Perfumery Material: Elemi

Patricia Davis in her Aromatherapy A-Z [1] claims that the source of the name "elemi" is an Arabic phrase meaning "above and below" (in itself an abbreviation of "as above, so below") which hints at the spiritual connotations of this sacred ingredient. Similar to frankincense and muhuhu, both in botanical terms and in terms of smell, elemi is not thick and deep like familiar amber mixes. The overall scent of elemi can best be typified in perfume lingo as "terpenic", an aroma typified by fresh pine needles, clean, green with citrusy and coriander undertones. It's therefore not unusual to see it featured in the context of "pine" compositions or in masculine fragrances, as well as in incense blends.

Canarium Luzonicum

The clear yellow liquid has a thin rather than thick consistency and it surprises with its lemony "clean" aspects which are exotic, yet fresh. This is accountable to limonene (a prime lemon molecule) that comprises more than half of the fragrant constituents of the material make-up. The odor profile of elemi is akin to a dill pickle, with a peppery and fennel facet, discernible citrus piquancy, but less tart than expected from that reference. For those reasons elemi oil blends perfectly with notes that share this uplifting fresh quality within their bouquet, be it materials classified as "aromatic" (such as lavender, clary sage and rosemary) or those in the "resinous fresh" category (such as frankincense—which also shares a lemony top-note—and myrrh). It has long being used to extend citrus products thanks to its higher resistance to heat.

The elemi resinoid on the other hand has the spicy peppery and woody-grassy facets more pronounced making it pair perfectly with pepper, woods (patchouli and vetiver especially), and sweet grass, while its constituent elemicin is shared with nutmeg. Elemol is the molecule that gives it its characteristic "flavor."

 Elemi's use in embalming, found in sarcophagi buried in ancient tombs has been celebrated through the ages. The ancient Egyptians championed elemi in the intricate embalming process (alongside styrax, turpentine, benzoin, and other materials) to help the bodies retain their dryness and freshness throughout the centuries. Is the tale that the name derives from an ancient African tribal god whose name translates as "keeper of the spirit" relevant? It's a story steeped in mystery.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica it was Pliny the Elder who first referenced a styptic medicine with the name "enhaemon," which contained "tears" of a gum substance from the olive tree of Arabia. After the Middle Ages the resin from the Boswellia frereana tree, a Somalian variant (Maydi) of the genus that gives as frankincense, was referred to as "elemi". Its inclusion in Coptic incense (i.e. the incense used by the Coptic Christian church of Egypt), helped the confusion, as elemi is frequently a participant in incense blends. Later, in the 18th century, when the exploration of new lands in the Americas was still going on, the resin derived from the genus Icica from Brazil was -again- called "elemi." 

Amyris elemifera

Today however when we refer to elemi it stands for the resinoid and the essential oil, a gum harvested from the tree Canarium Commune, Linn (N.O. Burseraceae). or Canarium Luzonicum which grows in the Philippines, both wild and cultivated. The Manila Canarium ovatum variety (the "pili" nut) is grown also for its skin-beneficial properties which European brands, Chanel among them, use in their skincare lines. Manila elemi is actually a trade name for the soft, fragrant exudates obtained from the trunk of the Canarium tree species which includes "pili." The gum is obtained by exudation of the trees: when the trunks of the trees get an incision resin flows from there, forming "tears," as the liquid solidifies when coming into contact with the air. The collected tears are then steam-distilled to get the essential oil or they are treated with volatile solvents to produce an elemi resinoid.

It is important not to confuse elemi from the Canarium Luzonicum tree from the oleoresin from the Amyris elemifera tree (also known as "torchwood"), the trunks of which exude a type of balsam (oleoresin) that contains elemic acids, liquid sesquiterpenes, and triterpenes such as α- and β-amyrin among other components. To differentiate we can briefly say that Amyris elemifera produces "Mexican elemi", whereas the Canarium Commune variety produces the "Manila elemi". The Amyris derived elemi essence has a sandalwood scent profile, woody balsamic, similar to other balsams, without the complexity of natural sandalwood, rather than citrusy terpenic. Essential oils containing caryophyllene, cadinene, and cadinol are extracted from Amyris balsamifera and Amyris elemifera. These are used in varnishes, perfumes, medicines, cosmetics, soaps, and incense.

Fragrances rich in elemi notes:

Biehl Parfumkinstwerke MB03
Byredo Chembur
Cerruti 1881 pour Homme
CB I Hate Perfume Violet Empire
Chanel Allure Homme Sport
Comme des Garcons Avignon
Davidoff Cool Water Deep
Dior Homme Sport
Diptyque Eau Duelle
Gucci by Gucci pour Homme
Guerlain L'instant pour Homme
Hermes Eau de Merveilles
Histoire des Parfums 1740 Marquis de Sade
Ineke Gilded Lily
Kenzo L'Eau par Kenzo Indigo Pour Homme
Lagerfeld Femme
Lalique White
Lorenzo Villoresi Incensi
Marc Jacobs Bang
Miller Harris La Fumee
Neela Vermeire Mohur
Neela Vermeire Trayee
Olfactive Studio Autoportrait
Olfactive studio Still Life
Roberto Cavalli Her
Victor & Rolf Spicebomb

[1] Cambridge. The C.W. Daniel Company Limited. 1998

Amouage Honour Woman & Honour Man: fragrance reviews

I distinctly recall watching Cio-Cio San ritualistically commit suicide with her father's knife at the end scene of Madama Butterfly and thinking that despite the glorious music, the storyline lacked the tragic depths of Euripides's Medea, fresh in my mind from school. It was more simplistic too: one straight plot line, girl wins boy, girl loses boy, girl commits hara kiri. Surely, both heroines were cruelly abandonded by their foreign lovers for whom they sacrificed everything, but somehow taking one's life seemed to my childish eyes as an easy way out; eternally pining for the grave sin of filicide, uniting both tragic lovers & parents in pain, seemed vastly more weighty. But the Japanese notion of honour wanted it so and further exploration of Japonism acclimatized me with the idea in the end. Honour Woman and Honour Man, fragrances inspired ~as Christopher Chong revealed~ by the ending act of Puccini's Madama Butterfly, come as a stop at a multifarious course.

The prolific art director for Omani-based firm Amouage, C. Chong, is issuing perfume duos for some time now, having the best noses creating under his guidance: From the majestic Jubilation 25 for women and Jubilation XXV for men to the sweeping Epic for Men and Epic for Women, the rich fragrances have lured lovers of true luxury and superb raw materials creating something of a mini cult. Even when the skeleton is recognisable as belonging to a specific category met again, the fleshing out of the robust contours is impressive enough to warrant uniqueness.

