This is some mysterious brand. Out of nowhere, suddenly it’s here and we are glad it is.
But curiosity led me at least to try to find out anything about it, even though it’s not that simple. It looks like that they decided to represent themselves quite strictly with the scents themselves and not with some stories around them, which is nice, just it is not so easy to write about it. So …
And, since Sherlock Holmes was not available, my own investigation revealed:
It’s an Italian brand (and you should tell by the way it smells.)
The original name appears to have been Profumi dell’anima, but since it is the name used by La Via del Profumo for one of its collections, this may have been a reason to change the name. (Or, conversely, they changed the name for other reasons and La Via del Profumo took it as free … or whatever).
The founders of the brand are Art Director Davide Mattei and perfumer Michele Marin, who is also the nose of all fragrances.
Both the word “Anima” and “Soul” refer to the soul, but the use perhaps meant to draw attention more to the emotions that perfumes evoke than to some spiritual matters.
This is, actually, the only idea with which they present their perfumes, whether on their own website or in interviews. They refer to the instincts, memories, and emotions that are associated with perfumes and their strong impact on our experience. And this is probably the source and inspiration of their work.
And since we instinctively and traditionally place emotions into the heart, their symbol is a porcelain heart-shaped container, each hiding two scents. I assume that they serve more as displays or testers, I can’t quite imagine them for normal use, but maybe someone will change my opinion:
The vials themselves are nonchalantly elegant, in simple square glass vials with wooden lids.
So let’s look at my impressions, memories and connotations, which the given collection evokes to me.
I would say, that like red thread (Fil Rouge), spices stretch through all of them. Very diverse spices and definitely other culinary ingredients too, but the result is not culinary, or gourmet-like, rather, it seems to me as if the fragrance maker spent quite a lot of time in the kitchen then and created perfumes from what surrounds him.
Or, if I shall go into some deeper memories or images, it comes to me as a child who “cooks” while his mother cooks. He clings to various shelves, looks everywhere, tries everything, and examines. By touch, sight, taste, and above all by smell. And where he tests “his own” mixes in a small pot.
By no means do I say that the scents are composed higgledy-piggledy, I only say that I feel such childish playfulness and inquiry without any fear of experimentation.
Spicy Tuberose. First, the spices tickle in the nose, then the mandarin juice pours over them for a while. But they mix, dry out, and when the tuberose comes, they are properly fit again. Together they create a slightly cinnamon impression, and with the milky white sandalwood tones they end up unexpectedly gourmet, but fortunately not too sweet. Cute, nice and dense just right.
Spicy Lily of the Valley, for change. First, pure lilies of the valley in the grass, then along with the spice and patchouli gets an incredibly herbal touch, so it could smell at herbalists hut, or maybe at the witch’s hut in the mountains who turns you to the bear. Or someone else turns into a bear. Or so. And that bear also fell off in the raspberry bushes to the wet herbs on a waterside of a mountain stream and the whole has a touch of spicy green. If I would tried it only fleetly, I’ll say that it is artemisia, but in a more detailed examination it’s definitelly a Bear in the Lilies of the Valley. And it is great, totally fairy tale great.
Take two flacons of Pigmentarium perfumes, Murmur and Eroticon, add a pinch of tobacco, mix, done. This scent is called red thread, but when I close my eyes I see a gray-brown color, a shade called Taupe. It starts with very soft animal tones with a very similar oud as in Murmur, gradually cocoa is added to it, but not quite as dry cocoa as in Eroticon, gradually start to smell like powder mix for Angel Food Cake Sauce. But without Angel Food Cake. Here, the spice is much softer than in other scents, this time it was rather raked in other kitchen shelves.
Right at the beginning, an unrivaled and uncompromising fresh, just sliced ginger root, so fresh that juice flows out of it when sliced. The citrus in the background are trying, but in vain. Later, it sweetens a little, and through a short Gari intermezzo, it moves into a mildly spicy-woody-musk phase, which, although different in sound, unsweet and non-gourmet, has a lot in common with the Love Twist drydown.
One small espresso please, without milk, without sugar and with a glass of cold water.
And in the meantime I will admire the sea.
And a peach, do you serve a peach?
Summer in Italy, excellent coffee on the city’s seaside promenade, no sunscreens, cocktails or beach bars … just sea breeze, peach osmantus, the smell of ice water (how it is possible to smell cold water?) And a gentle touch of coffee. And sometimes tickles that ubiquitous spicy tone, it’s slightly smoky here and we could declare it a bit of scooter exhaust.
So here somebody raked in the top shelves, in tea cans. And a can of strong Russian tea fell into his hands, perhaps simply the most decorative one. Or it was the strongest smell. That must be tried. I have already tried various tea scents and most of them are very calm and soothing. This one is different. It is the strong black spicy tea, strongly supported by dark green tones of oak moss and complemented by incense. No tea party. This is tea for Siberian caravans, or Chinese forest robbers as captured id Van Gulik’s books.