Lonestar Memories: Colombina on Perfumesmellingthings. (...)Lonestar Memories makes me want to escape the mundane confines of my everyday world(...)

Lonestar Memories: Katie on Scentzilla. (...) Lonestar Memories smells of the examined life. Inside there is joy, and there is tiny heartbreak, e xisting only in reverie. The scent unravels into the consideration of past experiences, and pinings for future joys and heartbreaks(...)

Lonestar Memories: Marlen Harrison's review on PerfumeCritic.com (...) If you're a lover of leather or richer wood fragrances, this is gonna be a holy grail scent and in that case, better get two bottles.(...)

Lonestar Memories: Cait Shortell's review on Legerdenez. (...) Do you appreciate scent because you identify with the scent and its image? Does a scent have the ability to create a memory outside one’s own experience?(...)

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Music for 18 musicians, and pirouettes with orris

- - Do not forget to post on May 14th, Mother's day: Your comment counts! (see benevolent blogging)--

Right now I am listening to Steve Reich’s music for 18 musicians. It is soothing, soft, somewhat minimalist and repetitive, distinctively Steve Reich, a genre that W. calls aquarium music. Amalgamating with the chords, showers of muscle tension running down my back, beauty flowing in and out, xylophones dancing with violins. On the table in front is the l’art-pour-art orris trial, sprayed on paper strip, last version, citrus chords filling the empty space left by the xylophones, dancing grapefruit with bergamot, a rose hardly detectable, spicy freshness, clean and bright yellow mixes with the brown, beige melody of Reich’s masterpiece, which becomes more dramatic: What were soft circles turns more edgy, lines of red showing up, voluminous, powerful and tearing on the heart, beauty can hurt. Beauty must hurt. When I heard this music the first time, I had tears in my eyes, I found myself placed in the theatre of life, standing in a stream of people, rushing through their days, I was lifted up, opened up my arms and found myself dancing in pirouettes above caravans of cars on their way downtown, men running through cities, going through their day as if they had discovered eternity, I saw planet earth filled with life, and joyfully I left for an other galaxy, leaving a tail of light behind me, little stars that would fall down on earth again and bring comfort to all that I left behind.

The scent emanations from the strip continue to circle around a soft, vibrant core with a polished iris. With all its light, it still allows the woody chords to appear that are precious: agarwood, sandalwood and frankincense. And finally Ambergris is showing itself and now that it is here it will never leave again. The scent play never becomes dramatic, it circles forth and back, modestly, yet I feel a brilliance and clarity that I wished. Steve Reich on the other hand has crossed the central, dramatic highlight and lets us return from the galaxies, he leads us to a wide open horizon with the sun leaving in a sea of red, promising tomorrow, just like a mother sitting on your bed, after your exciting day full of adventure, placing her soft hand on your head, blessing you, sending you to dream land, with the promise that there is eternity.


Blogger Konstantin said...

Believe it or not, I was listening to exactly the same piece when I opened your blog page this morning to read the new post. I totally agree with your impression of Reich's music. I am recently craving minimalism (even in the perfume creations - I have abandoned the heavy notes and the multistage impressions). The orris creations sound enchanting - I love the green, soily, dirty, smell of orris (I don't like the powedery renditions like Iris Poudre but I love Iris SIlver Mist, for example).

1:24 AM  
Blogger Tania said...

I felt the same way when I first listened to that shimmering, pulsing, utterly strange new music being born—as if it were the precise, mathematically intense beauty of Bach taken to its inevitable and fundamental conclusion. Beauty must hurt—how true! It seizes us—it is our lifeline to the larger real truths that undergird our mostly hoodwinked half-seen lives. It snaps us to. You write of beauty beautifully, Andy. Thanks. And speaking of beauty, I have been in a passion over what iris can do in fragrance for fully a year now (beginning with my falling vertiginously in love with Chanel No 19 last year and expanding now to Heure Exquise, Iris Silver Mist, Cuir de Russie, Guet-Apens, and nearly anywhere else I can smell it). I hope that when you have a composition that you feel does justice to this costly material (and its scent both ethereal and earthly at once), you will make a small batch for those of us who would happily pay for it and enjoy the pleasure of making it possible for such a thing to continue to exist.

7:40 AM  
Blogger andy said...

Dear Konstantin
this is phantastic, I guess we have here again a vibe issue!
and yessssss, there is someething dirty in oris, something...well, hard to manage but still adorable. Let's see whether you will like, sooner or later you will find it under your nose....

Dear Tania
Thank you, too!
What I can tell you already know (when I have my composition ready): Yes, I have my plans with it. I do not think in commercialization of this thing, I think in something else....
But I am not 100% sure that I am there yet, so let's wait and see!

8:12 AM  
Anonymous Prince Barry said...

I am not aware of the music...sorry. I get inspired by Novus Magnificat by Constance Demby.

The orris sounds wonderful Andy. You could do it as a limited edition scent, first come, first served.

11:30 AM  
Blogger andy said...

Dear Barry
I have something else in mind, but close to first come, first serve...
we will see.
And the Novus Magnificat by Constance Demby I do not know... I have to check.
Take care and enjoy your evening

12:23 PM  
Blogger Anya said...

Damn, Andy, that first paragraph confirms the hippie theory. There's no denying it -- you've been made. Hell, I haven't heard a "we are the universe" vibe since Haight Ashbury!

On a practical-21st-century-perfumer note, I have some old, old iris root I've been tincturing for about two years now, and oh, meow, it makes me purr. It's so different from the orris butter that's available commercially!

I now must blend with it, the beauty really is calling my name. The downside is that orris is so hard to relate to here in the tropics. It's like a fur coat, there's a disconnect like wearing a fruity mango scent in Switzerland.

PS -- thank you so much for the private note about my new site -- may I share it on my group?

5:54 PM  
Blogger andy said...

Please feel free to share!I send you my fragrant wishes and hope for a tropical envelop for your orris ;-)

6:42 AM  
Anonymous Flora said...

Hi Andy,

The orris sounds so wonderful! I am so looking forward to its final creation.

I have never heard of that music - I must find it, it sounds intriguing. I assume I have heard it and not known what it was.

8:36 PM  

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