Azemour les Orangers (2011)
by Parfum d'Empire

It is hard for any fragrance to live up to the hype around Azemour les Orangers. Luca Turin's 5 star review made it sound like the distilled essence of Indiana Jones and Robert Redford in Out of Africa.

Without question, this is an ambitious composition. It has an air of 1940s romance and adventure, filtered through the modern cinematography of Spielberg. I can appreciate it as an homage to the lost beauty of the great Chypres of the past.
I can chuckle at its thumb-in-the-eye disregard for the strictures of IFRA's atranol police. Alas, I cannot wear it.

The beauty of the classic chypres was in their confident but still delicate use of oakmoss as a supporting, atmospheric note. The oakmoss was ever present, but it did not chew the scenery. In Mitsouko, for instance, the creamy peach is the star, singing an aria while the moss provides orchestral depth.

In Azemour, the roles are reversed. An eye-watering moss dominates everything, leaving one to wonder where the juicy bits are hiding. It is Mitsouko in drag.

Overall rating: * * *

It starts off with citrus, more orange than lemon, then together with galbanum and blackcurrent to cool it of and give it some edge. It's very nice, but fades quickly on my arm, and turns into a floral experience and a woody hay, similar to Santa Maria Novella Acqua di Cuba, but without the honey, and more subtle. The end result is a very mild neroli, berry, hay and wood. The subtlety is what makes it wearable. It all mixes together well and nothing is jarring.

I rarely try citrus fragrances because so many are disappointing. They often suffer from the pumpkin carriage tendency, fleeing just as you’re beginning to enjoy yourself. And those that linger are usually too synthetic smelling by half. After one too many bottled screeches, it’s easy to give up. But Luca Turin’s five star review of Azemour Les Orangers piqued my interest enough to order a sample.
This is a perfume with a big personality and a world apart from other citruses out there. It’s based on a juxtaposition of a rich and luxurious blend of citrus notes (leaning towards oranges and mandarins rather than the sharper siblings) and a strong dose of humid soil, full of mould, almost choking. A world championship clash between oriental opulence and chypric ruggedness. My skin, alas, plays up the earthiness, so that what sang sweetly like a siren on a strip of paper pitch shifts considerably. I love that Azemour is so natural, full to the brim and rich, but I’m laid low by the humus – it’s all a bit ‘freshly dug grave in the orange orchard’.
It’s only a good two or three hours into the wear that Azemour settles on my skin, the mulchy soil dying back to a more acceptable level and turning woodier, resinous tones emerging and a bit of candied peel finding its way into the mix. The classic ideals of harmony and restraint now govern and a place has been earned in the gallery of greats. That this place may be right next to Nicolai’s New York has been observed by Turin, who cites Azemour as being a more natural iteration of that idea. Be that as it may, New York is my friend from start to finish, Azemour takes its time to warm to me.

Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background by Vincent Van Gogh 1889

I hate to be the first non-positive reviewer for this scent, but I have to be honest. It doesn't interest or excite me.

I get the sweet orange/cumin burst upon first application. Twenty minutes later this has faded, still there but only slightly. The moss enters to give quiet support. Of the 19 ingredients (the official blurb adds cypress to the list above), I only detect these three.

The other Basenoter noses reviewing on this page are fortunate that they can experience the entire spectrum of notes, but for me it's pretty much a simple linear dark fruit/spice combo. It's nothing like Sous Le Vent, my favorite spice fragrance, (alluded to in another review here), to my nose.

Nice, but not special or outstanding in any way.