Dendera

The sheer joy in Peter Carter’s (who shares a surname with a famous Egyptologist) Dendera derives from its uncompromisingly homemade indie nature, as Florista below aptly calls it ‘the hippie/granola aesthetic’ If you want mellifluous symphonic compositions in which the constituent parts cannot be discerned easily it may be best to go for something by a major house like Chanel or Guerlain. Dendera combines two distinct arms of Ancient perfumery: that of the Luxurious oriental Oud/rose blend or the candied delight of the myrrh/labdanum/vanilla combo that I particularly enjoy here, which would be expected for a first outing by a brand that wishes to invoke the eternal nature and order of the cosmos through scent. Both seem at first to be companion gracenotes in a decorative Orientalist ditty played on the Oud (the lute-like musical instrument in middle-eastern music whose minor keys and lack of frets provide the melancholic ambience for which it is known, and which means ‘wood’ in Arabic, for both the perfume and instrument material), but it soon becomes apparent hey are the bones of the scent, sustaining the structure on either end like the mullions between glass panes in a skyscraper curtain wall, imparting strength while allowing air and light to permeate. This weight yet clarity is achieved quite innovatively here by a distinct lack of sweetness or floralcy usually so prevalent in either rose/Oud or Arabic amber compositions, some prime examples of which are Ex Idolo’s 33 or Grand Soir or Laboratorio Olfattivo’s Alkemii, or even the scent Dendera seems to get compared to a lot, LADDM - all popular and rendered ‘modern’ by a roundedness attained via sweetness. Dendera eschews that luscious body by having each natural material take its turn in the spotlight - first, the Myrhh, then the slightly animalic Vietnamese Oud, then the Labdanum and the Orris butter (the Rooibos tea nuances of which Peter Carter lovingly discusses in his YouTube videos on the creation of Dendera become hugely apparent in the drydown half a day later, just after the rose absolute’s glimmer has died down) it all makes for something rather sombre, yet never claustrophobic; it interacts beautifully on the skin as all quality naturals should. This should never go on clothing though - on fabric it is both eternal and totally lacking in complexity while also amplifying that sour sweaty skank of oud, losing al the beautiful airy resinous bits as the rest evaporates. This works it’s magic on skin (and on wooden jewellery that absorbs both the perfume and the warmth of your own skin) What this all equates to is something wonderfully ‘dry’ and archaic - a total refutation of modern perfumery, and its commercial aims of being either coquettish, conceptual, or merely expensive. I would be very interested to see how he interprets both the present and the future with much more familiar aroma-materials, and the ever popular fruity esters and ethyl maltols in his white and blue bottles, because they seem so at odds with what he has made with Dendera.

Peter’s nose has anticipated my taste in the past, which is why I was willing to blind-buy a full bottle of his first amber fragrance. While I expected great things from Dendera, it delivered something wonderfully unexpected: Dendera brings out the best in myrrh, my favorite of the odiferous resins. If you’re a fan of myrrh, this one’s for you—and if you aren’t a fan of myrrh, this one’s for you to sample and use as a basis to re-evaluate your preferences. Dendera opens with a classic blend of mixed spices reminiscent of Diptyque’s Eau Lente... without that somewhat caustic cumin note. Immediately, the sharper aspects of frankincense begin to assert themselves, along with a strangely brief but warm and humid labdanum. The mid follows quickly, within about two minutes, as frankincense becomes bolder and sandalwood emerges strong onto the scene. This sandalwood is pleasantly dusty and inoffensive, neither acrid nor remarkable. Finally, after a few minutes, the higher fruity and menthol notes of myrrh begin to stir. After a half hour has passed, myrrh, sandalwood, and an assertive oud vie for dominance. After a full hour, the sandalwood has receded somewhat, while oud lingers as a thick, earthy base supporting the myrrh. Ambergris is present, here, buoying the myrrh upward into one’s nose. This is where I see the real brilliance of Dendera: Oud and ambergris foreground and broaden the myrrh, giving it a sustained fruitiness, a hearty, earthy base, and no hint of that medicinal bite which often characterizes one-note, run-down myrrhs. While most elements of this fragrance fade by the fourth hour, the myrrh itself, still somewhat complex, lasts for a day—hey, folks, it’s an extrait. Dendera is a lovely amber that demonstrates how varied, rich and intriguing myrrh can be when it has the right supporting notes. In terms of improvement, Dendera’s labdanum note fades too quickly, at least on my skin, and would have really enhanced the first hour of performance had it lasted.

