Vol de Nuit Extract

The soul of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry poetry is here...in this little, splendid art decò bottle and in its pixie tears like, green liquid. It is so poetic, wistful and whimsical it makes my eyes shimmer and water with emotions. Maybe I am going a bit crazy over here...but I see I am not the only one so affected by it. It envelops the wearer in a bubble of scent that smells both green, powdery, woody and freshly balsamic; in terms of emotions and imagery it conveys the sensation of someone fragile, whose soul is been hurt...but in that suffering there is resilience, and light...just like the flower so dear to the Little Prince in Exupêry's literary world. To be specific Vol de Nuit is inspired by the same named book by Exupêry and by one of his true life experience, a perilous night flight during a huge storm, maybe that is why I capture this sense of fragility and resilience, it was after all man against nature... a man facing the sublime, alone, with little to no chance of surviving, he is enthralled and dazzled by what he sees but he knows he can not loose himself in it...he still has a purpose. What an homage Guerlain made to his dear friend...to his audacity and melancholy both! Antoine was a pilot during the war and disappeared for sometime in the middle of the ocean. All the versions of Vol de Nuit express this sensations and emotions to me but the extract version is the glory of old...they don't make perfumes like this anymore, sadly. And that does not mean it smells vintage, what I mean is that it is blended so well and the material treated with such a magic touch...it is the old Guerlain. Strangely, I think this one smells more modern and avant-garde then many recent niche release and it is truly unisex even if marketed for woman. The men or women wearing this is mysterious and possesses the elegance of old, is also sensual but the sensuality comes from his/her fragility, conveyed by the powder. It is superb, it really is. The perfume has a texture like that of a fine crystal and it is luminous, truly...it almost shimmers, I think if I had to describe it in two words I would say louminous and etherial, but written in capital letters. There is a sensation of dewiness and rain but there is nothing aquatic about it... it is also airy and cool, and they do specify that this perfume celebrates mankind conquering the air with its flights. Now, about the perfume itself: Galbanum in here is magical and its one of the main ingredients; it is enveloped by fresh balsamic notes that transform it in a balmy galbanum, it is so beautiful. I don't know why but to me it seems like something coming from the deep sea more then the earth....something a creature like Melusine could wear. It has a fresh and gummy quality about it, at first a bit medicinal but then mellowed by the flowers and by the orris. Some earthy touches enrich the composition, specially oakmoss, but there are dewy green and underwoods elements. The flowers dance around the galbanum accord and they are sparkly...probably the louminous character of the scent comes from there...although I think some aldehydes may have been used to achieve such a marvelous texture. I can smell most of all the violette and the rose in the extract (while in the other iterations there's more iris and other white flowers), they are potent but it is as if they whisper...as if you are approaching them during the humidity of the night and they want to act shy! Narcissus gives a little of spiciness and some iris materials envelops everything in the most beautiful powder ever! I don't know if they used iris rhizomes or iris butter but it is high quality for sure... a gossamer of powder that shimmers and radiates from the skin...it has an otherwordly beauty at this point, something preternatural. In this we can find the spirit of Guerlain, of its violette and of its elegant powder....what I smell is potent but has a delicate nature, if that makes any sense. Some woody accords are present too but not so strong like in the edp version, in the extract the flowers are more potent and free from the other outline elements. Of Vol de Nuit I own the extract, the edp (plus two decant of the old version/packaging), the new edt and a perfumed shimmering powder encapsulated in the same art decò bottle but dark blue in color (colored like the ocean under the flight, it has an air puff nozzle, they made it for the anniversary)! That is how much I love this perfume...the extract version has the better performance of them all and highlights different aspects. I think if a robber were to sack my house and say I can only keep one thing then this extract will be it, and it's not because of its price or exclusive, hard to get status. Everything, from the precious poetic liquid to the art decò inspired packaging with the propeller effect on it...everything speaks to my very soul. It was nostalgia that made me discover it and buy it in the first place since Exupery's The Little Prince was a literary piece that shaped my personality and sensibility during my youth...it was given to me when I was just a child and many of the allegory and metaphors in the book escaped me at that time, but the very litteral quote "what is essential is invisible to the eye" was understood by me perfectly well at that time. Each year I read the book again and new mening was found. I know we are here for the joy of perfume and not to share literature but I want to leave here one of my favorite quotes...I am wearing Vol de Nuit Extract while reading it...I am kinda sobbing too... "If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there..' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened..And you think that is not important!" He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

