Azabache Chapter 2

Azabache Chapter 2 — a five-act tragedy in resins The declared notes promise pink pepper, geranium, and bergamot in the top; lily of the valley, rose, and verbena in the heart. It sounds rather fresh — until one actually smells it. The fragrance began as a limited edition from Czech maison Pigmentarium, later rereleased in revised form as Chapter 2 — a solution that kept the original limitation technically intact while satisfying the market. The two are probably distinct fragrances, though in a similar spirit; at any rate, the difference is larger than that between Cervantes's Don Quixote and Pierre Menard's. What arrives on application is immediately, powerfully familiar — and emphatically not pepper or geranium. Some years ago I worked as a guide in a Bohemian château; the best time to walk those old interiors was Tuesday morning, before tourists and school parties had breathed the air. There was a smell to those rooms: old furniture treated with waxes, shellacs, and cedar oils approved by the conservation authorities. Azabache opens in that spirit, though with considerably more force — less the château itself than the restoration workshop, where resins and oils sit in open tins. What is happening is that the base notes have refused to wait for their cue: frankincense, labdanum, cedar, myrrh — in synthetic reconstruction — combine with the terpenic sharpness of bergamot and pepper to conjure the sudden illusion of turpentine and linseed oil. Forceful, unexpected, and entirely unobjectionable. This is, in the end, a five-act composition. From the workshop one moves to a courtyard, where lily of the valley gradually asserts itself among the resins — clarifying the air without yet reading as floral. Then inward again, to a nave where flowers have been arranged around a catafalque. Then, as the florals recede, to a monastic library: resins again, but quieter now, stripped of terpenic sharpness. The final act is a soliloquy in an empty chapel — frankincense no longer as resin but as something long since absorbed into the pews, the draperies, the confessionals. Azabache is the Spanish word for jet — the gemstone, black and warm to the touch, associated since antiquity with mourning and protection. Isidore of Seville wrote about it in the seventh century; Queen Victoria made it fashionable in Britain; Spanish widows had worn it for centuries before her. The image of a catafalque had presented itself before I knew any of this. Make of it what you will. Decidedly not a floral fragrance. Wearable across most of the year save high summer; projection and longevity generous without being brutal. A singular composition. This is an abridged English version of a longer review in Czech, available at evernilus.substack.com. English version prepared with Claude (Anthropic).

Opening this second chapter is truely pleasant. The perfume has intorverted side of the first one but because of spicy top notes attracts attention. Bergamot and geranium are present from start to end, bringing citrus and green nuances. The heart of the scent which should be mostly about the rose is not exactly flowery: I sence verbena more, actually. Softly herbal aroma goes nicely with the initial notes and develops into solid chord for the labdanum base. Incense and cedar in warm, smoky touch define the final composition. The perfume is a full experience. It is meditative but not detached. Chapter 2 has a warm, tasteful and alluring character. Niche quality indeed: I am impressed and looking forward to next chapters with Pigmentarium! --- Projection is intimate, which suits the fragrance best. Longevity about 4-5 hours.

Really incredible collaboration, this is a beautifully crafted fragrance that offers a journey through romance and spirituality. It is complex and elegant.

Keeps the vibe of Azabache but makes it easier to wear.

A quite unusual scent. A bright and green opening, with the bergamot standing out. Soon it develops into a a slightly herbal floral on an incense and resins background. I don't feel much amber warmth, but the cedar peeks out in the dry down. Overall it's very pleasant, and for me something I would wear mainly in spring, or maybe late summer / early autumn.