Nobody knows this little Rose
by Emily Dickinson
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
I don’t think I have
waited for something with as much anticipation and imagining as I have for the latest
chapters of Vero Kern’s lauded and perfumed life. I cannot perceive my life without
her fragrances invading my senses, reminding me skin is for
anointing and worship. My passions are Onda
and Kiki with a steadily growing
obsession for the Mito Extrait, a shockingly green carousel of
champaca and magnolia lit from within by the most incredible sharp, oozing
lemon note and mulchy, rutting galbanum, all crushed blooms and dank
undergrowth. Quite an achievement and one that drips like ochre sap across the
skin, exploding a thousand shimmering gardens in the brain.
Now we are spoiled
like wayward, beautiful children. Vero has given us two fragrances; both Rozy but very different in tone. One is
a lush, fruity eau de parfum, dramatic and sweetly animalic; the other is
another of Vero’s Voile d’Extraits
that sit somewhere between her eaux de parfums and her precious extraits. This
voile version of Rozy is breath-taking,
a mix of plasticised paint effects and heady medicinal roses and a vortex of
fractured petals whirling in a compulsion of sexual promise.
I have been thinking
about these two beautiful fragrances for days now, ever since they arrived from
Bloom in London after Vero’s superstar visit to Oxana’s boutique on the 9th
April. They were accompanied by the sweetest postcard from Vero herself,
sending her kindest wishes to myself and my fellow Garçon Mr E. The reviews
have been coming thick and fast from writers across the blogosphere; nearly all
of them superlative in their praise for the skill and originality of Vero’s scented
art.
There is nothing
quite like the provocative sensuality and bravura assemblage of Vero Kern’s
work; wearing her perfumes is like slipping on the mantle of other worlds,
other desires. Her work is alchemy pure and simple. Vero recently changed the
rules of perfumery a little by releasing her fragrances in a new and unique
strength she has called voile d’extrait
(literally.. a veil of extract…).This
is not Vero just creating a new concentration but also a new style and
interpretation of her extraordinary fragrances.
The voiles offer a very stylised, almost abstracted view of both her
concentrated eaux de parfums and her powerful pure extraits. Each voile
reflects, compliments and contrasts its source material in subtle yet inventive
ways. The Kiki Voile d’Extrait is
gorgeous… now I adore the Kiki… best
lavender EVER, all caramelised and sunny burn, but Vero has added oppoponax and
cassis to the Voile which seems to just melt across the skin like a languid
caress in a hot still field. And I think if
I wore my Onda eau de parfum, Onda Extrait and my Onda Voile d’Extrait all
together, the world might stop turning on its axis.
The long-awaited Rozy, a homage to iconic Italian actress, Anna Magnani, is available in
eau de parfum and voile formulations, both of which are utterly sublime, full
of sensual rage and unconventional beauty. I have been waiting for Rozy for quite some time; the thought of
Vero handling roses electrified me when she mentioned it to me last year. I
just could not imagine how it would smell, I just knew it would of course be
beautiful. Vero beautiful.
The inspiration is
unique too; very Vero. Anna Magnani was an Italian actress of unusual force and
conviction, famed for her striking looks and highly charged acting style. She
came to prominence as part of the Italian neo-realism style of cinema with
films such as Pasolini’s Mamma Roma
and Rome Open City directed by
Roberto Rossellini who she loved obsessively. Her harrowing death scene in Rome Open City is one of cinema’s most
powerful and poignant moments. She became much more widely known outside Europe
after starring as Serafina Delle Rosa in The
Rose Tattoo with Burt Lancaster, the film adaptation of the play by
Tennessee Williams. The play was originally written by Williams for Magnani to
perform on Broadway but she was turned down it down due to her concerns about
her English. But the film earned Magnani an Oscar for her incredible and
emotional performance.
Watching Anna
Magnani on screen now I am struck by the magnetism of her commitment to the
cinematic moment, the passion and sense of woman
in her performances. She seems stripped back, unadorned and raw. Her unconventional
smouldering beauty was one of fire and explosive mood. Many of her directors
were preoccupied in exploiting this elemental drive and Magnani’s roles were
channelled into classic mother/Madonna/whore personas indicative of the grim anti-Catholic/anti-fascist
cinema of the day.
Anna Magnani is a
legend in Italy; an symbol of forceful female sexuality and raw cinematic
power. When she died aged 65 from pancreatic cancer, Romans thronged the
streets and she was honoured in way usually reserved only for Popes. There has never been anyone like her since, a
performer in complete harmony with her complex and simmering sexuality. Once
seen, her performances are hard to forget. She had the most compelling eyes,
shadowed and haunted framed by tousled hair. She was edgy, passionate, devoted,
enigmatic and magnificent. An amazing muse for a scent.
