Narcissus Enfleurage

My narcissi finally bloomed but there are very few of them (still better than last year, when there were non!).
Here is a handful of pics to show you the process of my single-charge Narcissus tazetta (Chinese Sacred Lily) vegan enfleurage process. Wish me luck!

The Decision

The beautiful thing about deadlines, is that they force you to make a decision. Even deadlines that are imposed by oneself. I wanted to have Narkiss ready in time for Channukah, because that is the time of the year when the narcissi are in bloom in Israel.

I won't pretend it was the hardest decision of my life. Like many other times, I realized at the end of the process that my original concept was really IT. But it was too expensive to create in larger quantities. I had the concept for Narkiss going on for way too long to make it end up as a limited edition, sold only to a handful of curiouis perfumistas. I had bigger dreams for it becoming part of my steady collection - and even design a unique label for it, as part of The Language of Flowers collection.

It boiled down to 2 options. The difficulty was that I really liked both mod 07 and mod 08. Mod 7 started off a little sour, but quite realistically like a pine forest after rain, with that powdery flower lingering in the air. Admittedly, it was quite coumarine-y and green at first, and easily perceived as masculine. When it dried down, it turned into this gorgeous, pine needle and wood aroma - fresh yet deep, woody yet tart. I just adored it.



The 8th mod was very similar to the first idea I had created way back in 2007. I liked it a lot, almost as I did the original. But I didn't like the dry down as much as the 7th version. I had to make a decision and make it fast... And for that sometimes you need an extra set of nostrils. I asked my friend Jolanta to try both with me, just before the start of the Christmas at Hycroft show. She was a little like me, really pining for the 8th mod, but feeling that the 7th would be more popular. I agreed; but also thought out loud with her, saying how so many of my recent releases are not that different when it boils down to the dry down - woody fresh, kinda like Orcas. I felt like I needed to roll out something entirely new.

And that's how I decided on the 8th mod! So you see, in the end, it was worth wasting 6 bottles, countless essences, and many pages in my formulating books. And I truly hope that you'll enjoy my decision!

The Dilemma

With so many mods, the process can go on and on and on... It can be rather daunting at times: sniff this, compare it to that. Add a little bit more of this, and omit that. Does it smell right? Does it really make your nose want to sing? Does it smell unique and fabulous? Is there even a point of releasing something new - or am I just repeating myself and creating yet another white floral, or grassy, hay-like composition?



Composing is tedious, but also very meditative. Creative. Therapeutic, even. It's the analysis stage that can be the killer - I had so many options - the 6 rounds I told you about over the last couple of weeks were really more than that - they were 8 different formulae (or mods), and basically represented two if not three opposing concepts:
1) Retro, luscious floral with a bit of a dark, gloomy and pensieve personality and that is completely abstract.
2) Rainy, greeny winter scent that's supposed to realistically portray a real-life nature scenery (narcissus, puddles and pine forests).
3) Just go wild with narcissus absolute and make it truly shine, purely as a soliflore, with absolutely no regard to availability, expense or demand - which would inevitably create a very limited edition.

It was not the hardest decision of my life but let's say that there were at the end of it, 2 mods that I had to pick. It had to be either one or the other. The difficulty was that I really liked both mod 07 and mod 08.

Narkiss, Sixth Round

Here I waned to come back to the 6th mod (in round 4), in which the narcissus and coffee flower absolutes create a mysterious, dusky character. I wanted it to also be a very close replica of my first round (mods 1 & 2), in which I used essences I can't source again, or ones that have some issues (i.e.: the oakwood absolute contains a plasticizer). I looked for other woody substitutes and wanted to still create that unique, very retro warmth that is reminiscent of the great aldehydic florals of the turn of the century, yet with my own personal twist.

I ended up making full circle, as this round (AKA mod. 08) is truly a reflection of mod. 01, which I've created back in 2007). 

Base notes: Vegetal Musk Compound No. 3, Liatrix Absolute, Ambreine, Costus, Africa Stone, Pinewood

Heart notes: Narcissus Absolute, Coffee Flower Absolute, Orange Blossom Absolute, Orris CO2, Styrax

Top notes: Bergamot, Szechuan Pepper

Narcissus, Fifth Round

Like I mentioned in my last Narkiss post - I realized at this point in my process that I need to pick between one of two directions, and concepts. For the fifth round, I decided to focus on the puddle and mushroom concept.

Pairing down the puddle and mushroom, pine forest and break in the clouds imagery and sensory concept, to highlight the freshness even more. In this round I used pinewood, green spikenard, angelica CO2 and pine needle absolute along with pinemoss to create that Mediterranean pine grove feel, in all the winter wetness and rainy glory.

