Rauque

Here is Roberto Greco's third olfactory project, Rauque, composed by none other than Christopher Sheldrake. Sheldrake is quite possibly my favorite nose ever, therefore, I was beyond excited when hearing the news. Moreover, working with Roberto for the third Objet Parfumant, a series which till now, has been a fantastic journey. In my opinion, Rauque is the most triumphant of all three. Rauque is a difficult-to-grasp perfume. It smells, unlike anything I ever tried. The evolution, the choice of materials, the strong contrasts, the very personal and complex idea/experience that ignited it, and even the bottle's design are dead giveaways of this. It feels like Dr. Frenkenstin's monster who learned how to behave like a highly sophisticated, intellectual human being. It's an oddity, yet refined. An example of how to create an artisanal/artistic complex piece of olfactory art while making sure that at the end of the day, it smells and wears like it's intended to, a perfume. When I first looked at the note pyramid I thought to myself, "This can't work, the notes are too contradictory". And yet it does. Here is where Sheldrake's genius steps in. The perfume to me feels like an Agrestic Leather-Orientlal. The first half, the top and the heart precisely, remind me of smells I encountered as a child in the countryside. The base or the late dry-down, smells of resins and smoke, for the most part, hence, the Oriental part of the perfume. The opening is tangy, soapy, fatty, verdant, and somehow fizzy-ozonic. It's bright and dominated by the tart and sharp smell of the blackcurrant bud, as well as the green-ozonic violet leaf. There is a strong soap-like accord, but not what you'd expect. It smells like the handmade soaps my grandparents used to make from pig fat and sodium salts. No additives or perfume added. Fizzy and fatty. I assume the combination of narcissus, violet leaf, and olive create this phantom accord that feels very tangible to me. A handmade soap, tangy blackcurrant, grassy, and clean air accords. The mid is all about the florals and the leather accord. I see Cassie flower listed, yet unfortunately for me, it's not the dominant floral here. It does play its part though. It lends its hay-like facet and subtle honey-like sweetness. The Osmanthus shares a bit of its fruity facet to help perpetuate the fruitiness from the opening, but more importantly, it helps build up the leather accord. The dominant floral here, however, is the Narcissus. A floral that was proudly used in the previous Objet Parfumant, Porter Sa Peau. It doesn't smell like the absolute, more like the flower in nature. The leather accord veers strongly into the equestrian territory. It feels alive, oily, creamy, almost drawing warm breath. Another important note to mention here is the pine tar, already exuding its characteristic smoky-woody quality. The mushroom is very subtle, again, unfortunately for me, but it helps to instill life into the leather by conjuring an organic quality. The base pushes forward with the leather and the smoky pine tar to which the labdanum derivate Ambrarome is added, displaying leathery, smoky, ambergris-like facets, as well as myrrh for the extra nutty, chewy resinous touch. It settles down as a smoky resinous leather oozing warmth and pleasantly smoky wafts for hours on end. All in all, one of the best releases of last year, triumphant in so many ways and on so many levels. A tremendous achievement when an artistic mind meets another and the talent of a Master Perfumer is put to great use. I hope that there will be more to see from Sheldrake under an independent creative direction, hopefully in more projects like this one, and I am excited for Roberto's future L'Objet Parfumant. IG:@memory.of.scents

Top notes of blackcurrant bud and violet leaf; heart notes of acacia, mushroom, myrrh, narcissus, and osmanthus; base notes of ambarome, leather, and pine tar. To describe Rauque this way unacceptably reductive. It is so much more than a collection of accords. The name translates to hoarse, which is a bit confusing. Hoarse, as most would think of it, is the sound of a voice after it has over-strained itself for too long; raspy, thin, distorted, the metallic taste in the back of your throat from worn and irritated flesh. I don't get an impression of that at all with Rauque. Rather, to my nose, it is very rich, dense, but far from being lumpen and impenetrable; it's breathable and alive. The elegant dance those notes perform with each other is exquisite, constantly shifting shape, form, and speed. There is nothing tired, raspy, thin, distorted or worn out about this perfume - it has an energy that is restrained but strong, like a rubber band not quite stretched to the breaking point but on its way to being. Another defining characteristic is that it is extremely reminiscent of classic masculine perfumes with its pipe tobacco accords, leathers, incense, earthiness, and resinous green notes. Though, you are far from able to say that this is derivative as it feels very modern, new, and youthfully energetic. Despite being called Hoarse, its volume never goes above speaking voice, but it is very much confident, very much powerful and strong, and bold enough to make a firm statement. Looking back over the words I've written so far and how vague and metaphorical they are, the more I smell this perfume on me and the more I think about it, the more unhappy I am with my description and the more I struggle for clarity (maybe I'll be back for an edit with more thoughts after several more wears). It does what the best perfumes of all time do: deliver a message in a totally convincing way, making you think hard and engage the entire time, but never so challenging that you are off-put. It is, without question, one of the best perfumes I have smelled in years.

