Reliqvia

If you've ever wanted to experience what the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis smells like, then this is the scent for you, because it's truly the most perfect mimicry I could ever imagine. Whether by curiosity, or a genuine search for a new scent to wear, I highly recommend at least picking up a sample of this in your next round of perfume testing. I agree with all of the suggested scent notes, with the small correction that I personally perceive very little sweetness in this, so I would say that instead of an under-note of “Sweet Orange," the initial smell is more akin to the bittersweetness of an orange’s peel, lying under a heavy blanket of dark, smoky wood and pine when it dries down. For those that want a TL:DR, that is my short and sweet review. 10/10 But, for those who want to listen to someone wax poetic about their aesthetic and emotional response to this perfume, here you go: A context for those that may be similar to myself– I am not Catholic. However, I was born and raised within the faith, and my entire family is Catholic. I left the church as soon as I grew old enough to realize that I was different, and could form my own thoughts and opinions of the world. I am queer, both in sexuality and gender, as well as neurodivergent. What I'd initially been led to believe was the feeling of faith in the divine, turned out to merely be a crippling paranoia of surveillance that was thrust upon me by those more powerful than myself, who constantly expected my unquestioning conformity. And yet, because I was ingrained with this ancient culture from birth, I began to feel a comfort in the darker things in life. I found a rebellious sense of power in surrounding myself with horror– the ghastly, macabre, “accursed” things that religious people fear: taxidermy, vampires, the beauty of death and decay, carrion beasts, “haunted” antiques, and frightening art pieces of all kinds. Being that I truly don't have a single spiritual cell in my body, I embrace these things that hold no power over me, and yet ward off those that will make me fight tooth and nail to defend my mere existence. In my journey of self-actualization and self-expression, Reliqvia has found a very natural place in this personal sanctuary that I've built for myself. Having read my prior context, you should know that I'm being honest when I say that this scent will not, nor should it be, for everyone. It creates an air that is dark, foreboding, and subtle, yet refuses to be ignored. Much like an art piece that will disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed, as they say. It makes me feel like that gilded heirloom has been worshipped for centuries, and yet whose truest core modern people seem hesitant to fully acknowledge or appreciate. Wearing this perfume around others may elicit negative reactions, but, I would say that that makes it perfect for those who don't give a damn about what others think of them. ***That being said, a word of warning: For those that have been traumatized by the doctrine and/or culture of the Catholic church, and have not yet built a sturdy mental fortitude and self-confidence, this perfume may cause you to recall painful memories. I'm not kidding when I say that it mimics cathedral incense very precisely. It is also very strong and long-lasting, so it's quite difficult to escape from once applied to your body. For me it invokes the complicated memory of being forced to kneel in a church pew, yet filled with awe when looking up and gazing upon beautifully ornamental art, and the peace of knowing that all pain will fade with the all-powerful passage of time, as long as one has the strength to persist despite the overwhelming pressure of conformity. On a final note, I personally pride myself on my level of androgyny. This perfume leans a bit more masculine, but as someone with a higher level of estrogen, it balances perfectly with my natural skin scent into something truly genderless. However, for those with more testosterone in their bodies, it might create that unwanted smell of "B.O." or sweat that others have mentioned, so you may want to layer this with something sweeter to re-balance it. Perhaps something with a small hint of bergamot, vanilla, or jasmine, for example. Just a thought.

(Please bear with me as you read this review, because this fragrance keeps changing, and so does my opinion)... I thought this fragrance would be right up my alley, because it lists so many of my ride-or-dies: blackcurrant, orange, orange blossom, balsamic... and I love pine, cloves, nutmeg, sandalwood, tobacco. Everything I read in the reviews made me think this would be a solid "hell yeah!", so I purchased a sample from Luckyscent. I've opened the vial three times in three days, and had the same impression every time: SMOKE, BURNT, rubbery tar, freshly burnt pine... and sourness. Bitter and sour. Can this be the cat-pee quality attributed to blackcurrant? This is my first time experiencing anything but joy with BC. :( The first two times I opened the vial, I closed it immediately and scrubbed my fingers. But tonight... I got the nerve up to dab it multiple times on both wrists, about 45 minutes ago. Immediately, somewhere in the ether, I heard David Byrne ask, "My God... what have I done?!?" It was like letting a pissed-off genie out of its bottle, after a toddler has given the bottle a good shake. I was pounded with the scents of Smoke, Incense, Mastic/Lentisque, and the tar-like property of the Guaic Wood. I got a fleeting whiff of tobacco, but, alas, it wasn't my Granddad's fragrant pipe tobacco. Instead, it was cigar-like tobacco that I associate with fat old married patriarch-types trying hard to get a little side-action. I could not imagine wearing this, nor could I imagine ever wanting to smell this on anyone I actually like. But wait.... there's more. Shockingly, within about a minute, Sandalwood, that quiet hero, emerged and started mellowing everything out. About 45 minutes in, I was smelling Sandalwood, Pine Tree, and the tiniest hints of Patchouli, Cashmir Wood and Cloves. The incense and smoke mellowed out, and the tobacco has been thoroughly tamed. At the 75-minute mark, I have gone from a hard "NO", to slowly coming around. This fragrance is a Mystery. This is what you annoint yourself with when you need a mental and spiritual focus, to ponder the profound, and define your sacred space. So when the text above states, "Reliqvia is the perfect sacred space", I am in complete agreement. But I don't see this as an everyday sort of scent that you bounce around in. It's what you put on when you need to meditate on bigger things and make a life-changing decision. 90 minutes after applying, the genie has chilled out, the scent is close and mellow, and possibly I could wear this out of the house. Or in the house when my partner is around (I waited until he went out to meet friends, because I'm a good human being). I should note that I have not yet experienced any of the 'juicy' or 'sweet orange' or the fruit of blackcurrant (which I love love love). I may need to put this in a decanter that I can spray, and see if that changes anything. My initial thought was that this fragrance veered towards masculine, but now I feel it's not male or female. It is mystic and oracular. This is not a blind-buy fragrance, but I suspect it is very much a love or hate fragrance. I don't hate it, so I've rated it "love".