In order to assess both Honour editions, it's essential to examine how they interpret the concept: Instead of playing out the scenario of Puccini's heroes in one's mind, it might be better to see the scents as a modern extention of a viewer who sees their shadows cast in the wings; oriental elements petering, but those are not reserved for the Far East, they also draw upon the Middle-Eastern tradition: incense, elemi resin, jasmine, the Spice Route, pepper worth its weight in gold and finally Indian tuberose...This amalgam of richness is woven into a tapestry that is not reminiscent of any one culture, yet stands on the edge between ancient, rich in resins & flower essences natural perfumery and the modern ethereal treatment that ensures fragrances remain contemporary as if fueled by electrified air.
Both Honour Woman and Honour Man are typically Amouage in their individual way, showcasing what natural oils can do to instil richness and depth in fragrance, possessing as they do a sort of 3D-expansion which reveals facets interlocking with each other in an olfactory Rubik's Cube.

Amouage Honour Woman, created by perfumers Alexandra Carlin and Violaine Collas, is galvanised by the power of pink jasmine, fruity, succulent and nectarous as if oozing sexy honey, floriental, womanly and seductive and yet light enough to be enjoyed during the summer. The bouquet reminded me of a less campy Vamp à NY, chokeful as that one is too of real, vibrant natural white flowers, hints of big Bazooka gum pieces laced with banana-fruit facets. Smelling Honour Woman on top, I'm struck by the swift progression from the peppery-camphoraceous green note which foreshadows tuberose (in reality spicy notes and that certain subtle root-beer touch which is so familiar to Americans) into the intensely sweet, fruity and upbeat jasmine heart that is all out nature red in tooth and claw. The white floral essences stimulate Honour Woman into a melodious cadenza that seems never ending, supremely lasting onto blotter, clothes, nostrils, soft skin, decolletage...And yet, the supporting of that floral sweetness by somber notes like green vetiver and serene incense makes Honour Woman a pliable, real femme who can yield under the power of love, rather than an hysterical madwoman who scatters her demands right and left. The success and beauty of Amouage Honour Woman lie in the balance of diva-esque characteristcs with the cool attitude of seeing the brightest morning light as the most natural thing in the world...which it is.

Notes for Amouage Honour Woman:
Top notes are coriander, pepper and rhuburb;
middle notes are carnation, jasmine, gardenia, tuberose and lily-of-the-valley;
base notes are vetiver, opoponax, amber, incense and leather.

Amouage Honour Man, composed by perfumer Nathalie Feisthauer is a decidedly spicy fragrance, with oriental-woody leanings. The intensity of its spicy top, a veritable plunge into the pepper shaker, is unsettling, grabbing you from both lapels and smacking down into submission. But oh, you want to discover what this tough story unfolds later on! Indeed, the pepper becomes almost oily, like the half smoky-half musty odour when you crack a mace, more than a tad resinous, thanks to elemi (a naturally pepper-like essence that compliments frankincense and enters into the blend of Eastern cencer incense mixes). The equally terpenic sides of this mix are soon embraced by the distinct green-rosy-camphor of geranium and blended woody notes of cedar, patchouli and vetiver, borrowing a slice of Amouage's Reflection. The cunning in Honour Man lies into presenting each note as a distinct pitch with sonorous timbre, yet also as unifying them into a chromatic scale that is heard like bass coming out from subwoofers in the larynx of some smoldering lion afar, coming closer and closer by the minute. In no way threatening, but impressive all the same, Honour Man should have lovers of Poivre Samarcande, Bang and Poivre 23 sniff appreciatively and try to unravel the complicated thread of its Eastern mythos for western men.

Notes for Amouage Honour Man:
Top notes are pink pepper and pepper;
middle notes are geranium, elemi and nutmeg;
base notes are vetiver, musk, patchouli, Virginia cedar, incense and tonka bean.

Eau de Parfum, 50ml for £120. Available at Harrods, Selfridges, Les Scenteurs and Amouage boutique, 14 Lowndes Street, SW1. Soon available stateside.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Amouage fragrance reviews and news

In the interests of full disclosure I tried the new scents via official samples sent by the company

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb: fragrance review

I sometimes wonder what would happen if the art of fragrance naming is asked to be, as the French would put it, en clair―to speak in plain language.

     ~by guest writer AlbertCAN

I am by no means chiding the mass launches, for niche brands wax lyrical, too. (Case in point: Serge Lutens Daim Blond ought to be Daim Abricot.) Viktor & Rolf’s latest masculine introduction, Spicebomb, could benefit from en clair. To spell out its proper name would probably look a great deal like this:

Une ‘grenade’ ambrée à la manière de Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille avec un peu de L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two

(An amber ‘grenade’ in the style of Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille with a little bit of L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two)

Of course, the ironic thing with the truthful title above is that a copyright infringement lawsuit would probably ensue, followed by the requisite injunctions and appeals. And how to fit the sentence above onto the bottle is beyond mysterious to me. So, no in a million years. Yet it is probably the most apt description of the scent one could find, for the similarities between the scents in question are uncanny.

Now one might notice that that I’ve put quotation marks on the word ‘grenade’, for although the campaign promises something explosive and daring Spicebomb is hardly so. In fact the bomb motif is really a hand-me-down from V&R popular franchise Flowerbomb (2005), more of tie-in for marketing integration purposes. It’s a handsome tobacco-infused amber dandy with a fair hint of spice, but hardly a bomb threat as suggested by model Sean O’Pry’s tease with the grenade safety pin.

The resemblance between Spicebomb and Tobacco Vanille is truly remarkable, although I wouldn’t call them Siamese twins. V&R Spicebomb opens with candied citruses—or so I call them since synthetic bergamot and grapefruit are tempered further with fruity pink peppers, giving the scent a suave, silken sheen. It’s on the sweet side, though short of the full-on dried-fruit effect found in Tom Ford’s opus. The bouquet is really ho-hum and plays second fiddle to the tobacco accord, which really asserts its dominance after a short introduction. The press-release lists the tobacco as the base note but it really acts front and centre like a heart note since the scent is so character driven, forming a very obvious alliance with vetiver and amber. Knowing Spicebomb’s creator, Olivier Polge, I would bet my money on the liberal use of ambroxan (and even some tonka bean) when forming the amber—and indeed that amber motif is evident in Dior Homme, another creation by O. Polge. The leather and elemi are there, too, although really upholsterings to create subtle dried fruit facets. On the other hand I would say Tobacco Vanille lacks the spicy edge, though it’s hardly a surprise when the name is Spicebomb—what comes with the subtle spice is the real surprise.

