Kovex

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

According to legend, in 1098, the Milanese crusader Ottotone Visconti was shipwrecked on the island and made a vow that if he were saved, he would build 100 places of worship on Lopud. Therefore, even today, numerous chapels, churches, and devotional stones can be admired on the island. Today, fewer than 300 people live on the small isle.

After a devastating earthquake in 1667, many buildings on the island were destroyed, and it could never regain the splendor of past days, as most 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.

It is here that the fragrance A Grove by the Sea connects, which only revealed itself to me after several wearings. At first, I smell the aroma of fig, but not the unsweet typical leaf green of many fig scents; rather, it is rounded out by a fruity-sweet note of clementine, which is generally a bit sweeter than oranges.

Alongside the fig, after a few minutes, Mediterranean herbs come into play for my perception. Rosemary and thyme seem plausible to me, but Rodrigo Flores-Roux has also transformed these in his own way. It is not the scent that arises in the hands when you crush the herbs between your fingers, but rather the aroma that lingers in the air when the sun has been beating down on the ground for hours, and the heat presses the bouquet from the plants, wafted by a delicate salty sea breeze coming in from the coast, enhancing the feeling of standing amidst a Mediterranean landscape.

The underlying scent of green olives is hardly discernible here; it serves more as a texture to create a framework around the wild herbs, the fig, and the gradually emerging needle-woody odor. Cypress is the dominant conifer, but the woody notes never take center stage; rather, they complement the overall impression, which is quite green. The clay adds at most a hint of mineral nuances; A Grove by the Sea certainly does not smell earthy.

Rodrigo Flores-Roux, who has created classics like Fougère Royale (2010) Eau de Parfum and the wonderful incense scent "Sahara Noir | Tom Ford," showcases his full talent here as well, which I have also positively noted in other fragrances from the Arquiste brand: there are no overt fragrance notes that dominate the scent. It is rather the subtle and delicate interplay of the individual components that creates novel olfactory impressions and images in the mind. The crunch of pine needles underfoot, the sea breeze blowing through the sun-drenched nature, allowing the plants to exude their essential oils from the leaves.

Friends of strong sillage and atomic longevity will surely not find their satisfaction here. However, lovers of subtle fragrances who enjoy being transported to foreign places, absorbing nature, and standing in awe of the beauty of our Earth will be fully satisfied here. For me, it is a scent that could hardly be more Mediterranean without resorting to 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 coast of Calabria, a few snippets 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 rained all day, untypical for the season, but the scent that the rain had washed from the scattered rocks - mineral, slightly salty, wet stone - was overwhelming, possessing something primal, natural. The exposed power of nature.

You had been here once before. 30 years ago. As you watched the young people a few dozen meters further down the beach, memories came flooding back. The surfboards stuck upright in the sand, the fire illegally lit on the beach, the sounds of Italo-pop carried to you by the wind, the voices and laughter, all of that you had experienced here too. It had been a long time. A touch of nostalgia spread over you.

As two of the young ladies from the group approached you, the wind carried their scent ahead. Probably some kind of sunscreen, lightly fruity-citrusy, accompanied by a subtle coconut note. But not as sweet and strong as the sunscreens you remembered from the 90s. Rather, a hint, delicately mingled with the salty sea air and the wet rocks. A few driftwood pieces that the storm had washed ashore this afternoon completed the olfactory picture perfectly. A scene by the sea that you don’t imagine, but that life has written into your biography.

*

For two years, you have started to let your hair grow long again. Perhaps a last attempt to reclaim your youth. Or maybe just an embarrassing sign of aging. Just as the setting sun kissed the surface of the sea and sent you a gigantic beam of fire made up of thousands of red-yellow-orange light spots across the water, the two girls passed by you. Blinded by the light spectacle on the water, you absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and blinked at the passersby. The smile that was given to you chased away your thoughtful nostalgia about lost youth. Maybe it wasn't all too late after all.
Time to return to the friends. To be able to enjoy and celebrate such old friendships here by the sea together... simply priceless.

