Iranzol (1975)
by Bruno Acampora

So, this was interesting. I'm still trying to explain to my brain what I felt in my soul. It was confusing. I talked with a fellow basenote member about this as well, and we both had a similar reaction - this scent is sorta eerie! I think there is something about the myrrh note that (at least for me) played with my mind to the point that I had lots of dark, creepy imagery running through my mind.

You need to understand this: I enjoy looking at decrepit buildings, half-sunken ships, derelict and abandoned factories - so spooky/creepy is typically not something I shy from, but instead have a strange push-pull fascination with - but this fragrance is the sort of creepy that makes you feel something is wrong - just off. Other-worldly. In some ways, that makes this scent incredibly fascinating and certainly it is a work of art, however, it's not wearable. That was truly hard to type - after all, this IS a perfume! But I really tried, and while I realize my nose and weird brain have likely combined to come up with some strange and bizarre pairing that won't be an issue for others, still, I felt compelled to report my experience.

Definitely going to explore others in this house!

If possible, I adore this fragrance even more than my beloved Acampora Musc (and that's saying something!). Iranzol smells slightly more "dirty" and heavy than the Musc which contains a tiny minty-clean note that makes it lift and disperse, while Iranzol remains deeply rooted in the earth. And this beautiful, resinous, hay-like scent only gets better as the hours go by. When I wear this, I feel like I am wandering through a gorgeous autumn afternoon way out in the countryside and have stopped long enough for an illicit tryst on the dirt floor of a dusty, hay-and-herb-filled barn. There's something incredibly sensuous about this fragrance, especially in the perfume oil version. It somehow smells both organic and animalic. I don't find it masculine in the least, although I would love to smell it on a guy!

Iranzol opens with a heavy, textured note of jasmin, rich and realistic, on a soft sweet base accord of vanilla, amber, resins and tonka, with hay notes, cedar-like woods, and "something" darker on the very under-base, which I do not get clearly – smells almost like castoreum to me, same ambiguous dense thickness, slightly sweet too (although I doubt it's that note). Bergamot and citrus notes to counter-balance this overall "austerity", ginger root, a rich and tasty fruity/spicy note which may be red pepper, and also a mossy-herbal vibe. The bone-structure is however that narcotic, dry jasmin accord on resins, musk and vanilla. A quite gloomy and nostalgic chypre, enigmatic in its own way, rich and overwhelming with a remarkable "lost times" feel, like Sballo. Then it slowly "blossoms" a powdery side, mellow and aromatic, with violet notes, some more soft woods and a talcum feel, which slightly reminds me of Feminité du Bois, only with a more cloudy, gloomy, musky and masculine twist – and more Mediterranean too, Acampora's true "heritage". This sort of wet, slightly cloudy feel is perhaps one the more interesting key features of this scent, there is this general, palpable but elusive and nondescript humid/windy almost "rural" accord with delivers a bold Mediterranean feel, just in a less predictable way – no spices, no bergamot, no beaches, rather a more countryside-aristocratic, slightly decaying but graceful melancholy and austerity. The drydown (which after a while gets a little cloying on my skin, to be honest) comprises dusty resins, a subtle "roasted caramel" feel, which then eventually ends with a gentle powdery/medicinal accord, much discreet and cozy.

7,5-8/10

Another stunning musk (and far more) for us. Bruno Acampora Iranzol is exotic, organic and gorgeous. A precious quality of musk/galbanum is one of the main olfactory hallmarks. This highly resinous, musky and spicy aroma teleports us along the silky road and straight in to an arabian "a thousands and one nights" type of world full of bewitching Sultain's buildings, minarets, domes, kiosks, harem, persian tapestries, draperies, waxy chandeliers, oil multicolored lamps, dark gold ambiences the air of which is filled by the aroma of burning resins, ancient woods, incenses and balsams. By soon I detect a dominant musk joined by amber, spices (may be nutmeg and pink pepper) and realistic resins as myrrh, incense, galbanum, woodsy resins and further in a way conjuring me more than vaguely another marvellous italian resinous experiment as Maria Candida Gentile's Sideris. The aroma is at the beginning slightly damp due to influence from grass and pollen of voluptuous flowers as rose and jasmine as joined with faint citrus and spices. I don't detect an highly complicated structure or a kaleidoscopic congeries of olfactory "angles" since balsams, resins, creamy woods and musk tend to dissolve in a sort of encompassing linear amalgam which finally performs as a dense and hypnotic musky/spicy/resinous aroma. Sandalwood provides hints of soapiness as joined with vanilla and resins, the vanilla/patchouli accord is minimally dosed while musk and amber are relevant patterns. It seems a touch of not listed cocoa/tobacco provides to round the elements of the dark/gold general ambience. I've tested the EdP and the oils, the latter are an extra-sensorial enveloping (almost spiritual) experience to be worn nor as a fragrance but as a real journey in the tunnel of oriental mysticism.