Passage d'Enfer

(Review of a bottle c. 2002) Passage to hell? Well, I’ve always agreed with Billy Joel on this one: I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with saints. If this is what hell is going to smell like, ship me off cap’n/God. Hell seems to be quite quiet, gentle, and a uniquely fresh and sylvan place. In sort-of typical LAP style Passage d’Enfer is pretty linear, delivering to you what they (and the pyramid) say that they are going to give you from beginning to end and top to bottom. It’s Giacobetti that makes this perfume stand out, and the ever so subtle ways in which she chooses to let the perfume shift over the course of its life; a passing smell would make one think that nothing has changed, but a deep and studied sniff will make you wonder “wait, was that note as far forward a little while ago as it is now?” Giacobetti has always been tremendous at this sort of thing, of making quiet perfumes full of immense detail and subtle characteristics that reward the patient, the sensitive, and the connoisseur types. First and foremost this is a myrrh and frankincense perfume that primarily evokes the resins of both, with slight and silky tendrils of smoke from both as well. Those of us of the Christian background/persuasion will note the smoke as being considerably less “hot” than what we were/are subjected to swinging around in a thurible while our knees ache. D’Enfer wants to focus on the citrusy, earthy, green, woody, hard and dehydrated resins more than the smoke. However, the dehydrated facet that frequently comes with resins is overshadowed here by another player. The addition of muguet to this composition is inspired. It adds a slightly watery, sweet white floral, and very fatty/unctuous quality that makes the myrrh and frankincense seem enormous - yet they are giants that never make a sound or stir despite their large size. The three of them, the muguet, the myrrh, the frankincense, sit there very quietly, and when you turn your back they shuffle themselves but when you revert your gaze the shift is so subtle you wonder if they’ve moved at all. The smokey aspects gain intensity in the “dry down” - such as it is - but they are augmented back to the mandate by animalic, gray musks that keep the “white”, the “clean”, and the “wet” theme from the muguet distinguishable. Passage d’Enfer seems so beautifully simple - maybe even deceptively or stupidly simple - that I have to marvel at it. It hadn’t been done before 1999 and I haven’t smelled anything that has pulled it off nearly as well since. Some might bemoan the lack of delineation between the myrrh and frankincense, preferring more photorealistic presentations of one or both, or the general linearity of the perfume, but, I will reiterate, I have yet to smell an incense perfume as detailed, comprehensive, and beautiful as Passage d’Enfer unless I am forgetting one, which seems unlikely. Regardless, it is one of my favorite incense perfumes ever created and I am happy to take this journey into hell with it - which seems to smell a lot like heaven.

"Passage To Hell", or as Google Translate recommends "Hellish Passage"... I live in Canada, I went to school in the U.S., forgive my French... Yet L'Artisan Parfumeur claims this fragrance was named in homage to the brand's historic headquarters located on the rue du Passage d'Enfer in Paris in the 1970s. Regardless, there is nothing hellish about this fragrance, actually quite the opposite. Passage D'Enfer is THE church fragrance to me, without a doubt. Avignon is THE church incense with Cardinal and Full Incense right behind it. But Passage does something different, somehow with its blend of incense and lily it was the first fragrance where I felt like I could truly say "This smells like a church." Not church incense, a church. Specifically a Greek Orthodox church in Center City, Philadelphia. So it goes without saying I instantly fell in love. The fragrance that I would consider Passage's cousin would be Relique D'Amour. Relique is quite a bit lighter and considerably more green. Relique is like sitting on the steps of an old church on a spring morning, Passage D'Enfer is the scent of being in an old church where the wood is soaked in years of incense and flowers. There seems to be a lot of issues for others with the performance of Passage. I thankfully do not experience any of these issues. For the first two hours I get more than decent projection and amazing sillage. Around the fifth hour its pretty much a skin scent and by eight hours it's completely gone. That's more than fine for me. If I can get five hours of "good" wear out of an absolutely BEAUTIFUL fragrance, I'm happy. While I absolutely LOVE this fragrance I would suggest sampling as I can see how it may be challenging for some. This is not a summer freshie nor a delicious gourmand. This is a fragrance that I feel most people will either love or hate. As for me I'm a lover of Passage D'Enfer. For the sake of transparency and authenticity I really want to write a complaint or two out about Passage but honestly I don't have any. I don't think it's "the best fragrance ever" but I certainly do think it's the best at replicating the smell of a church, specifically an Orthodox church. So order a sample or blind buy this fragrance. I don't care. But I do suggest you check out Passage because I love it. - 10/10 - Summer Nights, Spring, Fall. Early Winter - Location/Situation: Center City, Philadelphia, October, 9AM... Liturgy. The chanting of hymns, the rhythmic shaking of the incense censer, the smell and feel of the old wood, and the icons that look into your soul and urge you to look into theirs. You look at the ceiling where a huge icon of the Theotokos looks at you with motherly love reminding you that you never have to suffer a passage to hell because of the Gift that her body brought into the world. She urges you to climb the ladder not suffer the downward passage. - Song: Gethsemane - OM