The new line of Sorcinelli fragrances, consisting of 8 different scents with lavishly large blessing hands as bottle caps. For some, quirky; for others, fascinating in design, ranging from tasteless to stylish. Here, everyone will have a subjective opinion, and the spectrum is likely to be wide.

Memento - Latin for remember.

The reminder to live in the present, to enjoy the moment, to be aware of the fleetingness of time.
The recollection of the feelings etched in the soul, laughter, tears, happiness, and sorrow. The soul continuously whispers the stories of the past.
Memory as a blessing, to be aware of your worth and the importance of your path.
Memory as the key to a lock to live your dreams, to heal wounds.
Memory as an invitation not to forget that trust must be greater than the suffering we sometimes believe we have experienced.

Eight fragrances, inspired by famous places that stand for experiences of faith and devotion. Sacristies, the side rooms in churches where priests prepare for services and where all the items needed for worship are stored. Often also the place of spiritual and mental preparation for what may follow.

All marketing nonsense? One could see it that way - but one doesn’t have to.
The life design, the complexity and versatility of Filippo Sorcinelli can be gleaned from his resume. An artist - through and through. And isn’t it the viewing of artists through different eyes that shifts perspectives, makes new views possible, reveals new possibilities for thought? Exciting. What would life be without art? The creation of a perfume can also be art, far removed from business guidelines and market surveys. Interpretation and access are left to each individual.

Sacristie des Arbres - the forest

A place full of wisdom and secrets. A place where nature seems to speak with its tranquility and beauty. To connect with the trees, to listen to them, and to try to understand their silent lessons.

As is usually the case with Sorcinelli, the fragrance starts with an inverted fragrance pyramid. The mint, used rather defensively here, combined with equally subtle pine, initially provides a refreshing coniferous freshness and fits perfectly with the incense, which in its restraint immediately leads to a very contemplative scent impression. This feels very calming to me, almost meditative and reflective. I already want to attest to Sorcinelli that he has perfectly captured the theme of the forest, with its scientifically proven positive effect on the soul. The scent has completely taken me in already, playing up and down the keyboard of my preferred scent preferences. Wonderful.

The first scent impression remains quite long, the green of the mint and pine gently recedes, while the (needle-)woody impression with underlying incense remains until the end. Thankfully, I cannot detect the specified Damask rose at any point, and I do not miss an offensive sweetness that would not have suited the fragrance.

However, this changes only later in the fragrance's development, when the interplay of ambrette (slightly musky, reminiscent of amber), benzoin (sweet-resinous-balsamic), amber (warm-woody), and vanilla creates a captivatingly smooth and alluring scent impression. The incense, Sorcinelli's preferred scent note, acts here as a binder around all the other notes, holding them together, ensuring that the fundamental character of the fragrance shifts only slightly towards a more endearing direction, but never deviates from the core theme of needlewood, forest, contemplation, and tranquility.

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

As Gerhard Richter, Germany's most popular painter, once responded to the question of how he would interpret his painting: “I just paint. I leave the interpretation to others.”

I am happy to engage with that.

Those of you who test a lot know it. Often one thinks: I know this, I've had it before, it seems somehow familiar. A certain fatigue sets in. Until, yes until you stumble upon a gem that turns everything upside down and you are glad you haven't given up hope of finding a true treasure.

Indigo Smoke is such a little wonder for me.
I am neither a tea connoisseur nor a tea drinker, and I don't get overly excited about fragrances that list tea in the scent pyramid. With Lapsang Souchong tea, which is exclusively grown in the Fujian province of China, it's different. I'm not surprised, as this tea is characterized by a smoky note, and I usually enjoy smoky aromas.

Lapsang Souchong is essentially a black tea that acquires its special aroma through smoking over spruce wood and pine roots, followed by roasting in a pan, rolling, oxidizing, and smoking again, which evokes memories of campfires and almost overshadows the actual tea flavor.

In contrast to my esteemed predecessor reviewer Intersport, I perceive this smoky note very distinctly shortly after spraying the fragrance. However, those who dislike smoke can breathe easy; it is all very socially acceptable and far removed from calibers like the Beaufort fragrances, for instance. Moreover, quite quickly, the main player of the scent takes the stage: the apricot accompanied by a whisper of citrus freshness.