As an Irish Catholic child, relics were a part of growing up in a way that I'm not sure may other people have engaged with. Saint Thérèse of Lisieux came to Lancaster Cathedral in 2009, so we made the journey over to see them. If I remember, it was her thigh bone or elbow, in a great gilded box. It looked almost like a victorian terrarium, great gilded frames and glass or rock crystal panes of glass on all sides. Within the box, completely visible, was the bone of the Saint, a red velvet padded bottom, and noticeable cobwebs. The practice was to kiss the relic, meaning the crystal panes. I have no idea how old the relic's container was, but the base metal was very noticeable, it must have started to corrode in some damp environment, in the crypt of whichever French cathedral is its home or possibly in some great cellars during the war, who knows. This base metal was richly gilded, though the corrosion was still noticeable. There was an old, stale clove smell, as if the padded cushion at the bottom of the container was stuffed with a mixture of holy herbs and spices, for sacred reasons or to repel insects, I am not sure of the practices there. Possibly clove oil, actually? Reliqvia made me feel nine years old again, bowing to that relic, smelling the cold, sharp note of the corroded metal frame of Saint Thérèse's relic, the light atmospheric incense of the church, the spices hidden within. Opening: metal, sharp, loud, corroded, and dirty. A relic's metal, too ancient and fragile to be cleaned, it is old and beyond reproach. It lingers, like when one has handled certain metals, or old pennies. It lingers like the perceived blessing or good fortune that we Catholics attribute to worship of relics. Something of it comes away with you. Mid: Similar, but spicier, clove and sandalwood. The sharp metal note dies away, it is more like the smell of hands handling metal several hours ago. It is more atmospheric, it feels like you're in a crypt. Possibly a more pronounced rust element. Close: the clove turns nutmeggy, the metal less corroded. It smells exactly like hands after you have prayed a rosary, with those rose petal powder rosary beads. A cheap base metal lingers, but you do not mind, for it is sacred. Rosewood blends further and further into the direction of a subtle rose. It is transformed. 10/10 for narrative and execution, 6/10 for wearability (though I am obnoxious, so others may find this totally unwearable).

#1769 in my “Tour de Fragrance” This scent evokes abandoned temples, darkened cathedrals and crumbling monasteries, the orange and currants being the last nourishing items in an unkempt garden that once fed a religious order long depleted and buried. I’m kidding! I’m always scoffing at reviews that come off like the author is auditioning for a job writing ad copy for L’Oreal. Just having a little fun. ; ) But seriously folks. This is a nice scent. Doesn’t make me want to run right out to buy a copy of “Seven Story Mountain”, but like every Sorcinelli scent I’ve tried so far, he brings it with a seriously churchy vibe that’s heavy on the heavy stuff, long lasting on the skin, better than average silage. The woody, green, heavy on the incense vibe I always look for is here in all its power and glory. I expected some harshness in the opening, which I don’t mind, but none of that here. It was just very, very smooth. Reminiscent in the opening of Comme De Garcons “Series 3 Incense Avignon.” (the church being run from Avignon historically known as the “Babylonian Captivity" of the papacy, seemed an odd name choice for a churchy scent) but the CDG fragrance is a hollowed out scent, even for an EDT. This Sorcinelli scent is better for roughly the same money. I deem scents like this masculine. I really don’t know any woman who would wear this, but I’ve run into three so far today that really like it on me. This is not for the car pool or any tight space, at least not right after applying. For me it would be something for dinner and drinks at a place with outside seating. By the time the evening progresses this is totally fine at intimate range. Not anything you’d wear clubbing or to a casual office. In fact I don’t think a guy who is still at the age to be clubbing would wear this at all. $220 and up seems to be the range, so you’d want to get a decant from scentsplit.com to try before you buy. Good Luck and Good Hunting!

As an artist, Sorcinelli seems to exist in a netherworld, suspended between the baroque and the brutal. Compare the gilded, incensed splendour of Reliqvia with the brashness of the X Se or Super Fluo? line. The bottles say it all, when the burnished and studded splendour of Reliqvia’s presentation is contrasted with the trashy Dayglo of something like Dolicissimo Sollievo. Although he transits freely from one mode to another, the same aesthetic underpins all of Sorcinelli’s work. Excess is the Way to Self- Transcendence, be that in a seventeenth century basilica or a club or cruising ground. Reliqvia is a gorgeous incense and spice combination, making a nod to both Sorcinelli's deeply-felt Catholic sensibility and his urgent desire for authentic self-expression. In the notes which accompany this fragrance Sorcinelli seems to be saying that it offers to the modern mind, - like the relics of the past, - a tangible sense of the sacred. It is the the perfect antidote to any oppressive fragrances which might have damaged your faith in the power of perfume to uplift the soul and delight the senses. Who wouldn't want to be wreathed in a fragrance like Reliqvia that is, at the same time, deeply contemplative and full of sensory pleasure? Love, love, love.