Tea is nowhere to be found in Spicebomb’s press release, but the smokiness found in L’Artisan Parfumeur Tea for Two (2000) is fairly evident in the drydown of Spicebomb. It’s by no mean literal, for there’s nothing transparent or soft about V&R, but the spiciness is there—a touch, really—once its presence is felt. To me it isn’t the main attraction, just there to keep things in good social order.

Thus given all the information above Spicebomb is an interesting breed: Considering V&R license is owned by L'Oréal, one of the more conservative cosmetic conglomerates out there, having a mass-market launch based on two niche offerings—with Tea for Tea being discontinued to boot—Spicebomb is a slick take on past creations, almost like a ready-to-wear referencing a Tom Ford couture. Yet does it really take a perfumer of Olivier Polge’s calibre to do such faithful reference? I honestly don’t have an answer to that, and I might have gotten a bottle if: 1) I didn’t have a small bottle of Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, which I have, and 2) If the bottle for Spicebomb were more sleek, as the tinted bottle looks a bit clumsy in person. Mind you, if I were given a small bottle I wouldn’t mind wearing it from time to time.* But I’m probably not detonating Spicebomb anytime soon.

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb is created by perfumer Olivier Polge and contain notes of bergamot, grapefruit, elemi, pink pepper, cinnamon, saffron, chilli, leather, tobacco and vetiver. The bottle is designed by Fabien Baron. My review is based on a free sample I received from a sales associate at The Bay, who was horrified by me using Dior Eau Sauvage and promptly quipped, “It’s really for old men, no?” (Thank goodness I’m not buying anything from her.)

*Read: This is not a hint. Do not consider buying me this as a present: and I’m not being ironic.

Acqua di Parma Collezione Murano: Christmas Holidays Gift Ideas

The silhouette of the small island is visible from Fondamenta Nuove to the open sea. Known as the “Isle of Glass”, Murano is famous the world over as the place of origin of beautiful glass objects and sculptures. A patchwork of workshops and furnaces spreading across the lagoon, where skilled masters work, blow, cut, and shape their unique masterpieces. The art of glass-blowing was developed in Venice in the year 1000. In 1291 furnaces were moved to Murano and since then the whole island has been dedicated to the glass-blowing art. In Murano, like nowhere else, Italian genius figured out a variety of techniques to draw different and fascinating shapes from glass.

With the Collezione Murano, Acqua di Parma launches a new form of multi-sensory design: combining the famous art of Venetian glass-blowing with 3 ambient fragrances in double-poured wax.

LINDEN TREES  FROM  GARDENS  BY THE WATER
The bright and floral notes of the linden tree spread through the air and seem to unveil the thousand secret gardens concealed among the canals and buildings in Venice. A city within the city, pervaded with green, flowers, and perfumes. A fragrance full of light, enriched with sweet honey and elegant sandal wood.

MAHOGANY FROM THE MARITIME REPUBLIC
The flame fluctuates gently, meanwhile the deep embracing notes of mahogany are perceived, blended with the energizing accents of vetiver and the resinous ones of elemi. These are the warm and intense scents of one of the wood varieties used by Venetian craftsmen to make the famous gondolas, which was also used in the past to build the huge vessels sailing towards the East.

THE TONKA OF VENETIAN SPICE MERCHANTS
A fragrance diffusing the soft notes of tonka. A scent inspired by the splendor of  Venice, the ancient exchange and trade venue. A maze of bazaars and small shops, a crossroads of travelers and merchants that brought treasures from all over the world. Dive into the past with a voluptuous fragrance, which blends tonka with caressing vanilla, spicy clove accents and vibrant ginger notes.

More info & purchase: www.acquadiparma.com

Twin Peaks: L'Eau Froide by Lutens and Passage d'Enfer by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Monastic, cool, ethereal? In many ways L'Eau Froide is anti-Lutens, whereas Passage d'Enfer is L'Artisan Parfumeur down to the most minuscule detail. Though both brands are pioneers of niche, as Now Smell This notes they're a "study in contrasts". The Byzantine plot of a typical Serge Lutens is bringing the exotica of the Moroccan souk into a 19th century aesthete's dream sequence and from there into an urbanite's esoteric scent collection. L'Artisan on the other hand approaches perfumery via a luminous, refined, transparent approach as championed by founder Jean Laporte and perfumers Jean Claude Ellena, Olivia Giacobetti, Anne Flipo and Betrand Duchaufour. Even the ambers in the L'Artisan line are diaphanous instead of thick whereas their woody and "green" fragrances smell the way psithurism sounds.

via birdytg.blogspot.com

And yet...Inhale the icy ringing air coming from the thundra filling your lungs. Feel the chill of cold water in a silver-tiled pool where you anticipated warmth. Remember the surprising burning sensation on your tongue upon munching an ice cube against the hardness of adamantine. Feel the wet, clean feel of stones in a brook. And imagine a kiss from dead lips... If De Profundis aimed to capture the scent of death, the cold tentacles of a serene end to all can be felt in L'Eau Froide, from the pristine white-lined coffin to earth's cool embrace. I personally find this philosophical attitude to mortality very peaceful and cleasing to the mind. And not totally antithetical to the ethos of Lutens, come to think of it.

The terpenic, bright side of Somalian frankincense (reminiscent of crushed pine needles) is given prominence in Passage d'Enfer, much like in the Lutens 'eau' which unfolds the terpenes after a fresh mint start; this exhibits a hint of pepperiness (could it be elemi, another resin?) giving a trigeminal nerve twist. The effect is dry and very clean indeed (but unlike the screechy aldehydic soapiness & ironing starch of the first L'Eau), with a lemony, bitter orange rind note that projects as resinous rather than fruity and a projection and sillage that are surprising for something so ghostly, so ethereal, so evanescent. It's the scrubbing mitt of a monastery in the southern coastline, rather than the standard aquatic full of synthetic molecules dihydromyrcenol and Calone coming out of the cubicle in an urban farm. 

Still this aesthetic is something with which the average perfumista hasn't come to terms with yet; it will probably take a whole generation to reconcile perfumephiles with "clean" after the horros that have befallen them in the vogue for non-perfume-perfumes in the last 20 years. I'm hopeful. After all being a perfumista means challenging your horizons, right?

Notes for L'Eau Froide (2012): olibanum, sea water, musk, vetiver, mint, incense, pepper and ginger
Notes for Passage d'Enfer (1999): lily, incense, woodsy notes and musk.

Both are available through niche distributors at more or less comparative price-points.

