Scentzilla!

First, I’d like to thank Barry (a prince among men, heh) for sharing this fragrance with me. It’s nigh on impossible to find in the States, and not easy to come by elsewhere either. Czech & Speake no longer list this as part of their regular line up, for example, but as a “new” offering. The scarcity of it is allegedly due to production problems, which in turn means supply problems. Scuttlebutt has it that Czech & Speake will begin producing Dark Rose again sometime early this year, but sadly, I recall hearing the same things last year, so who knows what will become of it?

Dark Rose begins with a lonely chill: a solitary walk down an empty corridor that’s filled only with the sound of your own footfalls. Near-frozen reedy notes cast long winter shadows, and give no clues as to what will follow. I hope this won’t be off-putting to anyone, but that opening blast reminds me of strolling through the market and smelling the fresh fish on ice. It’s cold, and weirdly iron-rich like the taste of blood.

Slowly the eponymous “rose” asserts itself, but not without its saffron companion. The two are intertwined here, and form the fragrance’s core character. In certain respects, they do lend Dark Rose a resemblence to Agent Provocateur, but where Agent Provocateur is headstrong and marked by wild, nearly maniacal sillage, Dark Rose behaves with reserve and austerity. I would go so far as to refer to it as a stoic rose, for while it is full of its own life, it seems comparatively passionless compared to other rose fragrances. This is not a criticism.

Notes of sandalwood, arid resin, and a resolutely transparent amber fill out the rest of the composition. Intonations of tightly stretched leather seems to be implied throughout the body of this scent, though I am unsure if this is an actual note.

This fragrance feels compressed, like a ball of prepared masa harina rolled flat into a tortilla. Again, in this case it is not cause for criticism. It adds to Dark Rose’s austere air. Plus, I must point out it’s much easier to wrap a tortilla around things than with a big ball of dough. And so it goes with this cologne, which wraps around my skin with an ease that not all rose scents possess. I’d specifically suggest Dark Rose as an option for folks who might think that they can’t “do” roses.

The stoicism with the cologne makes it ideally suited for men. Not to discourage women from seeking it out, of course, but I think I’d be drawn helplessly to any man who wore it. If I were to pick any scent from this line for men, it would be this one, which was I feel incorectly designated as a female scent by Czech & Speake (if I recall correctly, that is.) It is not my favorite, that one being No. 88, but thus far I have been very pleased with all four scents I’ve tried from their house.

Top image entitled “Stoic,” by Patick St. Germain, from art.com. Second image is from a series of strobe photos taken of a bullet shot through roses dipped in liquid nitrogen - the credits, and information about the photos can be read at http://web.mit.edu/luminea/Public/strobe-lab/about.html. It’s neat, and I totally recommend looking at the playing card photos, too.

Czech & Speake’s Frankincense and Myrrh cries out stentorian, “LAVENDER!” for the first several minutes of wear. It takes roughly twenty minutes after application for the lavender note to start using its “indoor” voice. As it quiets down, the utter dryness of this scent finally becomes apparent. Chamomile erodes deep grooves into what I perceive as a dehydrated orangey note, and these soon taper down into the namesake notes of the fragrance.

We in the western parts of the world tend to associate frankincense and myrrh with the Christmas story, and gravitate towards the idea of them smelling primarily of church services. However, this is not a cologne for those seeking a scent rendolent of smoking sticky-sweet incense, or gummy resins.

In this fragrance, frankincense and myrrh are presented as arid as the climate and region in which the trees they drip from grow. A parched sandalwood note further extends my impression of waterless resins baking in the sun. The overall impression is one of dry woodiness tingling with the same sensation, though utterly different smell, of the feel from a smear of Vicks VapoRub. I would also compare this tingle to that weird feeling you get when you bite into tin foil because you’re apparently not bright enough to figure out how to properly unwrap a stick of gum. *Ahem* Not me. It happened to a friend once. You buy that right?

I can’t decide if I like this scent or not. I’ve been playing with it off and on for a few months, and still can’t make up my mind one way or the other. But I do appreciate it. I found out this week that I do really dig it when I layer it with Creed’s Cuir de Russie, though I need to warn I think it’s a potent cocktail that requires a light hand.

