winter day

It has been a cool winter day. The sun was fighting with the last snow clouds of the night and finally broke through the grey fabric faintly, lightening a thin white snow layer. The icy crystals covering the roofs and streets of Zurich reflected the light and sent neon white radiance over a town that was busy with Christmas preparations. People moved joyfully through the shopping miles, enjoying the peace of the season. In midst of this busy winter town there was a little corner where the sun seemed to shine more brightly and warmer. Here, the warmth of the Moroccan sun poured out of a cosy room, filling the passage below with scents of summer and sunshine. Rose and Jasmin danced with Cedarwood, Mandarin and Petitgrain fought for attention, Sandalwood and Vetiver laid the ground silently. There was joy and peace in the air and you could hear people talking to each other about scents and perfumes and perfumery. Following these scents, people entered the room, and were transformed in time and space to find themselves in the fragrant world of a Moroccan souk of 100 years ago. There were tables with little bottles of natural scents from Morocco and from all over the world, shining brightly and inviting to play. And there was a perfume, delightfully glowing liquid that was the synthesis of these and more scents. The innocent visitor would sit down, enjoy a glass of white wine and start to play her own game with the scents and the perfume. Every hour, this play with scents was interrupted and a thorough silence filled the room. A lovely man with a smile on his lips would install himself on a large, comfortable chair, look around and then start to read. He did this every hour, filling the otherwise noiseless room with his vibrant and deep voice, reading from a little book with stories from a Marrakech of 50 years ago. People listened to him with gleaming eyes and smiled.
From time to time, you could also see a perfumer, standing in the middle of the room and telling his story of how he played with the Moroccan scents to create something new. He too had a happy smile on his face and enjoyed the moment.


Pictures: The room Mirroir des Modes, Egon Fässler, reading Canetti's voices from Marrakkech, customers and Joya, owner (together with Marianna) of Mirroir des Modes