To that I added, of course, narcissus absolute with some supporting notes of balsam poplar buds, ylang ylang and jasmine for more floral presence, but still keeping it light and green. Top notes included cabreuva, to create an illusion of rain and wetness, and orris tincture for that wet soil, roots and violets after rain effect.

Base notes: Pinewood, Green Spikenard, Angelica CO2 and Pine Needle Absolute, Pinemoss

Heart notes: Narcissus Absolute, Jasmine Absolute, Balsam Poplar Buds Absolute

Top notes: Orris Tincture, Cabreuva, Szechuan Pepper CO2, Palmarosa
Ylang Ylang Extra, Bergamot

The result totally captured my heart. Although the narcissus is not so apparent in this one, it truly portrays the scenery of Mediterranean winter in the pine forest. Puddles, pine mushrooms picking, etc. My only reservation on releasing this mod was that it's echos too much the other fresh, woody underlined fragrances that I already offer in my collection, i.e. Orcas and Bon Zai.

Anatomy of a Flower

Narcissus is an elusive flower that has been possessing this perfumer's imagination for as long as could be. Vivid memories of the fresh wild flower begin with a folk song about picking narcissi in the fields, and encountering a white horse. The rhyme does not end too well.  

לַשָּׂדֶה יָצֹא יָצָאתִי
נַרְקִיסִים קָטַפְתִּי,
סוּס לָבָן רָאֹה רָאִיתִי
וְעָלָיו רָכַבְתִּי.

וְהַסּוֹס דָּהַר דָּהַר
וַאֲנִי נָפַלְתִּי,
וְאֶת כָּל הַנַּרְקִיסִים
בַּשָּׂדֶה הִשְׁאַרְתִּי.

Living wild narcissus flowers have an unusual scent, heady and intoxicating, both freshly green and white-floral in character. Native to the Mediterranean basin, these bulb flowers for Narcissus tazetta come to bloom in the late fall and wintertime, in different months depending on when the rainy season begins, and also depending on the particular habitat. It is grown commercially for perfumery, primarily in Southern France, where the method of enfleurage was discovered first to extract its precious aroma. Nowadays it is processed by solvent extraction, to produce an absolute. This particular type of narcissus is also referred to as "Narcisse des Montagne" (Narcissus of the Mountain), which grows in the Esterel area (vs. Narcisse des Plaines" which grows in Grasse area, and is sweeter, more honeyed but also quite faint fragrance). Narcissus poeticus, also known as Poet's Daffodil is another sub-species that is grown for the fragrance industry, both in the Netherlands and Southern France. Jonquil (Narcissus jonquilla) is native to the Western Mediterranean countries, and is also grown for extraction purposes, but in even lesser quantities, as it is rarely used - case in point is Vol de Nuit.

Paperwhite (Narcissus papyraceus) are a cultivar of this wild narcissus species as well, forced to flower around Christmas time, for their symbolic purity of Virgin Mary. In the Language of Flowers, narcissus symbolizes unrequited love and selfishness. 

Wild narcissus (Narcissus tazetta) smells both green and fresh, and also heady and almost sickeningly sweet. The scent invites from afar, with this heady melange that permeates the air around its modest surrounding among thorny bushes and garrigue shrubs. It invites you from afar, but if you get very close to smell it - you'll be hit by its lethally rotten aroma of excrement and dying flesh. This is due to the presence of two molecules - indole (not surprisingly, also present in jasmine and civet); and paracresol, which is reminiscent of leather (and is responsible for sickeningly sweet, intensely fecal notes that permeate Youth Dew).

Narcissus has a very complex, unusual and sophisticated odour. According to Bo Jensen, while many odorants have been identified as common to narcissi (benzyl acetate, methyl benzoate, p-cresol, phenethyl alcohol and indole), none are unique to this flower. Van Dort et al. attempted to identify the characteristic compounds of narcissus, but while they found additional molecules (8-oxolinalool, 3,7-dimethyl-1,3,5-octatriene-7-ol, methyl 2-methyl-6-methylene-2,7-octadienoate, 8-hydroxylinalool, 2-methoxy-2,6-dimethyl-3,5,7-octatriene and lilac aldehyde), neither could be held responsible for the flower's personality.

Poucher delves deeper into the world of narcissus compounding, and offers an extensive list of no less than 73 raw materials to recreate the living flower's impressive aroma, including (in addition to narcissus and jonquille absolutes), natural essences such as bergamot, orris, rose otto, styrax, orange flower water absolute, ylang ylang, ambrette, and many other floral absolutes (orange flower, jasmine, rose, tuberose), sandalwood, labdanum, civet, costus and benzoin. Key synthetic materials revolve around various paracresyls (p-acetate, p-iso-butyrate, p-phenylacetate), floral molecules (methyl anthranilate, phenylethyl acetate and benzyl acetate), coumarin, vanillin, heliotropin, musk ketone, and the peach aldehyde undecalactone, among others.