(Bottle c. 1980) Oh, where to begin with my beloved Vol de Nuit extrait? Do I rehash the story of Jacques Guerlain’s diabolically difficult and abstract creative brief with few materials to use? Do I rehash a note pyramid? I can’t bring myself - or really allow myself - to do things like that to Vol de Nuit. When people think of the Guerlain classics they invariably say Shalimar, L’Heure Bleue, Mitsuoko, perhaps Apres L’Ondee or Jicky, and on and on with a few other possibilities, but I have yet to hear anyone who has answered this question from me to mention Vol de Nuit without being prompted. And that’s really quite a shame. And, perhaps, that is why Guerlain have mostly abandoned VdN; the new formulations of the EdT are atrocious; finding a new bottle of the extrait is exceedingly difficult unless you go to their Paris flagship and specifically ask for one. In this humble hobbyist’s opinion (ok, maybe not always that humble) this is one of the most gripping, interesting, beautiful, and masterful creations by the storied house. The juxtaposition of the cold and the warm elements feels disparate and grating at moments, but always in an arresting way. It’s curious. It keeps me on the edge of my seat. The watery and silky smooth greens have a coldness to them that I would say is the olfactory equivalent of the tactile experience of a mint oil or toothpaste on flesh. The galbanum and narcissus are nearly alarming, but to make sure they do not fully freeze into hardened blocks there is the Guerlinade breaking through with soft, gentle, yet firm force. The warming florals and vanillic amber soothe and caress. I vividly recall a time wearing this, when I was taking my first trip to the Asian continent, and I was so thrilled and anxious by this new adventure that I wanted to commemorate the flight with a special perfume, so I chose - perhaps obvious, and a bit on the nose - Vol de Nuit. Lucky for the fellow sitting next to me. It didn’t really occur to me until we were in the air that the plane would be getting us there by flying over the Arctic, almost directly over the North Pole. I recall a sense of alarm as we roared over the frozen desert, knowing that just a few inches beyond the window was a hostile and uninhabitable place with temperatures that would kill me in minutes. Yet there I was, in a seat, Vol de Nuit radiating from me, a cup of coffee in my hand to perk my brain and warm the gut while engaging my nose with its sugared caramel and fruity aromas, separated by comfort and modern technology from that which is completely inhospitable to me. Those feelings, that memory, the incongruence of true reality, are perfectly captured by Jacques Guerlain’s epic. Every time I wear Vol de Nuit is a special moment. It is an exercise of my emotional spectrum. Legendary work.

Vol de Nuit Extrait is one of the most moving perfumes for me. I have an emotional reaction to its heartbreaking beauty, stirring up sensations of joy, grief, wistfulness and radical acceptance. As I wear it, I reflect on why I tend to escape into the safety of the fragrance hobby, as it seems to be a protection from painful emotions, but Vol de Nuit transcends escapism, it is the authentic and real laid bare, confronting our life's purpose. Which is fascinating to me, as Jacques Guerlain was inspired by Antoine de Saint-Exupery's novel of the same name. Its theme centered around personal sacrifice as a means of a greater purpose. There is something profound about this, admittedly scary for many of us, but yet we all may, at one point of our lives or another, however long a stretch in time, find ourselves in this position. We propel through life in search of meaning, when often the meaning is under our wings waiting for us to discover it. The extrait has a watercolor galbanum tempered by violet and a swath of jonquils basking in the late March sun. The air is no longer cold, but still cool and brisk. It straddles between bright optimism and anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. It reminds me of walking in a green space with my partner, around this time three years ago (2020), and the world came to a halt, we had no idea what the future held for a pandemic that no one on earth experienced in their lifetime. But still, I saw the spring flowers as brilliant as ever, pushing their way through the earth with no trepidation, steadfast in their survival. We did much to sacrifice, we endured, fearful of the future, but we are here today, even as we mourn so much loss. Vol de Nuit has echoes of a note that reminds me of sakura blossoms, gossamer, soft, whispering on the surface of an effulgent Guerlainade, smelling like the way the sun setting on the perimeter of the woods looks like. The sun sets and it's as if the dianthus growing low to the ground seems to throw its aroma further into the air, desperate for the attention of pollinators, another act of survival. Dianthus barbatus, Sweet William and his sweet nothings, clove-sweet, powdery, a musky hug and arm and legs entwined. I tip my hat to Thierry Wasser for keeping the spirit of Vol de Nuit alive for as long as possible. I will cherish what I have, and I not only mean this extrait, but all that life has to offer.