Mathilde Laurent Responds to Perfume Shrine's Questions (& a little on Cartier Les Heures du Parfum)

Most of you are familiar with Mathilde Laurent through her early work at Guerlain, when as a young graduate of ISIPCA, under the aegis of Jean Paul Guerlain she created her modern epics, faithful to the patrimony of papa Jacques: Her Guet Apens (later re-issued as Attrape Coeur, the whole entangled story can be read on this link) is one of the most celebrated "new Guerlains" among cognoscenti, in the degree that it reflects a true Guerlain character, yet is resolutely of its own era.

Her Shalimar Eau Légère, reviewed and cherised on these pages, is another one which takes the best of tradition and injects it with the saturated hues and bold lines of a contemporary Francis Bacon painting. Like her artistic idol Camille Claudel ~as divulged to Marian Bendeth on a Basenotes project last year~ Mathilde appreciates modernity coupled with sensitivity and creativity.
Pamplelune with its sunny grapefruit side is, surprisingly enough for its daring sulfurous mien, still a Guerlain best-seller and one of two Aqua Allegorias (a sub-line in the Guerlain portfolio with lighter, less complex scents) which has remained in production ever since introduction of the line, the other being Herba Fresca with its surprising take on mint. (Her other creations in the Aqua Allegoria line included Ylang et Vanille and Rosa Magnifica) At some point, Mathilde Laurent left Guerlain to spread her wings unto greener pastures, including a brief stint at jeweler André Gas in 2006 (for the Polynesian tropical scent Ensoleille-Moi) and the current in-house perfumer position at the venerable Cartier headquarters, where she is composing bespoke scents (Sources place the price for juice to last 3-5 years up to 60,000 euros or $75,500). Her masculine, (again) mint-ladden Roadster for the mainstream jewellery house release last year has graced our pages and was considered a successful entry, poised most wisely between commerciability and artistic merit. Mathilde's talent is undisputed, her desire and ambition to compliment the art of perfumery with a decisive and landmarking contribution nevertheless is laudable. For her "perfume is a message, an expression of oneself" and a perfumer is "a sillagiste!"

I took the invitation that Elisa de Feydeau kindly opened for her francophone readers and asked Mathilde a couple of questions which she was most gracious to reply to. For the benefit of our English-speaking readers, here are her answers.

My first question had to do with something I had read in Perfumes, the Guide, a quote by Luca Turin in his Pamplelune review, in which he equated Laurent's turning to bespoke perfumery to "the saddest waste of human talent since Rimbaud decided to study engineering" (If this isn't praise, I don't know what is!). I was wondering whether the foreboding feeling created by this remark in my mind had come to a reversal through the new line Les Heures du Parfum for Cartier (a high-end project more on which below) and whether she was hopeful that the new line would open a dialogue between herself and perfume lovers; those Others beyond the scope of the mega-rich who have the means to order their very own perfume. After all, as revealed by Jean Claude Ellena to us before, custom perfumery runs the risk of inadvertdly "deceiving" the customer.

Mathilde Laurent herself had explained the bespoke process in the past in very clear terms: "Together (with the client), we explore scents associated with meaningful life experiences, from pleasant childhood recollections to a present image the client wishes to project. We transpose the Cartier style, a perfectly studied simplicity, into the scent. Just a few carefully selected high-grade ingredients are blended, so that each essence remains distinctive, not lost in a hazy combination." In the pursuit of good materials, she's relentless: "I look for the truly exceptional, the atypical, the never-before-seen" (The floral extracts used cost about $5,000 per kilogram, or $142 per ounce). "The provenance of the flower, its rarity where it was bred, the manner of extracting its essence, the climatic conditions that year, all are taken into account."
In hindsight Mathilde appreciates Luca Turin's accolades enormously: "He was among the first to support me and encourage me". She terms the bespoke service "a step, a detour in order to get someplace else". "I could never imagine not creating for The Others", she reveals, although she's quick to point out that "bespoke perfumery is for me a wonderful means to be close to those who love and wear perfume and to push the envelope regarding experimentation on new accords, to test and increase one's creativity and one's technique. Bespoke perfumery acts as a complimentary course for me, it nourishes my work on other projects. I hope that Cartier's Les Heures du Parfum will generate a dialogue with people wearing them, since for me perfume is a message that the skin diffuses, I am always interested in expression, perfume is always destined for the Other".

Another issue that is burning perfume lovers and the industry itself with the intensity of a surgical laser is the pressing issue of restrictions on perfumery ingredients. (You can read a recap and personal thoughts with a minimum of emotional sidekicks on this link and on that one). Mathilde Laurent proved to me to be both practical and wise: "Regarding the perfumery materials which are restricted from our palette, I pretend they never existed. Nevertheless, I continue to search for the effect they present, even though it might be considered a tad Utopian; to substitute with other ingredients and combinations. One must always start from scratch and search, search...Having "come of age" at Guerlain however {she started apprenticeship there at the tender age of 23, going to exotic places and learning about ingredients with the very best} I have intimately known all of those precious materials before they were rationed and their effect has most definitely marked me. I do keep them in memory, always!" Hopefully, with creative minds such as Mathilde's, even the parsimonious palette of essences that is left to perfumers can take a new shape and be utilized in a novel syntax that have been left unatttured till now. The future is here and it is brave!
As to her own pleasure, Mathilde has left herself to be seduced by her latest creation for Cartier XIII La Treizième Heure, a smoky leathery composition, even though she declares she never wears perfume on her free time (Her other rare ~she stresses~ indulgunce is Guet Apens). After all, she hopes to instigate a discourse, not a monologue, and I hope she will always succeed in doing that!

Les Heures du Parfum by Cartier are set to be 13 fragrances in the "neo-niche" mold of luxury brands such as Chanel Les Exclusifs, Hermessences, boutique Guerlain scents, Armani Prive, Van Cleef & Arpels etc. (material-oriented compositions, uniform bottles, limited distribution). Cartier touts them as 'one really haute collection of fragrances for connoisseurs' to commemorate . The scents take on Latin numbers instead of names to reflect the digits on the famous Cartier watches, plus a lucky number thirteen in honour of the number of la maison Cartier's first address at 13 Rue de la Paix in Paris. They are to be spaced out in a period of a few years. The first five are coming out this November on the 10th in 35 Cartier boutiques all around the world. Eau de Parfum in 75 ml flacons for 250 dollars (Chayaruchama told me they're already at Saks in New York City, so New Yorkers take note and report back!).

Fragrance Notes for Les Heures du Parfum according to Grain de Musc (who got them straight from the horse's mouth and is enthused):

I – L’Heure Promise (The promised hour): a green iris with petitgrain, fresh herbs, sandalwood and musk.
VI – L’Heure Brillante (The shining hour): a bright aldehydic citrus cocktail with lemon, lime and a gin accord. X – L’Heure Folle (The crazy hour): an aldehydic fruity green with redcurrant, pink pepper, grenadine (pomegranate syrup), blueberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, violet, leafy notes, ivy, boxwood, shiso, polygonum (=knotweed)
XII – L’Heure Mystérieuse (The mysterious hour): a woody floral with jasmine, patchouli, elemi, coriander, incense, olibanum, juniper.
XIII -La Treizième Heure (The 13th hour): a sweet leather with maté tea, birch tar, narcissus, bergamot, patchouli and vanilla.

