The cult of Mnemosyne hangs limp over the world of perfumery. It is now, by and large, the task of the perfumer to conjure an impression of place, space, time, in much a similar fashion to the ancient practices of ‘mnemotechnics’ — memorisation and conjuration of images that involves the entire embodied psyche to function. ‘Inspired by the French Riviera’, ‘Inspired by the streets of New York’, ‘Inspired by 1890s London’, and so on ad infinitum. Sometimes, this act of impressing memory via the olfactive falls short. There’s a weird unease that settles on the senses when smelling a perfume that is too obviously and too artificially attempting to engage the wearer in this type of conjuration — it falls by way of pastiche, further still to parody, until it lands into the pit of unfashionable. I’m thinking particularly of D.S and Durga’s Cowboy Grass (sorry!), or even D.S and Durga’s Jazmín Yucatan (sorry again, I think maybe I need to re-try these perfumes, but I found them deeply underwhelming in a way I was not expecting), or Penhaligon’s Oud perfume range.
Sometimes, this impression works beyond comprehension.
This is how I feel about Anima Dulcis 2023, helmed by Mexican perfume house Arquiste. Rarely do I feel so deeply affected by a perfume than this, in part due to the fact that it simply works well with my skin, but mainly due to its phantasmic qualities of evocation. Inspired by 17th century viceregal México, the perfume manages to capture a rare seismic olfactory effect.
The perfume is anchored by Mexican vanilla bean, cocoa bean and chypre — a foundation of sweet, bitter, woody. The heart contains clove, cumin, huele-de-noche (night jasmine), and a combination of smoked chilis — ancho, guajillo, chipotle. The top, which lightly dances over the heady bases — sesame seed, Mexican cinnamon bark, and Mexican oregano. On first spray, the toasted sesame dominates the profile, leaving a lingering nutty sweetness that binds everything underneath. Sweet, bitter, spicy, anis, floral, smoky. What it produces is not just a simple gourmand scent; but a powerful evocation of the act of cooking itself. It traces the olfactory sensations of the place of cooking — in this instance the Convent of Jesús María in Mexico City. Carlos Huber, Arquiste’s founder, has a history in cultural preservation and architectural research. This scent makes this focus so uniquely clear it teeters on the edge of uncanny. It therefore, more-so than most perfumes who attempt to recreate a spatial and temporal context in their perfumes — anchors it in a specificity that endows the scent with a rich, complex and sensual palette. The mineral notes of terra cotta tiling, the wooden beams, and the stucco walls collide with the gourmand-based notes specific to the cuisine of Mexico City and beyond — smoked chilis, vanilla, sesame, oregano, and cacao. The act is coupled with the place, nestled in the complex matrices of colonial history and indigenous practice; an incredibly skilful exposition of olfactive power that is rare to come by.
This perfume is truly special, and several others in their catalogue are also this impressive, namely Peau, which I also adore. However, the one huge downside is its stomach-churning price, available at £180 for 100ml. However, samples of this are available on the Bloom Perfumery website, and that’s how I’ve been enjoying it (by now I’m on my third sample).
Pairs well with: reading Roberto Bolaño on an airplane, lighting a candle in a cathedral in southern Europe, sitting with friends on a back-garden patio until the sunrise washes over you, drinking vermouth alone, The Exterminating Angel, and cooking for someone you love.
10/10 could not possibly be rated higher.
Isidro Escamilla, Virgin of Guadalupe, September 1, 1824. Found on the Brooklyn Museum’s website.