I've only worn this properly once from my sample but wanted to get my initial review up on here (it's already on YouTube). Dendera to me is primarily about the incense, the opening feels very potent and I imagine it's the scent of wizards and magic potions, Harry Potter comes to mind! I notice the oud in the opening but it's handled with a light touch and oud haters like myself need not run away scared. It lends a slight meatiness but it's so light and only detectable up very close, the main thing I'm smelling in this opening is floral scented incense smoke, an amber like resin accord, an earthy / mineral aspect and quite strong hot peppery spices that feel very,very dry. The scent changes gently on my skin, this is no roller coaster but it's also far from linear. The development is so smooth that you could be forgiven for thinking that it's linear unless you study and take notes along the way! The rose in here is never too obvious to my nose but I can sometimes struggle to pick out rose in fragrances for some reason. The amber accord in here is beautiful, a bit powdery and smooth (maybe benzoin), yet with a richness (possibly labdanum. The fragrance is quite woody and dry especially through the heart notes where you get quite a strong grassy yet dry vetiver. There's a very light sweetness running through from start to finish but I find that the sweetness increases through the wearing. The final embers of this on my skin are salty, woody, slightly sweet and undefinably sexual but not in any animalic way. Despite it's potency the scent is ethereal and acts almost like a thin veil of smoke around you much like the incense smoke that accompanies this fragrance all the way through, albeit in different doses at different times. Clearly a well thought out and painstaking effort from the perfumer and well worth testing for all incense and amber lovers.

A blast from the past. Very dry, dusty and austere. Not a safe blind buy and an acquired taste. It's a 'dare to wear' kind of a scent. Very bold release from The House of Centauri. It opens with thick black smoke, burned leaves, charred wood with some burnt rubber,medicinal notes and spices. Then it warms up just a little with precious resins. First sniff and it reminded me of Donna Karan Black Cashmere. Something I smelled around 17 years ago,at the time when it was long discontinued. That one has amassed a cult following in the crazy fragrance community of Poland. It brings back long forgotten childhood memories of scouring a dusty attic for some lost treasures. Many nights spent by a camp fire. Playing close to WWII bunkers. The mustiness of bare wall cellars where I used to live. Smell of an old green army backpack. For me, it's not a perfume seen as something you would adorn yourself with, it's more of a certain mood and aura of the times passed. I cannot wear it on my skin as it does something weird while it dries down but I will still enjoy it on clothes. Is it safe to wear in public? If you are a professor of Egyptology nobody will bat an eyelid. For me as a woman I have to add some simple vanilla fragrance to wear it out, just to make it a bit more feminine. With Orchidee Vanille, it smells like spiced chocolate. The bottle and presentation are top notch. A ruby gem on my shelf.

I am a fan of Peter and enjoy sampling his journey as a perfumer. This is an insane first release,it is supremely natural smelling and for my senses nails the feeling of moist old dirt, you do get the sense of this beeing more so the smell of a place than of a person. I enjoyed denderra, it is something however that I just enjoy smelling now and again as a novelty piece, not something I would wear, as opposed to Gaea (imo his best release) which is also artistic, but remaining easy to wear. If perfume as an art form is your thing check it out! If you are a collector of obscure fragrances these are some of the best showcasing bottles I have come across in terms of design and quality. This is a love but not something I would like to own. I will also mention it has NOTHING to do with LDDM, zero in common. As for performance it has good longevity (about 8 hours) with meaningful transitions, but it doesn't project a whole lot, however in my wearings I do tend to catch wiffs of it throughout it's life and I suppose that is due to the fact the smell itself is so novel that my brain tends to want to pick it up.