Lately, I'm having a lot of trouble with longevity with pretty much everything I like. This time, though, it's L'Artisan, so, it's a bit expected, unfortunately. You see, L'Artisan without longevity problems would be among the very best niche brands. Passage d'Enfer is another classic representation of that. Olivia Giacobetti made a minimalistic fragrance around two notes - incense and lily. With those two leading way, and considering the name of the fragrance, I expected a dark composition, but, surprisingly, this one is everything but that. It is an incense perfume with lots of light and life. I don't get a lily note as pure lily, like in Charogne, for example, but, the way incense is modified - it's sweetish and waxy, even syrupy at times - suggests that the lily is present, although in the background. Even with that sweetish character, though, this perfume is still airy and ethereal, like a lot of other L'Artisans. Passage d'Enfer gets soapy in the drydown, with a smooth combination of faint woods, white musk and some of remaining incense, but that phase is so close to the skin you can feel it only with your nose on the wrist. This perfume has a stamp of both L'Artisan brand and Giacobetti. Its simplicity is obvious, but is perfectly mannered and quite unique - in fact, I couldn't think of a single remotely similar scent, even with all those incense-based compositions. It also has a flaw of being too ethereal - it disappears within three or, if you're lucky, four hours, and for at least half of that duration it sits very close to the skin. This is one of the cases where you pretty much cannot overapply the perfume, so, a larger dose can help with the projection, but it probably won't make it more durable. These Gates of Hell smelled a lot more like Gates of Heaven to me. A wonderful incense interpretation with a lot of character but with obvious longevity issue. 8.5/10

Passage d'Enfer takes me back to my Catholic school days. We spent every week at the school's adjoining church for mass. And ceremoniously the resident priest would burn incense, exactly of this type. Most "church incense" that is reported in fragrance reviews typically will have the redolence of sweet smelling labdanum along with frankincense and/or myrrh -- thick and resinous. Here, it's incredibly dry and aromatic with smoky cedar, near camphorous and incredibly cleansing, almost sterilizing, combined with clean, peppery frankincense and perhaps some arid sandalwood. Passage d'Enfer feels very solemn and ceremonial. A nun taking her vows; a young adult undergoing the sacrament of confirmation; a funereal passage into the next world. Somehow though, it isn't a melancholic scent, but a spiritually cleansing one. Like being inside a confessional, smelling the dry wood, unburdening from everything earthly. Not a feeling of enlightenment, but one of reprieve. And as you leave this church with your spirit absolved, you bless yourself with holy water -- still and quiet in the foyer in a basin of cold marble, tinctured with the scent of lilies that decorate the vestibule. And the lily in Passage d'Enfer really is that subtle, offering just a delicate sweetness that delivers almost a gentle nuttiness to the woods. Perhaps again, it is soapy sandalwood that I'm detecting. Passage d'Enfer is fairly masculine as far as lilies go. Very balanced and serene. Wonderful for a cedar perfume of a different nature; a bit too delicate for a lilycentric fragrance. However, austere, meditative and achingly beautiful. This is one that you can find sanctuary in.

