Experimentum Crucis

Zoologist paid the dowry for their daughter Moth’s betrothal to Francis Kurkdjian’s Absolue Pour Le Soir. Turns out, for a forced marriage, they actually hit it off quite well - very well actually. Skanky and nasty bedroom activity has lead to the birth of a child they will call Experimentum Crucis, and the midwife is none other than... Quentin Bisch...? The King of the land of Suffocating Akigalawood has donned a nurse’s frock and brought into this world a bizarre looking love child. This child would find inspiration with Isaac Newton, thinking “what would the world be like now if a rose fell onto Isaac instead of an apple?” It’s always an impossible question, “what would happen, if, instead, this?” This is starting to shape-out to be a tale fit for a Wes Anderson film. I’m late to the party. I missed when this baby was squelched into a plastic pool in Francis’s and Zoologist’s living room, and I missed a few birthdays, but I finally get to meet this kid and there is a hint of genius hiding in that weird little head of theirs. Sometimes genius is the product of something absurdly simple that many/most of us simply miss - for example, there is a reason an apple falls and doesn’t float. Why? No one really seemed to ask, or at least passionately care to truly devote themselves to finding the why and publicizing it until Newton did. Nurse Bisch’s moment of absurdly simple genius comes in the form of an absurdly simple damascone and ambroxan+akigalawood formula (the latter he would end up repeatedly molesting in future compositions). There is not much new here; fruity and woody rose damascones over synthetic dark woods and animalic musky ambroxan. It’s the cumin and honey that turn the simple moment of an apple plonking someone on the head into the spark of genius. The cumin is properly funky/skanky woody, and the smell of salty and sweaty body odor, but without the thickness or the sharpness that often makes it painful or lumpen in many other perfumes. The honey is likewise. Floral, tastefully sweet, waxy and sticky, but its texture does not feel like it is dragging itself across your nostrils on its way to your palate. I find this texture to be the best and most commendable characteristic of this Bisch composition, since it is so rare for his compositions to have it. Experimentum Crucis feels like it is levitating, not launching; intermingling with the air and the other molecules around it, not blasting them away with aggressive and toxic force; calmly pondering a deep question, not roaring away in your ear. Cons? Does this bizarre love child have any behavioral issues? Eh, I wish its attention span were longer, but it is part of the Gen Z/Gen Alpha transition trained so well to keep scrolling away on their preferred social media platform(s), so I guess I shouldn’t expect much; its notes and layer transitions happening quite quickly and with maybe not much attention to timing. Unlike Absolue or Moth, this doesn’t want to stick around long. This could also be a new formulation difference, but I didn’t smell this upon its initial release so I cannot tell you one way or another. It should, and it could, last longer. We know that Bisch is perfectly capable of making a perfume last forever (though I wish in most instances he didn’t). But that’s a minor issue to what is otherwise a very interesting, bizarre, yet simple perfume that also simply smells great. Let’s see if this kid cures cancer, or finds the solution to the expansion of the universe - or maybe they just become Hitler 2.0. Bisch knows how to deliver that baby as well. But with Experimentum Crucis, I am optimistic.

