Mauna

In my journey through Mendittorosa's current line-up, I finally reach a perfume where the inspiration and creative direction makes sense to the technical direction and overall message of the perfume - I, for once, am not reading a Mendittorosa press release and getting a headache! Mauna is the phonetic of the Sanskrit word for silence, but this is silence according to Ayurveda, which is the Upaveda of medicine for Hinduism. This silence is more appropriately described as a soundless vibration, an energy that is the lifeforce driving equilibrium amongst the primary areas of the body - similar to Om (Aum) which acts on a universal scale. I'm not quite sure what this means for a perfume, but as to the validity of the various practices in this alternative medicine I will simply state that for a divine being, Dhanvantari, to miss, or at least not warn us, that mercury, lead, and arsenic are highly toxic to humans is quite bizarre for a being who is supposed to guide us to good health. If something works, the evidence will show it; if people die from poisoning and at younger ages than non-practitioners, it probably doesn't work. What will Mauna do...? Anyway. Thankfully, Cristiano Canali, the composer for Mauna, connected this idea of a silent vibrating lifeforce to beautiful Indian sandalwood, having been stirred on a spiritual level by his initial encounters with it in India, as opposed to the Ayurveda (what a relief). I fully understand how, and why, he wanted to make this connection. Real sandalwood is gorgeous, and Canali wanted to capture the hum - the vibration - that he smelled in the real-deal while in India. He succeeds in creating a perfume of simple but compelling beauty. The opening of black pepper, ginger, and olibanum is tightly focused. There is hardly any nose-tingling piquancy associated with pepper or ginger, but they both have a naturalistic fruitiness to them that are very present in Mauna. The deep, earthy, currant-type note of pepper gives a very tight and impenetrable feeling, while the citrus component of ginger gives a feeling of levity and energy. The olibanum doesn't seem to present itself immediately. There is a bit of a green and fungal aspect in immediate moments, but the olibanum wants to slowly reveal itself: as the pepper and ginger fall away, the resinous and slightly smoky notes gain strength and presence. The silky tendrils of olibanum usher in swells of sandalwood and benzoin, and it's beautiful. Creamy, aromatically woody, peppery, resinous, salty, animalic and musky, it is incredibly complex without being the least bit pushy about it. It has the texture of fine suede - there is definitely a leathery note in here - but it's far from a skanky and animalic tanned leather accord; it's plushy and thick, but yet soft and dense like silk. There are a lot of high-quality materials, and more than a couple tricks being played, to deliver this composition, and it's very convincing. The overall effect is a palpable, gentle, vibratory hum rippling throughout the life of the perfume. There is an energy to this very complex woody accord that doesn't excite you to mania, but also doesn't lull you to sleep: every time I raise an arm or the back of a hand to my nose for one more intoxicating sniff I feel relaxed yet highly focused. That's also it's best trick. I have no doubt this perfume took a lot of time and skill to make; it presents itself clearly, uncomplicated, and magnetic, but if you stop, relax, and focus, I'm finding there is a lot happening below this uncomplicated and pretty surface but not to the point of being distracting. One should relax while experiencing Mauna. You're in for a long and beautiful journey.

"Some... celestial event... no... no words, no words... to describe it. Poetry! They should've sent a poet. So beautiful... beautiful... so beautiful, so beautiful. I had no idea." This perfume is just... so hard to put into words. For me it's more about what it does than how it smells, which I never ever thought I would be saying about a fragrance in a review. Sure, it smells wonderful; being a well balanced sandalwood... airy, creamy and with some musk, which intermingles with sweet and spicy ginger, tonka and resins. The wow factor, for me personally, is where it puts my mind. It brings silence to the over thinking and, turns the dial all the way down on my anxiety, my sadness, and the anger that seems to have nowhere to go other than self directed, stuck inward and overwhelming me. Everything softens, softens, softens. Everything stops. Shifts. My focus comes back to myself, my body, my surroundings. I'm out of my mind. I've got out of my mind and into my life. Suddenly, awake right now and seeing again this world that, in my disassociating trauma filled state, I had lost all anchor to and stopped appreciating and interacting with. Forgetting to just breathe and be still in the now. In the silenced mind, in the silence, Seeing and feeling the beauty of life. I had forgotten. Like I saw it again for the very first time... what the hell just happened? I have no idea. So, so beautiful. These words cannot truly describe it. I got myself the full bottle and will absolutely treasure it as something far more than just a perfume. Mauna is also a tool and a remedy for the woes of this existence.

Oh man, Mauna, Mendittorosa: why must you be so beautiful, so pricy, so very nearly perfect? An upscale sandalwood island idyll with none of the cliches but all of the subtle, laidback, languorous relaxation of a gorgeous secluded retreat. No surprise here that one of my favourite houses, doing one of my favourite notes and slathering on even more that I love for good measure (ginger, olibanum, benzoin, pepper - yes please, to all of that) results in a very wonderful thing indeed. The spiciness adds immense appeal to that sweet, gentle central accord, giving it JUST enough rasp to be interesting without getting overbearing. The sandalwood itself is light, pinkish, seeming magically un-fake (though I have my doubts over what its exact synthetic-to-naturals ratio might be, it really does not matter.) Tonka often turns a little plasticky on me, but here just makes the overall effect even smoother and more comforting, and isn't high enough in the mix to be overbearing. All adds up to a safe, warm, welcoming bubble of loveliness. Really adore it, and if it weren't for the high price and its striking resemblance to Amouage Meander, which I own a large partial of, it would be a very dangerous temptation. For now I'll hold out, but stalk the web for unloved leftovers, decants or discounts. One for the true sandalwood aficionados and very much worth anyone's time.

Mauna surprised me in the best possible way. When I first tried it a few months ago, I wasn’t impressed. The ginger came across as sharp and overly spicy on my skin, and I honestly didn’t think it was a fragrance I would reach for again. After letting it macerate for about two months, everything changed. The ginger has softened into something creamy and beautifully blended. Combined with the sandalwood and amber, it creates a scent that feels completely unique in my collection. There’s an almost meditative quality to it, reminiscent of the quiet calm of a luxury spa, yet it remains undeniably elegant and refined. What I appreciate most is that Mauna doesn’t smell like everything else. It has its own identity. It’s unusual without trying too hard, sophisticated without feeling formal, and quietly captivating. This has become one of the most pleasant surprises in my collection. I never expected to fall in love with it, but now I know a full bottle is in my future.

Sandalwood butter + olibanum-whipped cream Add a touch of resinous spices and the meditative gelato is complete A wonderful Italian rendition of a most peaceful India. Profoundly delicious :))