This is not just a perfume, it's a bottle of calmness, sadness, spirituality and memories (all in a good way). I come from eastern Europe and, like some reviews already mentioned, it reminds me of Orthodox Church. However, it's not only that. It's a scent of a old wet stone. Wearing this, I imagine myself sitting at the stairs of a church or at a bench at a graveyard, looking some for poetry inspiration, but the slow and calming rain is starting to fall. And that's the essence of this scent. That's when the inspiration comes. I also developed a strong connecting between this fragrance and a loved one who recently passed away. Don't get me wrong. It doesn't smell like death or anything like that. What makes the connection are the florals. This is probably due to lilies and so many flowers present at the service. So, when I mention death, I want to say that I put this on when I want to distance myself from the world and remember that person. I wouldn't go for the EDP version as the EDT's longevity is good enough and the notes are more simple, as they should be in this case. I only dislike the name as it may be misleading. The bottle is ok, but the new red label also wants you to thinks about enfer (hell). I would just leave it plain white, like the florals. I also bought another, more "gothic" perfume recently, that sounded like it will be a stronger version of this, but it's not. It's Opus 1144 by Filippo Sorcinelli. If only the juice was put in that bottle, black with a cement/stone cap, with that name, it would be a pure ethereal perfection in a bottle that also shows that.

Very unique perfume. It is serving me episode 4 of season 2 of "Fleabag". "Just kneel" moment, if you know what I mean ;) It was a blind buy for me and it is not at all what I expected. That being said, I quite literally had to go through a bit of a hell to get it, it's not an easy find (depending on where you live of course). The opening is quite strong and mature lily smell, which is probably my least favourite part about this perfume, it is damn serious and I wish it had a little bit of sweetness in it, like it often happens with incense based perfumes. However, I have to say, after literally a few seconds this smell becomes addictive. The incense makes it spicy, warm, deep and somehow macabre. I quite literally feel heat when I am wearing it, I guess l'enfer is indeed somewhere close, ha-ha. There's definitely something sacred and incredibly beautiful about this fragrance. It's probably the first time I am experiencing feelings like this about a scent. Nothing special for the first few seconds but then... wow. Oh my god. It's definitely pricy but if you like incense in perfumes it's a must have for you. Sophisticated, classy, reflective. Even though I am not a fan of a strong lily smell, all together it's something special and truly magical. Excellent to wear to a funeral and I mean it in a good and somewhat sacred way. Projection is not very good though, I have to reapply many times per day to keep smelling it.

My husband (who has been subjected to all my sampling adventures) said, “You should smell like cool, misty dusk or dawn in an interesting place.” He then elaborated on his suggestion, saying my perfume should evoke “a chapel that smells at the same time like the fresh wood when it was newly built, and like the incense that’s been burned there for years–that chapel at dawn.” He actually got a little choked up, describing this fragrance for me. Passage d’Enfer is churchy, so that’s what I ordered a bottle of, all the while thinking, “They can’t get everything he said into a bottle.” Well, that’s exactly what they did, plus a “bonus” gray-stone note which completes the mood perfectly. The wood note is light and bright, as is the lily. The incense is also airy, and only a little smoky–as if the incense is not burning now, but has been recently. The tawny feline sweetness of benzoin becomes more noticeable in the drydown, as it mingles with the musk. I liked this fragrance immediately, but it took me awhile to fully appreciate and love it. It’s comfortable in any weather, appropriate for any occasion. But it’s not merely wearable. It’s also lovely, elegant, and distinctive. It’s composed of contrasts, marvelously resolved–rich yet light, smoky yet fresh, or, to quote my husband yet again, “intoxicating yet austere. It makes me want to bite you.”

Love this scent. Absolutely LOVE IT. I'm going through a few of my older, less frequently-used bottles, almost as a 'refresh' of my own opinions and descriptions of these, and aside from STILL liking around 90% of them, I'm quite pleased with how good my nose was waaay back when I bought this one! I'm so glad I still like this one, it still works for me and I am STILL madly in love with it -- smoky-woody white floral that works on SOOO many levels. So many levels. I am inclined to say that this one is a little more 'femme' (whatever that means) than masc, but that's just my own opinion. The floral elements are both enhanced and transmuted by the woods and smoke -- it's such a unique pairing of ingredients, and it is just so nice. I'd imagine Bortnikoff to make something like this, or possibly someone like John Biebel from January Scent Project. It has this wonderfully dainty, soft, reserved and polite restraint to it, but also has a lot of heft. I'm so glad I own this already -- I remember buying it. It was during my last year in Hong Kong, and I was eligible for free shipping, as long as it was NOT shipped to Hong Kong (for some reason)! So I got it shipped to my parents' place instead, and had a note in there as a kind of 'congratulations for surviving Hong Kong!' kind of reward. Anyway, lovely scent, totally recommended!