Portrait of Mathilde Laurent via Basenotes, images4.hiboox.com and luxuryculture, Cartier bottles via punmiris.com

Twin Peaks: Hermes Poivre Samarcande & Marc Jacobs Bang reviews

In the secrecy-laced world of perfumery it's not unusual to have the same idea colonise several brands. Sometimes it happens through the same "nose" (perfumer), such as Anne Flipo for Rykiel Woman and Barbara Bui Le Parfum or Maurice Roucel working for Musc Ravageur as well as L de Lempicka). Other times, because it's the direction dictated by a new material such as the ubiquitousness of oud (Rose Oud by Kilian, Oud Leather by Dior) or Ambroxan lately (Another 13 and Baie Rose 26, Not a Perfume by Juliette Has a Gun). Or it's a new technique; take the novel method of maceration of iris root for only a few weeks instead of three years resulting in a pleiad of niche iris scents 3-4 years ago. Added to that is also the reason of marketing: A new sector opened by a pioneer is exploited by other brands later on, even by home fragrances and functional products (this is called "trickle down" in industry speak). The point of Twin Peaks series on Perfume Shrine is exactly that: to pinpoint fragrances that are smell-alikes and delineate the reasons and hows of their resemblances.
Which brings us nicely to Poivre Samarcande by the exclusive boutique line of Hermès and Bang by Marc Jacobs which circulates in the department store circuit. Smell the two though and you can see there are less of six degrees of seperation between them.

Poivre Samarcande came at a time when Jean Claude Ellena was busy populating the -at the time- novel concept of boutique exclusive fragrances, the Hermessences (The original quartet which was sold in 2005 included also Rose Ikebana, Ambre Narguilé and Vétiver Tonka). It must have felt especially validating to have everyone follow, from Chanel down to Cartier and Dior La Collection and produce "exclusive" collections in a niche manner of presentation and concept (focus on raw materials, identical bottles, limited distribution, star perfumer working for them). Poivre Samarkande was in many ways a pioneer because it was incorporated into Jean Claude's experimentation with Iso E Super started with Déclaration, which he overdosed in the Hermès scent in order to boost the effect of an airy pepper accord, which although spicy is transliterated like a wood thanks to the boost of cedar, oak and patchouli notes. In actuality it's the Iso E Super which underpins the spices, making them shine and feel cool and silky, projecting in a linear manner. The unisex effect alongside its peculiar feel good, feel non-perfumey character has made it a soaring success. It was only natural the great idea would be perpetuated. Enter Marc Jacobs.


Bang is Marc Jacob's latest foray into perfume, coming out in July 2010. His line of scents is well thought out, but without presenting much of an excitement to the hearts of dedicated niche perfumery consumers. The scents simply read as a tad too "safe" to present the much coveted challenge we seek. However, their execution is usually very good, from the bright and happy Daisy to the snuggly but light powder of Amber Splash. Bang is no different: It takes its central leitmotif from someplace else, but the result isn't a total bore, probably because the original idea was an intelligent one to begin with and someone was wise enough not to muck with it too much. Bang was created for a “contemporary guy, who, even if he isn’t young, has a younger spirit.” Jacobs created the name first and development of the composition in cooperation with Coty followed. “I wanted to do something that I would love” said Jacobs. “I particularly like spice notes, especially pepper, so that became a starting place.”
Bang was art-directed by the revered veteran Ann Gottlieb who requested such notes as black, white and pink pepper, alongside masculine woody notes (Iso E Super and ambrox for you), while the base includes elemi resin (in itself having a peppery aroma), benzoin (a sweeter resin), vetiver, "white moss" (a patented IFF accord that was introduced in Jasmine White Moss in Estée Lauder's Private Collection line) and patchouli. The scent has a vibe of a metrosexual preening in front of a black-tiled bathroom mirror, so I would most enjoy smelling it on someone unexpected. Preferably a woman.

The two scents smell quite alike, Bang being a bit sweeter and with more pronounced vetiver and watered down in the lasting power stakes (to the point of annoying), but it's the optical differences which stuck in one's mind: On the one hand a refined and sparse representation of a leather-clad bottle, on the other a slicked-up Marc posing with the (impressively designed) bottle between his bare legs. Take your pick according to your aesthetics and wallet.

Crazy Libellule and the Poppies Les Garconnes: new fragrances

Crazylibellule and The Poppies, the company that brought out those cute solid perfumes in carton cases like lipstick is launching a new set of solid perfumes this July, also encased in similar packaging. The new line is an homage to fabulous ladies of the Roaring 20s, thus nicknamed Les Garçonnes (after the novel La Garçonne which ignited the "flapper" vogue). Although I would not venture to call them "proper perfume", they do present a fun and cute way of carrying around a scented little something in your bag without the risk of spilling or staining and their Encens Mystic was even worthy of being featured in my Incense Series, so it's got some pulling potential to be sure! And at $16.00 for 5gr they're very inexpensive.
"The freedom of the 1920's is the inspiration behind the universe of the brand’s new collection "Les Garçonnes". A modern ode to femininity and audacity and a few grammes of sensuality, these seven creations pay homage to the independent, seductive and positive women who changed their era: Joséphine, Gabrielle, Louise, Tamara, Jeanne, Rose and Pompon. Famous or beautiful strangers? Can you guess who they are?" (via press release)

The new Les Garconnes line from Crazy Libellule and the Poppies will include:

*Chère Louise ~ notes of hyacinth, rose, pepper, iris, saffron, patchouli and gaiac wood.

*Hommage à Gabrielle ~ notes of jasmine, peony, ozonic flower, cedar, incense, leather, vanilla and elemi.

*Pompon Gardenia ~ notes of lime, watermelon, lily of the valley, gardenia, amber, tobacco and heliotrope.

*Rose à Saïgon ~ notes of mango, rose, jasmine, gaiac wood, ylang ylang, passion fruit, vetiver and patchouli.

*Jeanne Voyage ~ notes of bergamot, mandarin, iris, musk, violet leaves, nutmeg, heliotrope, amber and rose.

*Joséphine Jonquille ~ notes of lemon, ginger, cardamom, tiare, jonquil, jasmine, patchouli and chocolate.

