance does not melt into me? Not at all! on the contrary, this recurring fragrance prepares me every time a joy and conjures up a smile on my face.

Thus, in the end, I also understand the initially clumsy name of the fragrance The New Paradise:
"Utopia of a new paradise. Impressionistic return to nature. Harmony between plants and new molecules. For me, the idea of paradise, like the best utopia of nature, always provokes the attempt to interpret it. To unite in perfect harmony the pure joy of the senses, flowers, fruits, woods and roots, like an allegorical nectar of optimism and well-being."