Normally, alarm bells should be ringing for me at this point. I primarily know apricot from classic women's fragrances of yesteryear (which often come across as quite feminine) or in the context of modern sweet fruit bombs like Xerjoff, and those are definitely not my thing. The surprise is all the greater, and yes, I am delighted; it simply smells stunning here. They have left out the fruit sugar, and the apricot comes across as almost cool and refreshing, contrasting excellently with the initial smoky aroma.

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

Overall, all the ingredients seem well-measured and carefully employed. Woods provide only a foundational structure, while incense wafts gently through the other scent notes and lightens them up a bit. Only the apricot remains consistently present throughout and never veers into a sweet direction. This makes it absolutely suitable even in warmer temperatures.

The sillage is moderate, yet you experience the fragrance for many hours, as it is far removed from common scent patterns, and that is what makes it appealing to me. On one hand, it is quite pleasing and should not clash or stand out, while on the other hand, it smells so distinctive and extraordinary that it brings joy every time it brushes past the nostrils.

The only difficulty lies in obtaining Arquiste fragrances, as neither their own online shop nor the listed online retail partners 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 you know how it is; when you really want a fragrance, you find a way to get it, even if it requires some effort.

The brand has not disappointed me so far, and with Indigo Smoke, I am now completely thrilled, especially when you have already smelled a lot and no longer want to follow the mass-compatible fragrances.

In recent years, I have occasionally come across fragrances by Ramon Monegal. Although all of them left a good impression on me, none managed to excite me. This is probably the reason why I haven't delved deeper into his work until now. That should change with The New Paradise.

I wasn't even aware that Ramon Monegal is also considered one of the heavyweights in the perfume industry.

His ancestors founded the company Myrurgia in 1916, which not only produced drugstore items and perfumes but also paints and lacquers, eventually becoming the court supplier to 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 it with renowned figures in the industry in Geneva, Grasse, and finally Paris. It seemed inevitable that his path would lead him to the top of the family business Myrurgia, which was taken over by Puig in 2000.

However, when one seemingly achieves everything, one strives for greater heights, culminating in his founding of his own perfume brand in 2008 (other sources indicate 2009) with the desire to create fragrances shaped by artistic freedom and without the constraints of others under his own name.

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

The New Paradise is the first of his fragrances that I tested, which immediately captivated me. Okay, that wasn't too difficult, as fig scents usually have an easy time with me. But this is not a fragrance that puts fig in the spotlight; it starts off with the typical green, unsweetened fig note. This is accompanied by a beautifully bitter citrus note, which I love. I can't really pick out the fern, but it might enhance the green impression alongside the fig.

In contrast to many other fig fragrances, this is not a soliflore, as soon rose and jasmine soon contribute very aromatic floral notes that do not drift into the feminine at all, as I cannot attribute any sweetness to the fragrance at any time, even though other testers (see statements) had a different impression. In my opinion, the fig prevents exactly that, as it remains present in perception for a long time, which certainly aligns with my preference for fig fragrances. Lily of the valley in fragrances often provides a certain coolness, which is also present here and prevents it from becoming too sweet or feminine, so the fragrance is rightly classified as unisex.

Not much happens after that. Oak moss frames the scent impression in a green and slightly bitter way. I can only faintly sense warming amber in the base; I wouldn't have guessed it in a blind test.

Overall, The New Paradise feels very “perfumy” to me, a term that has been discussed frequently in the forum, as everyone understands something different by it. For me, it means that the fragrance does not feel like a second skin on me, as if it merges with me. I feel rather perfumed. One might compare this to a man who usually wears jeans and a T-shirt/hoodie and is suddenly put into a fine suit. It pinches and constricts, feels unfamiliar, perhaps even feels like a costume. But eventually, he realizes that a sublime feeling of style and chic creeps in, and then he begins to appreciate it.

Whenever I move, The New Paradise wafts around my nose like a foreign body, and I try to determine the origin of the fine scent until I realize that it is me who smells so good ;) Is it bad that the fragrance does not merge with me? Not at all! On the contrary, this recurring pleasant scent brings me joy every time and puts a smile on my face.

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