Experimentum Crucis is the yin to Hermann à mes Côtés' yang - both are bold, creative takes on rose by Quentin Bisch for ELDO. The brief for this scent is typically obscure, as befits ELDO; an "experiment" of sorts: what if a rose fell on Isaac Newton's head instead of the fabled apple? EC is darker, more woody than amber-y, with a jammy rose in the place of Hermann's dewy rose. Hermann features a prominent incense note alongside the rose, while EC is more of a chypre. Both are great rose scents, done in Quentin Bisch's trademark bold, theatrical style featuring a range of contrasting but well-balanced notes. It reminds me somewhat of Frédéric Malle Portrait of a Lady - both are rich, dark roses, laced with patchouli and spices on an amber base - but the cumin and fruits here make this less traditional, more challenging and perhaps more masculine. EC is richly spicy from initial spray, with a prominent cumin note. I like cumin as a spicy note - it is a challenging, multifaceted note, and here it is handled expertly by M. Bisch. The rose emerges early on, dark and rich, melding beautifully with the cumin. Alongside the rich spiced rose, there is a light, fruity accord, led by a thematically-appropriate apple note that, while brief, adds dewy freshness to the opening, complementing it beautifully. As it develops, the woody-amber base slowly emerges, rounding out the spicy-rose accord to perfection. Patchouli follows, the perfect accompaniment to the increasingly jammy rose, adding a hint of dirt. The sweet, clean jasmine is evident after a little while, rounding out the floral heart. Honey enhances the sweetness here, a seamless segue from the fruits of the opening to the amber base. The drydown is musky and woody, with honey keeping things relatively sweet. The florals remain, and are at their most powdery here. The woody-amber accord is pleasant, but quite synthetic - though thankfully it is never harsh. It is musky and somewhat dirty in a dusty manner during the drydown phase - dry and spicy. The woody notes and patchouli are very prominent to my nose here, forming a modern chypre base - the perfect finale to this scent. It fades to a musky skin scent, dark and earthy until final fade. Sillage is strong and longevity is long-lasting. It is a unisex autumn/winter scent. A creative take on a classic accord, EC makes good use of well-placed synthetic materials and features an unusual combination of notes. I loved this - another great scent from ELDO (and, of course, M. Bisch). 4.5/5.

when i first began exploring the world of perfume, my friend and i bought a swatch of samples off luckyscent, one of which was secretions magnifiques (which i have been putting off reviewing for ages) - suffice it to say, i LOVED it - it was the first time i was confronted with the possibilities for what a perfume could convey. and it wasn't just the scent, but the description, the concept, the marketing - they were all intriguing. so, my first concerted purchase of samples was from etat libre d'orange, including this fragrance. i have refused to choose a signature - after all, my tastes and expressions and even my very identity shifts as i grow older, as the world shifts around me, as i lose and gain lovers and loved ones, friendships and contentions. yet, if i had to choose a scent representative of some core of myself (which i don't know whether or not exists to begin with), i would be forced to choose experimentum crucis. the note of cumin, as people have already stated, gives a beautiful whiff of body odor, but its not stale - the scent of someone having gotten out of a shower, forgetting to put on deodorant, and going on a nice, long walk through cool morning air. mixed with the sharpness of the patchouli, there is something almost confrontational, Look, Here is the Body, Here is its Imprint in the sensory world. the scent is floral without becoming saccharine, ecstatic without becoming sentimental. after hours of wear, when the knife-edge becomes dulled, a kernel of warmth like a small sun radiates gently, surprisingly soft and tender, like the snapping of young green branches under your feet. i am realizing that, to get into why i connect with this perfume, i may reveal too much, only: if you are an androgynous animal (beauty?) with slight religious psychosis and an endless well of painful love in your heart, this may be the perfume for you!

The One That Shouted My Name. Experimentum Crucis by Etat Libre d’Orange This took me completely by surprise. The name comes from the term used in scientific circles, and famously by Isaac Newton. In science, an experimentum crucis (English: crucial experiment or critical experiment) is “an experiment capable of decisively determining whether or not a particular hypothesis or theory is superior to all other hypotheses or theories whose acceptance is currently widespread in the scientific community.” (Wikipedia) This is what this perfume does for the status of the rose in modern perfumery. Too many rose scents are banal, insipid, cheap and cloying. So much so, that for many people who love perfume, mentions of rose notes make us apprehensive. How can this be, when the rose has captured the imaginations and hearts of humans for millennia? In Experimentum Crucis is the depth and mystery, the aura and the setting, while also acknowledging the thorns. This is the rose. This is the perfume that proves that humanity has not lost its ability to appreciate the depth of this glorious flower.

I have had MANY MANY people ask me what I am wearing. I have friends give me extra hugs because they loved the way it smelled and randome strangers walk down the street to ask me what I wearing. Body chemistry plays a huge part, but on me this smells like ambery spicy sweet roses. This is perfect for my body chemistry. This is my most complimented perfume. How did I find it? Someone was wearing it next to me standing outside waiting for my car at the valet on a cold winter night. I asked her what she was wearing because it smelled so good. I thought she was joking when she told me. Love it. My favorit kind of old lady perfume. For reference I hate "clean" scents and I love heavy naturalistic florals. I have over 100 roses in my garden and roses from the grocery store smell like cut stems. They do not smell like true scented roses.