I've been meddling with a beautiful narcissus absolute that my friend Jessica September Buchanan has sent me from France and to me, it is dense, rich, not nearly as heady as the fresh flower, but rather leaning onto the green side. It is reminiscent of hay fields, honey, waxy tuberose, and is both woody, sweet, green and powdery. In my search for the perfect narcissus companions that will accentuate its eccentric and subtle beauty, I have selected angelica, ylang ylang, clary sage absolute, liatrix, pinewood, pine moss, pine needle absolute, palmarosa, cabreuva, szechuan pepper, balsam poplar buds and fire tree. It's been a great challenge to work with this absolute, and neither of these complementary essences is particularly easy either, but it's been a rewarding journey which I will share with you over the next few days, leading up to launching the new creations that resulted from this process.

Narcissus Absolute

Narkiss Blue BG, a photo by Dror Miler on Flickr. 

There is no denying it. The relationship between narcissus absolute and the living flower is nil. Void. Nada.

If it wasn't for the name, there would be nothing in it to suggest the intoxicating perfume that linger in the air in mid-winter in the Mediterranean region. When a Narcissus tazetta* is around and in bloom, you can't miss it. The humble little bulb plant often hides between thorny bushes but the scent cannot conceal itself. Little pillars carrying bright shining stars that seem to have a face and a character of their own. The flowers radiate a most audacious, heady, refreshing, intoxicating and inviting aroma.

On sunny winter weekend, after a night of showers, we would jump in the puddles and the scent of narcissus flowers will stop us on their tracks. We'd look around for the source of this lovely scent (and after a year or two in the village, noticed they will usually show up in the same place - which is only logical for an endangered bulb plant). But once coming closer - there is a certain point when you're too close, and the scent is almost repulsive, reminiscent of ripe corpses and feces abandoned in some ancient battlefield.

The absolute of narcissus, while certainly haunting, as a different story. It has a certain voluptuous darkness about it, yet is also honeyed, greenish and soft. Narcissus being related to tuberose, it is no surprise to find relationship there - tuberose-like character but not nearly as dominant. Not quite powerful as to bring to mind any of the dark tales of doom associated with this flower in Greek mythology. Like its tuberose cousin, it is heady yet waxy and smooth, green and also slightly buttery and powdery. There is also an underlying sweetness reminiscent of dry hay-laden meadows and wet soils it brings to mind the surroundings of a Mediterranean winter landscape rather than the aroma of the flower itself. 

Coming back to the lab this morning for round 3 of my narcissus perfume, I'm now compelled to tell the story of the winter meadow, rather than a standalone flower perfume or a soliflore. I wanted version .03 (created on 03.03.2014) to feel like that haunted moment when you spot a rainbow in the cloud. The realization that some mushroom have grown overnight after the rain, within arm reach of where the narcissus flowers are hiding.

* The cultivated plant Narcissus Poeticus is also used for extraction. So the variations in scent also are due to the variations between these particular species, not only the extraction method or the locale.

Narcissi

Narcissus, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

When my mom was a little girl she picked narcissi on the railroad tracks with my grandpa.
Now she is a grandma but she still picks them for me!
Tonight I'm wearing a narcissus perfume I'm working on. With jonquil and narcissus absolutes. They bear little resemblence to the fresh flowers, but are equally breathtaking!

The perfume is very much based on the unique character of the narcissus absolute - densely floral, a tad spicy, honeyed, rich, luxurious, reminiscent of hay, maybe even a hint of roasted coffee.

The fresh flowers strongly remind me of winter in Israel: the flowers emerge out of nowhere, often amongst the commonest thorny bushes, and never cease to amaze me what life can bring out of the hard, rocky soil. The flowers are shaped like a saucer and a golden tea cup in the centre. Their perfume is vibrant, fresh, honeyed, backed with a gentle and rather warm crushed-leaf greenness. Their scent is that of wild flowers and freedom: redolent of Mediterranean showers, jumping in the puddles, and discovering sunshine again after a day of rain.
True piece of nature's art and alchemy.

Studying Narcissus

Narcissus, a photo by naruo0720 on Flickr.

Studying narcissus absolute leads to interesting conclusions... The absolute is very different from the fresh flower, which grows wild from bulbs in the Mediterranean region. Wild narcissus blooms in the coldest days of the winter, so living in the Northern Hemisphere, where daffodils and narcissus are associated with spring took a while to get used to for me...