*Tamara Charleston ~ notes of peach, mandarin, fresh cut hay, absinthe, jasmine, lisylang (molecule by Robertet), gardenia and amber.

Check out the brand on the official Crazy Libelllule and the Poppies site. Available at Beautyhabit and B-glowing in the US.

Olivier Durbano Turquoise: new fragrance & musings on gems

I gaze upon my small collection of turquoise jewels as soon as the weather warms up with the contemplation of someone who has been wearing the gemstone fully aware of its superstitious nature. In my culture turquoise is said to protect against the evil eye. But its vividness of hue, which is so well brought out in the warmth of the summer, is also thought to be indicative of the wearer's health: losing its luster in illness and in death, yet regaining its original richness in the hands of a new, healthy owner!
In the 3rd century, it was believed to protect against falling off a horse, to attract poisons, heal the eyes and aid against bites from snakes and scorpions. Changes in its shade indicated the infidelity of a wife. Arabian writings claimed "The turquoise shines when the air is pure and becomes pale when it is dim." (12th century AD) A gemstone truly immersed in legend!

Olivier Durbano, architect and jewellery designer, has created the line Parfums de Pierres Poèmes, liquid poems that interpret the magic of gemstones into fizzying emitions on the skin. After Tourmaline Noire, Amethyste, Cristal Rock, Jade, which took olfactory life thanks to tea, incense, jasmine and amber, now Turquoise joins the small and elegant line with a fragrance in the corresponding pastel greenish-blue hue of the semi-precious gemstone.

Turquoise, a hydrous phosphate of copper and aluminium, has been prized for its beautiful intensity of shade and rich, opaque feel since antiquity. It has adorned rulers of Ancient Egypt, the Aztecs, Persian and Mesopotamian priests and kings, and to some extent it has been also used in ancient China since at least the Shang Dynasty. In Egypt the first proof of use dates to the First Dynasty (3100-2890 BC), culminating into the iconic Tutankhamun's burial mask, but allegedly even prior to that turquoise was prized by the Egyptians and therefore mined in the Sinai Peninsula, called "Country of Turquoise" by the native Monitu. Etymologically the word derives from the 16th century French, either denoting Turkish origin (turquois) or evoking dark-blue stone (pierre turquin). However the best and highest-grade turquoise (a uniform robin egg's blue) always came from Persia/Iran, brought to Europe via the Silk Route and the writings of Marco Polo. But the beauty of the stone, heavily traded in Turkish bazaars and lovingly capturing the wonderful colour of the Mediterranean Sea of the Turkish coasts ~which inspired the Seljuks to adorn their abodes and homes with decorative tiles in these sunny shades~ might have accounted for the misattribution. In the words of Gubelin: " "This misnomer is readily explained by the fact that the first stones did not reach Europe directly from Persia [i.e., Iran], but rather through the intercession of seafaring Venetians who purchased them at Turkish bazaars." [1]
The deposits of California and New Mexico were mined by pre-Columbian Native Americans using stone tools and the stone is ingrained into their cultural and philosophical beliefs resulting in ceremonial jewellery and masks of astonishing ~and sometimes disturbing~ designs. The Apache Indians believed turquoise to combine the spirits of both sea and the sky, while the Navajo attributed to it qualities of an ex caelis fallen stone (a gem fallen from heavens). The Zunis of North America thought the blue of the sky represents light from their "spirit bird" reflected from the top of a mountain of turquoise. However, in an opposite sense other Native Americans of the southwestern United States region are said to have thought turquoise so-to-speak stole its color from the sky.

All these thoughts come to me as I contemplate how Olivier Durbano will interpret turquoise into what seems like a woody-ozonic fragrance with accents of incense like the rest of his line. The "mineral" quality of fragrances usually relies on synthesized materials, such as quinolines, aldehydes, and certain synthetic musks. [2] But in Olivier Durbano's Turquoise, the notes indicate a fragrance which evokes the milieu in which turquoise shines best, the cool azure of the sea and the warm tint of a clear summery sky. So the experiment is exciting to anticipate.
Gemstones and jewels have been nothing new to perfumery as a baptism concept, from the groundbreaking Emeraude by Coty and little-known vintage Blue Sapphire by Lynette New York, through the Elizabth Taylor commemorative collection and Paco Rabanne's aptly named Liquid Crystal, right up to Gem and Birmane (evoking rubies)by Van Cleef & Arpels (jewellers themselves). Lately many fragrances re-immersed themselves into the luxurious aspect that gems give: The Durbano line of course, some from Avon, Lalique Amethyst, Jette Joop Dark Sapphire, the Bulgari Omnia line (Améthyste, Green Jade, Crystalline), Versace Bright Crystal, the Sage Machado line, the Armani Privé line (with Pierre de Lune, Cuir Améthyste, Eau de Jade), Patricia de Nicolai Eau Turquoise, all the way to Lauder's Emerald Dream and the completely unknown (and dubious?) to me Aqua Sapphire by Guerlain.
No one can resist a little glimpse of bling-bling it seems!


Turquoise by Olivier Durbano features the following notes:
Head notes: Maritime pine resin, roseberry, elemi, Somalian incense, coriander, juniper
Heart notes: Alga fucus (seaweed), lily, fragrant reed, lotus blossom
Base notes: Everlasting Flower/Immortelle/Helycrisum, honey, myrrh wood, ambergris

[1]Link

[2]Jean Claude Ellena classification

Serge Lutens L'Orpheline: fragrance review & sample draw

Much like the mysterious (and incestuous) half-sister in Leos Carax's  radical adaptation of Melville's Pierre: or, the Ambiguities (1852) in "Pola X", the specter of the missing family member being visited while in almost somnambulist state, L'orpheline (the orphan girl), the latest Serge Lutens fragrance, becomes "un visage….sans age…une souffle, une presence" (a face…ageless…a breath, a presence) which disrupts the flow of a seemingly smooth, luxurious life with its secret of a tormented and deprived past. And again much like the play of light & darkness throughout the film by Leos, L'orpheline presents a play between the cool and warm register, between madness creeping underneath love, and between comfort emerging where you least expect it. Like Pierre, Lutens, you see, views himself as an artist in love with reckless gestures, only thankfully his charm lies not in any thorough immaturity. On the contrary, he has revealed intimate, personal stuff to us with the maturity that comes from acceptance.

Serge presents the new perfume in these words written in a vertical sequence: " Friable mais entière.À demi-mot, son nom se fêle. Avant la brisure, les deux premières syllabes portent le nom du poète qui même pouvait charmer les pierres. " Lutens of course winks at Orpheus, the legendary Greek poet and prophet who charmed every being with his music and tried to retrieve his wife, Eurydice, from the dead by way of his skills, only to meet with his own death from those who could not hear his divine music…which ties with the cryptic text he has written on L'Incendiaire, his other fragrant release, in a new "golden line", announced here a while ago. How's that for two shots with one stone?