Images all photographs by Minor White. From top: “Sand and Water,” 1950, Gitterman Gallery; “Christmas Ornament,” 1958, Swann Galleries; “Root and Frost,” 1958, Joseph Bellows Gallery.

Czech & Speake claim No. 88 is based upon an old Elizabethan recipe, and it certainly has that texture. The arrangement seems vaguely familiar, but the excellence of No. 88 resides in its elegant style. My enjoyment of it is akin to watching artfully made Hong Kong action films . Many of the wuxia-type movies I like best seem embedded in an old recipe, too. But nowadays what elevates a flick to a film has much to do with the way the stylistic choices are made, and the depth and resonance of those choices.

A bittersweet bergamot opens No. 88, brightening my skin with shafts of cold sunlight. A clean floral element amalgamates into this note as if it were a herbal tonic. As the scent warms, the light remains cold while the cologne’s colors intensify in tone.

A rose then actuates, moving through the golden liquid. Its path is defined by the sandalwood rooted in place. While this mix may read as ordinary, in No. 88 it is anything but.

Green elements lurk inside its heart. A barbered tang* of geranium somehow fills the fragrance with both stealth and stridency. When I’m not paying attention I don’t notice it at all for a while. And then BOO! its there.

Vetiver is often noticed in No. 88 by other perfume fans, but I think if this note is used in the base, it is to cast a stemmy shadow against the brighter shadings of the rosy sandalwood backdrop.

As a whole, the scent wears remote on me, as if it is distancing itself from my skin.

It’s like being close enough to stare at a warm glow, but too far removed to feel the heat. This may sound like a negative quality, and for some folks it will be, yet I find the effect strangely beautiful.

Starting from the top, with image source cited in parenthesis, the movie images above are: Fong Sai Yuk (cinemafareast.de), Hero (Yahoo! Movies), House of Flying Daggers (Yahoo! Movies), The Bride With White Hair (portlandstreet.com), and The Legend of Zu (hkcinemagic.com). I especially recommend Fong Sai Yuk, since it’s my favorite Jet Li movie. (He didn’t always make crummy Hollywood movies with second-rate pop stars.)

*Pun not intended, but there it is I guess.

Czech & Speake is an English company that specializes in plumbing supplies. Except they call them “luxury” “fittings.” Okay, so they’re fancy plumbing supplies. They also just happen to sell fragrances and shaving toiletries.

Their Neroli strikes me as a bright, particularly focused scent, and wears as a linear (without a tiered development) cologne on me. It’s juicy, almost like that syrupy liqueur Triple Sec, and flowered with orange blossoms that float in the air. Buried deep inside is what seems to me like a wee dab of a very nice sandalwood. And that’s about it. I think if anything, this fragrance conveys to me a sense of simple folksy joy and bouncy energy.

It’s much like the same feeling I get from Johnny Cash’s Orange Blossom Special. (It’s an ode to riding the rails, not to orange trees, but it’s a nice coincidence of title, I think.) Click here to listen to Amazon.com’s sample clip of the song, or on the title hyperlink to hear clips from the whole album.

To my husband, who rarely offers up a perfume opinion unbidden, Czech & Speake Neroli “smells like something you’d plug into the wall.” And… GAH! I so wanted to deny him his truth, but, *looooooooong sigh*, I couldn’t. It does kind of smell like something you’d plug into the wall. Crud. Silly man went and ruined it for me.

Glade Plug-Ins notwithstanding, this is worth checking out if you are an ardent neroli/orange blossom fan. This scent does not warrant purchase of a full bottle for me, given the price for such a simple affair. But I am glad to have picked up a small decant from a reputable eBay vendor, and I would suggest to others that they may wish to start there before committing to a whole bottle.

The image used is entitled “Gettin’ Down,” by artist and Oregon resident Mary Bertoli. Her collages reflect her experiences in Mississippi, where she devoted a significant portion of her time and energy in education centers bringing art to students with extremely limited monetary resources. Each piece is created with tissue paper. They are all shaped by hand - scissors never touch a single piece. With each new image, she tries to capture the life and spirit of all the people she met and still knows in the Delta. I enjoy her work, but more importantly, I think she’s a really neat lady. It appears the best source for purchasing prints and cards of her work online is through this site.