The shuffling of elements, shimmering, oily, and alive, Rauque is the ultimate dépaysement for my weary mind. I've long been drawn to the unconventional beauty of the undergrowth and the unlikely spiritual vitality that can be drawn from the almost alien organisms that communicate through profoundly complex networks for which we've only scratched the surface in understanding. Rauque is the fantasy of being welcomed into their world. Much like Roberto Greco's arresting photography for which this is paired, Rauque feels amorphous, varied in focus and surreal, while giving the impression of both childlike wonder and simmering carnality. I am reminded of the nearly over ripened berries I'd pick with my mother along the cranberry bogs as a child here in New England, sticky sweetness, and the occasional insect friend to be plucked off and sent on it's way. I think of the examinations of mushrooms that spring out of nowhere after it rains and breathing in the aroma of the pine straw carpet, tawny in color. The undercurrent has an emergent feral texture, horse stables and distant pastures, the most well-loved worn leather. Christopher Sheldrake employs Ambrarome, a distillate of labdanum produced by Synarome that highlights the olfactory qualities in the ethyl esters of labdanum. It's warm, animalic, peppery, and tarry, with a leathery and ambergris-like core. It's a stunning material and used to great effect here. I am transfixed by Rauque in its oblique angles and dusty, textured atmosphere; it arrests me as droning music would (listen to Harmonia's "Sometimes in Autumn" as it makes a great pairing). The urgency of work and structure falls out, I am left feeling like a sensory organism, breathing, heart beating, perspiring, still as a turtle on a fallen limb, bathing in the sunlight. It feels alive. I feel alive.

Another abstract wonder from Roberto Greco. As soon as you read the description you know you have to try it - a body about to implode, the waxy basement of a mushroom farm, a doughy Alep soap... Count me in. I love the interplay between the dust and the wax, and there is a subtle sweetness that gives the scent a lift and prevents it from smelling dank like other mushroom scents. The cassia note keeps going for hours with a tinge of sour decay over the leather and myrhh. I would probably just wear this at home, I don't know what kind of occasion this would fit. It's a strange, contemplative fragrance, you want to put on some weird music. The bottle looks masculine, but I find this very unisex, truly genderless, pay no heed to the votes on this. To me, it has that "robust dust" texture of L'Air De Rien, but more subversive versus sophisticated. Rauque is certainly the most universally appealing of this creator's current offerings. It's less melancholy and more wearable than Oeilleres. Of course I love Porter Sa Peau but that is distinctly feminine. Overall, compelling and I look forward to exploring it more. Update March 2024: The march 22 episode of the Fragaphilia podcast mentioned the resemblance between Rauque and L’Air de Rien and I feel so validated

My bottle finally arrived. Oh boy... oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I’ve never sniffed anything like this before. Five hours into the wear and... I’m gobsmacked. It’s just ridiculous. I’d tried a mini sample but there’s something about spraying it on copiously that changes everything. I don’t really know how to describe it yet. It feels like it’s alive. Literally. Like I’ve doused myself with the vital fluid of a living, breathing, throbbing alien being that inhabits the cloud forest and hosts within it a cornucopia of organisms, both carnal and ethereal. Mycelium, humus, exotic florals... fairies and spirits. A feral creature that exudes a dizzying warmth through every pore of its leathery epidermis, and exhales a boozy, sticky sweet, peppery, ambergris-like breath. The terpenes from pine straw filling the air as it lightly treads over fallen leaves and the undergrowth... What the hell is going on here? Am I falling in love? I’ll do a proper review once I’ve wrapped my head around it. I’m intoxicated and swooning.