I need to get to know this better. I have had my very first experience with Vol de Nuit in pure parfum form (which I assume is interchangeable with extrait) as a vintage version, from the late 60s, I believe. It is in a stunning crystal amphora bottle with a rosebud stopper. There is no question in my mind, given the age of the juice and the fact that it is used, that something of it's original glory has been lost. However, it more than makes up for it with it's potency. More than a single daub is overwhelming. It is dark and green, full of moss and galbanum, pungent and almost harsh. After a short while, carnation begins to peak through, and along with it something the smells animalic - perhaps the indole from the jasmine? I can't be sure. I can not say what narcissus smells like, but apparently it adds to the greenish quality. How is it possible that oak moss is not listed among the notes? From what I can detect, it seems to be the key note that almost permeates the entire scent. Now here is where the confusion begins. Being a VdN virgin, I have nothing else to compare it to. The first time I tried it, I put on way too much - perhaps 3 or 4 daubs - and it almost made me gasp. I could taste it and the scent was with me for 24 hours at least! I just tried it again this evening, and the experience is far more pleasurable. My question is, is this extrait version an update or reformulation of what was referred to as parfum in the 60s, or is it more recent? I am so intrigued by this creation and believe I may even come to love it, but would like to know if what I am smelling is in fact the way VdN is supposed to smell or just a trace of what it once was or is meant to be. If anyone is familiar with the vintage in the rosebud stopped bottle, please PM me. EDIT - I have enjoyed getting to know VdN. She will definitely have a place in my fall and winter wardrobe, especially when the occasion calls for a serious and sophisticated scent. But knock me over with a feather! How can it be that the extrait doesn't contain oakmoss?? My bottle is from the 60s. I'm wondering if it did at one time, or if it's just the aging of the juice itself.

"An abstract work of art, masterpiece from the 19th century." Vol de Nuit Extract is a 1933 fragrance from the legendary French perfume house of Guerlain. It is regarded as one of the best perfumes by Guerlain, and possibly even the world according to the fragrance community. Conceived by Jacques Guerlain, the last perfumer of the Guerlain family, it is also one of the most influential fragrances of its time, along the likes of L'Heure Bleue, Mitsouko and Jicky. I was incredibly lucky to own a decant of the extract from a friend. What is amazing about the fragrance is how abstract it is. The level of abstraction in VdN is distinctive. It's very difficult to pin down any particular notes in the fragrance: it's woody, powdery, green and floral all at the same time but at no point can I pin down if it's the narcissus, galbanum, oakmoss or jasmine-rose that's working its magic. In essence, it is akin to an abstract art piece at the art museum: it should not be analyzed to the smallest details, and it is simply meant to be admired as a whole. Indeed, it smells like it belongs to the Old World because it indeeds does: despite being conceived in 1933, the fragrance is timeless. Although marketed to female users, I can imagine this being appreciated by the male users as well, and furthermore, this versatile fragrance can be used for any season. VdN will always be considered as one of Guerlain's greatest fragrances. To me, it's a toss-up between this and L'Heure Bleue as to which one is my favorite Guerlain fragrance of all time. Hats off to the late Monsieur Jacques Guerlain and the perfume house; I doubt that Guerlain can conceive a perfume today that would come close to anything like this. Like what many perfume wearers often say, "they don't make perfumes like this anymore."