Does Serge try to bring back his repressed beloved, his mother, a small bit at a time, with each of his fragrances? Possibly. Lutens is a grown Remi (after Malot's "Sans famille"), on a journey of the roads of France, on a journey of the roads of perfume. And like Carax or Rivette or any master of that school, he certainly takes his time into letting us share his journey.
The poetic concept of the "orphan", "fragile but whole" (this is a French expression that really loses in the translation), is inspired by Lutens's own childhood, "of ashes" and rage, his painful memories of being raised without a mother and abandoned by his father, though the change of sex in the fragrance name suggests a Freudian transposition regarding the significance of the Father (as suggested by Lutens himself). He conflates the male with pain ("le Mâle : le mal"), an Oedipal symbolism that doesn't go amiss. Nor is it intended to.

For this coolish and quiet fragrance (sequentially warmish, like Gris Clair) named  L'Orpheline, Lutens and his sidekick perfumer Chris Sheldrake focus on incense notes, not as cold and soapy as in L'Eau Froide, neither as spicy warm and shady as in Serge Noire, but somewhere in between; entre chien et loup, between daylight and darkness. Frankincense, the impression of bittersweet myrrh and peppery-acrid (elemi? cumin? ginger?) rather than clove-y carnation notes seem to rise, a cross between spirituality and carnality? Lutens knows how to marry contradictions and swath the opulence of orientalia into Parisian refinement. The spicy note in the heart reminds me of a mix between mace and cumin, reminiscent of both Secret Obsession (the now discontinued Calvin Klein fragrance) and a lighter Serge Noire by Lutens.

Yet the end result in L'Orpheline is apart; neither a true Moroccan oriental like hardcore Serge fans have built an online cult out of, nor a classically French perfume for the salon, but a mysterious, vaporous emanation "between the storm and clear skies", between the ashes of the past and the uncertainty of the future, a Delacroix painting, a dwindling match leaving embers behind. The peppery accent on the incense reminds me of the treatment of carnations in Oeillet Bengale (one of the best releases of the year so far) while the musky underlay is soft, subtle, meditative and not entirely without a certain poignancy.

L'Orpheline would suit anyone who like Pierre "had been waiting for something", regardless of their sex. Haven't we all?

L'Orpheline is an haute concentration fragrance, meaning more concentrated than the beige label ones, belonging in the "black line" of the so called "export range" by Serge Lutens. It will retail at 99 euros for 50ml, is already at the Palais Royal and eboutique and will be widely launched internationally on September 1st.

One sample out of my own decant to a lucky reader commenting below. Draw is open till Sunday midnight.

Serge Lutens L'Eau Froide: fragrance review & draw

Inhale the icy ringing air coming from the thundra filling your lungs. Feel the chill of cold water in a silver-tiled pool where you anticipated warmth. Remember the surprising burning sensation on your tongue upon munching an ice cube against the hardness of adamantine. Feel the wet, clean feel of stones in a brook. And imagine a kiss from dead lips...
If De Profundis aimed to capture the scent of death, the cold tentacles of a serene end to all can be felt in L'Eau Froide, from the pristine white-lined coffin to earth's cool embrace. I personally find this philosophical attitude to mortality very peaceful and cleasing to the mind.

Icy, you say? 
The bottle and the box of L'eau Froide are inscribed with iterations of coldness...cold, icy cold, frosted, transparent, crystalline, calm, ice salt, large glass of water...

Cold? Yes, it is. But very pleasantly so.

I'm a firm believer in the cooling properties of unadulterated frankincense, the kind at the heart of L'Eau Froide, which I burn regularly: After all, the raw material shares terpenic, citrusy top notes in itself, which dissipate and volatilise quickly rendering that cool smoky ambience we associate with stone temples of old. But amongst fumeheads of northern latitudes, removed from the warmth & sun of the Mediterranean where frankincense use flourished, ‘frosty’ and ‘glacial’ are not adjectives we tend to associate with incense (rather pyrocaustic is, although on Perfume Shrine we have devoted a whole series to different   varieties and  nuances of incense fragrances). Nor is the association of niche orientals ~where incense notes are the bread & butter of perfumers fast becoming rock stars. But frankincense/olibanum, the par excellence incense note, is indeed cool: it can become very smoky and dense when in high concentration, but the more you dilute it the more it gains lemony, fresh facets that inspire deep breathing, the cleansing kind.

Serge’s press upon this newest fragrance is probably what matters anyway: ‘People only notice the pyrogen facet in smoky incense burners… but not the coolness, except for the church’s."

Inspirations
Before we jump into conclusions in how the maestro is doing atypical work, fandom-alienating possibly as in his first L'Eau,  let's remember, Serge Lutens is no stranger to cool incense in his impressive line already: Encens & Lavande takes on the ashen facets of lavender-nuanced smoke, while Serge Noire is the spicy, warm & cool contrast of meditation. Nor is he a stranger to gothic coldness itself: from the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" hard-as-nails menthol blast opening in Tubereuse Criminelle, to the perverse aloofness of Bas de Soie and the lavender-tinged greyness of Gris Clair, all the way to the bluish, dead lips of Iris Silver Mist... L'Eau Froide comes as the natural evolution of spermatic ideas in all these fragrances: the herbaceous top note that cools the sinuses, the chilling dampness, the resinous incense, the clean underbelly...

But we could be short-sighted if we didn't consider fragrances with a semblance outside the Lutens seraglio too: What L'Eau Froide reminds me most of is one of my favourite summer incense waters: Passage d'Enfer, composed by Olivia Giacobetti for L'Artisan Parfumeur. I must have gone through crates of it...
The terpenic, bright side of Somalian frankincense (reminiscent of crushed pine needles) is given prominence in Passage d'Enfer, much like in the Lutens 'eau' which unfolds the terpenes after a fresh mint start; this exhibits a hint of pepperiness (could it be elemi, another resin?) giving a trigeminal nerve twist. The effect is dry and very clean indeed (but unlike the screechy aldehydic soapiness & ironing starch of the first L'Eau), with a lemony, bitter orange rind note that projects as resinous rather than fruity and a projection and sillage that are surprising for something so ghostly, so ethereal, so evanescent.