The title of this perfume, making me think immediately about the poetry of Charles Baudelaire, grabbed me when I encountered a L'Artisan display some 13 years ago. The scent transported me, and made incense perfumes into my favorite category of fragrance. Each time I smell Passage d'Enfer, I'm reminded what this genre of perfumes can be at their best. The light floral notes balance out the animalistic elements that make some unisex incense perfumes feel more masculine, and there is a dynamism present in it's composition that continues to play out upon the dry-down. The tragedy is that it immediately catalyzes an allergic reaction for me upon application, and I remain stuffy for the first 30 to 45 minutes of wearing it. I still have the same bottle I first bought then due to this, and only wear it when I feel like I can tolerate a slight dose of masochism in the name of gorgeous perfumery. Note: I recently visited a L'Artisan boutique and was disappointed after sampling a wide variety of perfumes. They did not stack up to my memory of their wares from a decade ago. I didn't try the reformulation of Passage, and will be content to let my original bottle slowly dwindle with time.

In L'Artisan Parfumeur Passage d'Enfer, the resulting picture is a patchwork— A smell of dust and stale wood. Altars carved from large stones, devotees chanting hymns. A little earlier, I'm afraid I won't be able to accept such an incense, Passage d'Enfer comes at just the right time. Ignoring all the hype and following suit, I found it pale and somewhat transparent. Passage d'Enfer develops linearly, dominated by faint incense, with soft benzoin and musk at the end, often like a bunch of fresh lilies in a bottle, cool and quiet, in the dusk of the sky, in the empty In the center of a one-person church, a lily is beautiful and blooming alone. Olivia Giacobetti is good at creating fragments that capture memory and time, and Passage d’Enfer has a special connection with me. Passage d’Enfer has two sisters, Oriza L. Legrand’s Relique D’Amour and Penhaligon’s Elixir, all in the same line. Passage d'Enfer broadened my new understanding of thinking. This is a scene fragrance, suitable for a certain atmosphere and space, I don't think it is made by people. In the last century, there was almost no perfume set for a single scene or situation, there was no such concept at that time.

This is one I've spent many years with. Pre-sellout bottle. Many of the reviews seem to get it right. It's light, airy, not smoky, subtle, quiet, floral, dry, soapy. It's churchy and funereal, but in a bright and positive and intimate way, not morose or maudlin. It's like La Liturgie des Heures, but with a tangy, dewy, innocent sweetness that keeps it more in the morning sunshine than in the overcast shade. The older liquid has excellent longevity, but a soft throw. It seems the newer one performs poorly. And maybe that's the reason for the Extreme release, which I haven't tried. I like the original because it has a ton of character, lots and lots of mood and narrative. I could see this being the signature of an introverted and deeply romantic person who reads a lot and has a gentle yet deliberate voice. It's definitely not an alpha attention-seeking thing. It's a truly great perfume, and therefore will likely please only a select few. Fans of Relique d'Amour and Timbuktu should give it a spin.

A symphonic clash of notes. Incense and white flowers, a combination that is difficult -on paper- to pull, but Olivia Giacobetti in Passage d'Enfer (PdE) pulls it off beautifully! A woody, melancholic, religious incense combines with a shyly cheerful, mildly-sweet, soapy lily note. The musk give this fragrance a natural, softness, while the woodsy notes are here in support of the incense note. Clean, woody, serious, musky, soapy, white-floral, & lightly spicy. It smells like a luxurious wood-scented soap bar. Hence, despite its complexity, this is an easy to wear fragrance. While smelled on paper might not be very impressive to some, when worn, PdE is really beautiful & emits aura from the wearer that says "I am a serious, neat, & mindful person". This is possibly the best white floral a man can get & I say that with Amouage Reflection Man in mind. PdE is a mature, perfectly unisex, woody floral scent, the fits the cooler days more. Big "Like"

I forgot what the description of this was when I sampled it . . . This is my initial impression from a dauber sample: Wow. A perfect salty sea air scent. You can't overspray this it smells so fresh and atmospheric, and yet it has remarkable longevity. This was supposed to be incense? I get skin and salt and air. Exactly what I've been looking for. Today I tested it in spray form and the lily and incense are much more present. The lily is apparent in the first breath but quickly retreats. The incense is almost black powder, If you've ever used the pucks to burn resins or hookah shisha it's that kind of smokey, but still very atmospheric. It's still beachy but now it's the morning after Forth of July on a Pacific Northwest beach -- musky and salty and cold. The longevity is really hard to say. After 5 hours I couldn't smell it on my wrist but I kept getting whiffs of sea air as I drove.

