Duende

El duende is supposedly a mystery, a "power that everyone feels and that no philosopher can explain" according to Federico Garcia Lorca. An "untranslatable notion" whereby a flamenco artist allows "their darkest, most vulnerable side to express itself" in their medium. Isn't this just called an emotional connection to art? Am I making a reductive statement? Art of all forms - music, literature and poetry, film, and perfume, etc. - have moved me to tears and to elation and all other manner of emotions between, so do I understand something by my own nature that many cannot? Is it really that mysterious? - Are most people incapable of making those connections to art? If so, I would find that to be incredibly sad. I am not entirely sure what Anatole Lebreton thinks of this question, but his composition, Duende, seems to suggest he's not buying it either. Chocolate. And a lot of it. A big warm, melted cup of xocolatl, an ancient Central and Southern American chocolate beverage reserved for the elites that is flavored with allspice among other things. The allspice note in the top of Duende immediately calls this recipe to my mind with its warm, sweet, clove and cinnamon and nutmeg wood-blend aroma. Then there is the third part of the top, a striking ribbon of davana running right over it. There is a deep boozy fruitiness to it and a honey undertone. Xocolatl. Gorgeous, scrumptious stuff, but certainly not "dark" and "vulnerable", more like "pour me a cup and let's join the festivities!" There is a slow and gradual shift where the "dark" starts to be more apparent, but more of dim lights than emotional turmoil, in the form of a resinous, oily woody, leathery oud. How this oud material is presenting itself is a bit opaque (the opposite of open and vulnerable, as it were). The leather facet of the oud seems to be amplified by castoreum or a similar type of material, and there is a sweetness to the fecal animalic note that strikes me as civetone and not necessarily the oud. A gentle smokiness comes through as well, but that also seems to be, possibly, cypriol - or a cypriol amplification - as opposed to strictly the oud material. In summation, it smells wonderful. But not pushy, or "dark", as oud can often be nor to what the creative brief suggests. The semi-sweet chocolate accord rings true from beginning to end of the perfume. Duende is a lovely gourmand, a superb example of the relatively novel chocolate oud genre that is starting to take off. At any point do I smell the connection to el duende? No, can't say that I do, it's too tasty for that; I'm not feeling dark or vulnerable, I'm feeling hungry. Can I suspend this disconnection from the creative brief and still have a high opinion of Duende? Yes, fully, especially if I choose to think that Lebreton is being a bit sarcastic - and why not. "Dark" and "vulnerable" can take many forms amongst many different people, and sarcasm (or hunger) can certainly be one way.

Sweetish ambradome-davana dominated. I dont get much cacao or clove, but what I get clearly from the start was raspberry-peach flavored black tea with lychee on the side underlined with creamy flowing blue cheese (niva or it could be bit harsh dirty animal undernotes). Gourmand combo for bold personalities who aren't afraid of it, a tougher not so sophisticated but unique connection that somehow works and can be someones signature. It fades fairly quickly and stays skin only, after 3-4h completely gone for me.

i so deeply want to love this and i so deeply, simply, cannot abide it. absolutely stomach turning for some reason

It starts off a civet bomb, like the most animalic facet of a vintage classic, paired to a dry, stale, slightly hay-tinged cacao. I was thankful I only sprayed once because I thought, “this is not for me...too dirty and unbalanced.” However, that opening is the small price you pay for what beauty is to come. All of the opening notes are in service to a gorgeous drydown of woody cocoa powder and sweet ambergris (best description I can come up with for a complex, abstract accord that smells wonderful on the skin). Maybe it’s the castoreum deep in the blend but Duende has the feel of a close feminine relative of Chanel Antaeus. I’d call it a chocolate oud. It’s dark and rich and dry and powdery all at once. It smells like the ideal of a delicious musk of a 6’4 Spartan with thick curls, roman nose, and elegant sandaled feet. 5 out of 5.

Next to my house there's a pastry shop that makes chocolate bonbons shaped like animals, and this smells just like that: like a chocolate bonbon with the shape and spirit of a horse. Surrounding the strong chocolate accord and the animalic scent are very warm notes, a powdery amber accord, and a touch of spice. If you like surprising perfumes, you have to try this.