Growing up in the little village in northern Israel, there was nothing more delightful than spotting narcissus flowers while puddle hopping. We would just follow our noses and find them hiding among thorny bushes with their delicate yolk centre and crisp white petals. But the closer you get - the stinkier, more indolic, animalic and revolting the scent is... Kind of like a narcissistic person - which is charismatic and attractive until you get to know them better and realize how much they stink!

The closest thing I smelled in terms of raw materials to living narcissus was a sample of para-cresyl acetate that my friend Laurie Erickson sent me a while back. The absolute, however, smells nothing like it at all, and brings very surprising notes and complexity that makes it a very intriguing raw material, which I would have happily used more often if it wasn't for its extremely prohibitive cost. It also makes me steer clear of the cliches for narcissus (i.e.: the young mythical lad staring at himself in the pond until drowning in his own superficial beauty...), and look at it in a new angle, that is more sensory and less cerebral.

Opening with surprisingly green, herbaceous notes, narcissus absolute (from Narcissus Poeticus) possesses creamy floralcy reminiscent of tuberose absolute, but layered with far more greenery reminiscent of mint, hay and tomato leaf absolute. There's something dirty and slightly repulsive about it - almost like a heap of rotting garden weeds. The dryout is reminiscent of hay, and is a tad powdery. Still bears a strong resemblance to tomato leaf absolute but softer.

In Arctander's words (p. 433): "The odor of narcissus absolute is strongly foliage-green, very sweet-herbaceous over a fainr, but quite persistent floral undertone". Arctander also distinguishes between two varieties of narcissus absolutes that are produced - "des plaines" from the Grasse area, which is "orange-colored, very viscous, and has a floral-sweet, mild and rich, but not very powerful odor"; and the "des montagnes" variety, which comes mainly from Esterel in Southern France and is "greenish-brown, viscous liquid of green and somewhat earthy type. The undertone is sweet and balsamic-spicy, reminiscent of carnation and hyacinth, but still carrying a strong, green-foliage note". It's hard for me to tell which specimen is the sample that I'm holding, as usually the location relates only to country, not exact region or city (and in this case - both varieties are from the south of France). If to guess by the appearance alone of the oil, it could very likely be the "des plaines" as it has an orange colour; but to judge by the smell - it fits the description of the "des montagnes", and is very tenacious.

Another type of narcissus is jonquil absolute - a cultivated variety (Narcissus Jonquilla) which is more rare and even more expensive than narcissus, and its scent is sweeter and more floral (tuberose-like) and honeyed with hay and green undertones very similar to that of the narcissus absolute, or as Arctander describes it "... heavy, honeylike, deep-sweet floral odor with a strong green undertone and a somewhat bitter, very tenacious dryout note. The odor bears great similarity to the fragrance of longoza and tuberose, and a remote resemblance to hyacinth".

I feel I will need to spend more time with this both of these absolutes to fully grasp their depth and complexities. They are by no means pretty or easy to work with. But that's exactly what I find intriguing and fascinating about them. And I've been deriving immense pleasure blending with them and bringing forward their animalic and floral characteristics while embracing their foliage and earthy aspects. Essences with such complexity and dichotomy unleash my imagination and take me to unexpected places.

New Growth

So much for the candles!!, a photo by she who is on Flickr.

There’s no mistaking the influence of No. 19 upon opening the cute little 15ml splash bottle of my friend and colleague, fellow Canadian (now turned Grassoise) perfumer Jessica Buchannan’s newest creation, Fleur No. 1 galbanum and iris make a happy dance that echoes the distinct accord that is so characteristic of Chanel’s iconic scent, yet with far less melancholy, and with underlining softness of musk. After a few minutes, Fleur No. 1 quiets into a mellow sweet violet of alpha ionone, that quietly hums for a prolonged period of time. Once you’ve made the leap beyond the violet drone, you will find a meadow with delicate green floral narcissus and hyacinth notes, warm woods and a hint of oakmoss, and if you listen carefully – a subtle coniferous note that is softly green, like the new growth tassel of spruce in springtime.

1000Flowers Fleur No. 1, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

I joined the celebration of launching Jessica’s line at Lark boutique on Main St. tonight (July 14th), where she recounted her inspiration for the scent – spending last spring in Nelson, BC, she had to stray away from her originally planned first floral (a sunny, Mediterranean perfume that echoes the landscape of her new home in Grasse), and instead found inspiration in the moment – the melting snow, new buds and leaves and wild violets growing on the mountains of interior British Columbia, where she grew up. There is something to be said about embracing the moment.

photo, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.

Canadian Perfumers, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.