It's the scrubbing mitt of a monastery in the southern coastline, rather than the standard aquatic full of dihydromyrcenol and Calone coming out of the cubicle in an urban farm. Still this aesthetic is something with which the average perfumista hasn't come to terms with yet; it will probably take a whole generation to reconcile perfumephiles with "clean" after the horros that have befallen them in the vogue for non-perfume-perfumes in the last 20 years. I'm hopeful. After all being a perfumista means challenging your horizons, right?
The little human warmth in the deep drydown of the new Lutens comes from the refined, vegetal musks that hide in Voyage d'Hermès or Goutal's Musk Nomade (ambrette seed); eschewing too sweet and powdery for a slightly bitter, metallic edge reminiscent of the iron in blood. The whole projects with a mineral quality, like cool peebles at the foot of a lemon tree.

Who will like L'Eau Froide and who will not

Incense accolytes who appreciate the monastic qualities of Tauer's Incense Extrême, the coolness & pine of Zagorsk and the white lily whiteness of Passage d'Enfer are the prime target of L'Eau Froide.
So are those who like Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Voyage d'Hermès. I think L'Eau Froide will be more popular with men than with women who view this dry mineral facet as emasculating.
The cool customers of Chanel No.19 (especially the eau de toilette which is rich in vetiver) and Paco Rabanne's Calandre, as well as YSL Rive Gauche for women, might also be satisfied with the silvery sheen of this Lutens fragrance. If on the other hand you prefer for your incense fix the densely oriental mixes like Caron's Parfum Sacré, the rich balsamic formulae like Ormonde Jayne Tolu, and the sophisticated smoky warmth of Hotel Costes, you would be totally disappointed. Then  again you might be an omnivore, like me.
It's of note that no comparison can be effectively made with Etro's Messe de Minuit: Whereas the Etro is a chameleon, smelling in varying degrees of warm or cool according to your GPS positioning when wearing it, the Lutens is a la la la constant tune that doesn't waver much. 

Will I wear it? 
I was somewhat confused with last year's Lutens De Profundis and Vitriol d'Oeillet. Though arguably not the height of originality, I see myself dousing myself with L'Eau Froide each time I want to feel that chill on the small of my back that denotes either solace from a heatwave Med-style, or the exciting but safe thrill of peeking within the crypt when demons are hiding low on a snowy winter's day.

L’Eau Froide, a clear eau de parfum concentration of fragrance sees his previous L'Eau Serge Lutens joined by a similar-looking bottle. (1.7oz/50ml and 3.4 oz./100ml, 69 and 100 euros respectively at select doors stocking Lutens fragrances from March 2012).

For our readers an advance sample sprayer is offered. Please tell us your incense memories, if you have any. 
Draw is open till Sunday 26th midnight.

pic of the Dead Sea via english.al-akhbar.com 

Frequent Questions: Differences Between the Hermes Merveilles Perfume Editions, Flankers & Limited Editions (With Photos)

Among perfumes with several confusing similarly-named editions there are a few. You can check PerfumeShrine's previous entries on the different flankers/perfume editions of Dior Poisons, the many flankers/limited editions of Dior best-seller J'Adore, the various reformulations/repackaging of Miss Dior Cherie, the super confusing group of fragrance editions by Rodriguez Narciso For Her with their differences highlighted, the Etro Via Verri original and reformulated editions, the Shiseido Zen perfume editions ...and there's surely going to be more!
Today I'm going to offer an illustrated guide to sort out the confusion attested regarding one fragrance among those with a dedicated cult following: Eau de Merveilles and its by now many flankers and limited editions issued by the venerable house of Hermès.

Timeline, Info and Notes for Different Hermès "Merveilles" Fragrance Editions with pics: 

Eau de Merveilles (2004) 
Pefumers: Ralf Schwieger and Nathalie Feisthauer
Eau de Toilette concentration
Notes: ambergris, pink pepper, violet, fir, oakmoss, orange, lemon, cedar, elemi, Madagascar vetiver

The main theme of this truly original fragrance, this "water of wonders", and the reason it's a deserved cult is the orange-shaded ambergris salty impression of skin, resolutely non-floral for a marketed to women fragrance (although perfectly unisex in all practical purposes!) and "natural" smelling in its overall impression, negating the notion that the person wearing it is wearing a perfume.
Technically speaking the intriguing thing is Eau de Merveilles collapses the traditional pyramidal structure entirely, as all the woody-musky notes are on top, rather than the base of the fragrance, getting the ambergris note upfront in large print.

Parfum des Merveilles  (2005)
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Extrait de Parfum concentration
Notes: Oak, patchouli, mosses, amber, Peru balsam, tears of Siam, Davaba, Cognac note, leaves, roots
A concentrated composition with more intense resinous ingredients which Jean Claude Ellena worked on while the original was selling its first bottles.

Parfum des Merveilles (2006)
Limited edition of the Parfum des Merveilles of 2005 extrait de parfum in Saint-Louis blue crystal (same juice)
Extrait de Parfum concentration

Elixir des Merveilles (2006) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration
Notes: Peru balsam, vanilla sugar, amber, sandalwood, tonka bean, patchouli, siam resin, caramel, oak, incense, orange peel and cedar.

Hermes Elixir des Merveilles is a quite different formula rather than just an EDP concentration of the original Eau de Merveilles, focusing on more resinous chypre elements highlighted rather than the ambergris woody notes of the EDT version. It is succulent, warmer and less salty than the original and relatively tenacious. 

Eau de Merveilles Constellation (2006) 
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottles features an etched illustration of the classic chariot of the house under a star constellation.

Eau de Merveilles Pegase (2007)
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features an illustration of the flying horse Pegasus from the Greek mythology.

Eau Claire des Merveilles (autumn 2010) 
Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena
Eau de Parfum concentration

This new interpretation of the "magical water" boasts  airy notes alongside the sophisticated woody notes and warm ambergris of the original. It incorporates powdery soft vanilla, airy notes and for the first time a few abstract floral notes to give a luminous character. The overall impression of Eau Claire des Merveilles is of a musky vanilla scent with softly powdery ambience. 

Eau de Merveilles Au Bal des Etoiles (February 2012) [i.e. Ball of the Stars]
Limited edition of the original formula of Eau de Merveilles of 2004 (same juice)
Eau de Toilette concentration
The bottle features a "dragonfly fairy" design by illustrator Alice Charbin.

L'Ambre des Merveilles (summer 2012)

Perfumer: Jean-Claude Ellena

Eau de Parfum concentration

Notes: amber, labdanum, patchouli and vanilla.

The emphasis on L'Ambre des Merveilles is on the classical ingredient used to render an "amber" base blend: labdanum with all its leathery-sweet-intimate aspects in place. 

All the bottles in the Hermes Merveilles series routinely come in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz sizes, with the occasional 15ml/0.5oz travel size issued (same as the Hermessences coffret shape and size) except for the parfum and limited edition bottles, of course.

pics via fragrantica.com and basenotes.net