Leave it to Olivia Giacobetti to create a frankincense fragrance that's light and airy, so unlike the heavy incenses you commonly find. I get the cool dank stone of an ancient building; fresh water with a mineral touch, like water from the garden hose; a hint of flowers; and a spicy, cedary, lightweight frankincense that dries down with a salty, hay-like feel, similar to one of the distinctive notes in Dzing! (another of Giacobetti's creations). It doesn't carry far and is never strong, and if anything I wish it was a tad stronger and lasted a little longer. But at the same time, I love its gentle and meditative nature, and a heavy fragrance might intrude too much. It's not hellish at all, but is certainly suitable for contemplations on spirituality or the Underworld. This fragrance fast became a favorite of mine.

I have this deep infatuation with "churchy" smells. And this one delivers. It's a cold, marble church with quiet, contemplative incense burning and peaceful lilies. Still, I find something kinda sexy about it. The first hour is full bottle worthy. Perfection. After that, if goes down hill. It starts to turn to soapy pencil shavings. There's a weird undertone to it that starts to come out, and that's really the best way I can describe it. Just...goes a little wrong somewhere. An hour after that, it's gone entirely. It breaks my heart, because I just love this scent. I still might buy a bottle, because of that perfect opening, but it seems like a waste due to the dry down going so very wrong on me, and the poor staying power

Weaponized delicacy. Wear it to kiss a baby on its soft little head. Wear it in a 20s silk crepe that could be shredded by a whisper then go out in a windstorm and see what happens. Wear it in Japan. Wear it like a guarded secret that informs the mysterious air your contemporaries will spend ages agonizing over. A lily bathed in smokeless incense. She’s never sipped a drip of water and grows purely on the nourishment of divine will. When a flower rarely blooms it merits celebration. Something about restraint that breeds endless desire. Piety that begs seduction, a sanctity that must be undone. Persephone at the gates, Hades smoulder behind her, spring set to erupt before her...refusing to move. @cloudcoverrr on IG

I can see how some would find Passage d'Enfer dark, sad, or funereal. I quite liked its quietude and unique smokey floral quality. When I wore it, I didn't find weak performance to be a problem. In fact I found that even a modest application filled small spaces like taxis and lift cabins rather uncomfortably. But then, I had samples from right around the launch, so maybe batch variations, if not outright reformulation have eroded the original formula. What I couldn't forgive though, was the unintentional confluence of the incense and musk notes into a distinct smokey, meaty, civety accord. Once that association was made, I could never again enjoy this unusual perfume without thinking of eating hot dogs in church.

Beautiful smoky lily, with a hint of cedary pencil shavings. It’s both smoky and fresh, which is an unusual and very pleasing effect. I love lilies and I love incense so this perfume is ideal for me. It also manages to be both simple and intriguing; I find it ‘atmospheric’ rather than gloomy or melancholic, as others have described it. I didn’t grow up Catholic, so for me it doesn’t come with any connotations. My only complaint is the longevity; it’s got quiet sillage as I expect from L’Artisan, but I wish it lasted a little better. If it did, it could easily become my signature, as for me it suits all moods and occasions, and somehow I never get tired of it.

I feel like there is a group of people who hear or read "incense" and think some dank, sticky, inherently sweet maybe - thick clouds meant to cover or disguise. Which, totally, time and place. But, I just really want everyone to experience this type of literally mind elevating, cooling, cleansing, astral, moonlight freaking incense smoke that is so light that it nearly casts its own light - it smells of light almost - its weird. Its dry and cool like its own element - purifying + cleansing without obliterating. Like the ash of of every part of every flower, leaf and tree ever grown, lived, harvested and burned - all at once, forever. Ugh. Its truly magical

After purchasing what I thought was the new Extrême PdE, I realized that I had I purchased the current, regular version. Well, I was also able to find a vintage of it on ebay and comparing the 2 (new and old), the old definitely wins out. Its way more smoky and has a particular animalic twang that reminds me a lot of Dzing! Yes, really! The devil was in the details on the old one, lol! In the end, they both last about the same amount of time, but the new one is closer to the skin, cleaner, sharp and citrusy and somehow smells less interesting- ultimately evoking pencil shavings. I'm very curious to now try the "amped up" stronger version they're selling.