Vero has said of Rozy: ‘This scent is supposed to be the
rosy playback for the secrecy, the vibrancy and the divine in the rose.’
The Magnani theme is
reflected through the two faces of Rozy,
one voluptuous and earthy (the eau de parfum) and the other emotive and
confrontational (the voile..). The eau de parfum is much more creamy and
teasing with a delicious honeyed lick to the rose. Vero’s trademark passion
fruit note is spread sexily through this version adding a touch of skank and
bothered skin as the scent settles over the peachier rose midriff. This use of
passion fruit is quite unique to Vero. In anyone else’s hands it would quite
simply be rendered as a generic tropical facet, adding a hint of pina colada or
fruit salad to an accord. But Vero has manipulated the weird, pulpiness of the
fruit, that fleshy sauvignon blanc ripeness that seems almost carnal in its
intensity. Vero has found her own musk, her dirty base, an element that is
recognisably Vero.Profumo whilst
adding luxury and difference.
The drydown in the eau
de parfum is sublime, crystalline and delicate, far removed from the enormous
curves and billowing hues of the opening. The voile version of Rozy is very different, much more
intense and demanding. I loved it as soon as I sprayed it, it just felt so right
on my skin, settled, ravishing and drop dead sexy. It fills the air around you
like a gathering storm. The initial impression is one of hot plastic roses, an
almost claustrophobic intensity of notes- the bitter crush of blackcurrant
buds, more honey and a really sticky labdanum resin. This mix is so different
from the sweetform petalage of the eau de parfum. It demands your attention,
constantly pulling nose to skin, savouring the diversity of shift and
ambivalence as Vero’s wicked rose seduces the senses. It is quite a feat to
create one great rose; to create two seems crazy, but Vero Kern is one of the
most remarkable artists working in scent today and when she turns her mind to a
note or bloom you know the result will defy all expectations.
Both versions have
the most remarkable sillage and tenacity. In fact the eau de parfum reaches the
peak of its beauty about two hours into the wearing. Once the heady succulence
has melted away, the Rose d’Orient glows like a watchfire, surrounded by a
soft-focus lilac touch and the ambered radiance of hot honey. It is a parfum
that takes it time, asks for a little patience and devotion. It is not much to
ask for something so divine.
I do prefer the
voile though; just personal preference. I keep returning to it over and over
again, mesmerised by its most unfloral eccentricity. There is a sense of
rawness to the mix, a begging to be worn, worn wildly. I smell fresh paint,
turpentine, storm-torn gardens through open windows. I love the unsettling and
most unexpected rubberised top to the scent, a whiff of perfumed inner tubes.
Then the lovely lovely Vero rose, assembled with minute attention to detail,
every twist and turn of shadowed petal, each bruised stem and twisted thorn has
been carefully brought to decadent life. The cassis bud is a delightful touch,
adding echoes of autumn fruit but also suggesting the slightly pissy off-colour
green the fruit can sometimes bring. Honey is another Vero trademark note and
used to drip warmth and sexy harmony through the composition. It adds animalic
heat and purr, complementing the unexpected slink and roar of the voile’s
structure.
Many perfumers,
while seeking to radically re-interpret a bloom often forget what made the
flower so arresting in the first place. By layering the true thrill of nature
under gauzy tricks and aldehydic glare, the effects are muted and lost.
Abstraction has its place, but one must be able to look deep into the heart of
dizzying, fractural floral collage and be able to perceive a semblance of
reality or the construct just falls apart.
Vero’s Rozy Voile d’Extrait smells remarkably
strange and defiant, layers of carefully applied veils and guises to beguile
the senses. Yet as a perfumer, Vero never once forgets the place and balance of
her precious rose at the heart of this compulsive composition. It feels easy
and fluid and yet the complexity of the build is astounding. I love this
strange opaque veil she has created, unsettling, ambitious, profane and erotic.
Vero has never shied away from the sex of scent; the libidinous collision of
skin and aroma, reconnecting us to times gone by when scent ensnared and
provoked, appalled and gratified. We must never forget the raw power of truly
great scent to evoke carnality and light the edges of love. Don’t be afraid of
roses, embrace their flickering darkness and love the rose within. Both
incarnations of Rozy are quite extraordinary, quite an achievement by Vero
Kern. I applaud silently in shadows as the rosaceous fumes roll around me like
fire.
For more information on Vero Kern and Vero.Profumo, please follow the link below:
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