As I was writing my recently
posted two-part piece on the Arquiste collection I wondered what would come
next from the prodigiously talented triumvirate of Carlos Huber, Rodrigo
Flores-Roux and Yann Vasnier. Then, part way through my extensive note making
and sampling, the lovely Ruth at Bloom Perfumery (now sadly moved on…) sent me
a sample of a new Arquiste perfume that Carlos has shown the Bloom team at a
floral themed Arquiste event earlier in the year.
Arquiste Instagram teaser image.. |
The sample was Nanban. It was astonishing. At the time,
I had no notes to go with it so I wore it blind, free from trying to locate
specific effects and notes in the mix. I set it aside and waited until I was
really ready to do it justice. I had been struggling with a weird dose of
asnomia from a viral infection and just wasn’t sure if I wasn’t smelling things
correctly or even at all to be honest. I had a surreal moment sampling gardenia
perfumes and had to stop. I just couldn’t tell if I perceived olfactory
inflections of gardenia or just inhaling my own memory paintings of the bloom. It
was both harrowing and immensely unsettling.
Carlos Huber & Rodrigo Flores-Roux taking mischievous shots of yet to be launched Nanban... |
After a month or so,
my olfactory senses rebalanced. I reached a point of equilibrium; a necessary
if rather nasty regimen of meds seemed to unlock the grace and recognition of
my aromatic abilities. As I so often do, I wore Nanban to bed. The weather was close, I always sleep with notebooks
by my bed in case I need to write things down, it’s a hangover from teenage
dream journals. I knew Nanban was
different as soon it curled like careful bonfire over skin.
Nanban is invasively atmospheric, I felt cradled, kept. I knew as I drifted off into turbulent sleep I was sensing distant leather and myrrh. I could feel the bushfire of cade and something muted and drifting. I later found out this was a black tea accord. I noted down it smelled of ‘swollen wood & dank saddle’ and that the final stages had a ‘powerful evocation of altars and sacrificial spaces’. I scribbled ‘sweetness????’ across a page, unable to pinpoint the exact effect. Not vanilla absolute or dried fruit but something darker. Coffee absolute I realised when I received my notes from Carlos, a subtle, swirling application of roasted shadow rather than out and out sugar.
Nanban is invasively atmospheric, I felt cradled, kept. I knew as I drifted off into turbulent sleep I was sensing distant leather and myrrh. I could feel the bushfire of cade and something muted and drifting. I later found out this was a black tea accord. I noted down it smelled of ‘swollen wood & dank saddle’ and that the final stages had a ‘powerful evocation of altars and sacrificial spaces’. I scribbled ‘sweetness????’ across a page, unable to pinpoint the exact effect. Not vanilla absolute or dried fruit but something darker. Coffee absolute I realised when I received my notes from Carlos, a subtle, swirling application of roasted shadow rather than out and out sugar.
Foxy notes.. |
I think Nanban will thrill and dazzle Arquiste fans;
it retains all the sophisticated storytelling hallmarks of Carlos & Co.’s
vibrant work, but this new perfume I think has a deeper resonance and marks
perhaps a weightier step forward in terms of style and effect. It feels different,
more profound, haunted with research and attention to detail. I found myself
lost in the woody gourmand beauty and the secretive spaces in between the notes
where the effects transition and glide, creating a near seamless sense of
cultural biography and applied technical olfaction.
Carlos in Moray Place Gardens in Edinbrugh... (car sadly not his..) |
There was a strange
coincidence as I prepared to publish my Arquiste piece, Carlos Huber very
spookily happened to be in Edinburgh on holiday. It kinda threw me, seeing his Instagram
pics of my haunted, lovely city, his choice of buildings and handsome visage in
places I knew like the back of my hand. We contacted each other and he said
he’d pop by my store and say hello.
Carlos in Florence for Pitti 2015 |
Meeting Carlos was a
pleasure, he is a gentleman and gentle soul, wickedly handsome of course, but
more than that, genuinely kind and charismatic. He exudes passion and integrity
for his wonderful brand but also he has a sincerity and old-fashioned boyish
charm that I feel makes him irresistible to anyone who meets him. There is
fierce intelligence in his beauty though; Carlos takes his research and
olfactory development very seriously. His years of architectural training and
passion for restoration and historical detailing have informed his olfactive
desires and inquisitive nature with originality and polished exploration.
Arquiste hero image for Nanban |
Nanban has a compelling, vibrant narrative, inspired by a singular expedition
undertaken between 1613 and 1620 by a retainer of the Tokugawa Shogunate called
Hasekura Tsunenaga. He travelled with an embassy of 180 companions to visit
Pope Paul V in the Vatican, stopping off to discuss potential trade possibilities
with the Royal Court in Spain. But most importantly for Carlos and the creation
of Nanban, the delegation visited
Mexico in Nueva España on its
momentous voyage, arriving at Acapulco, travelling overland and departing from
Veracruz. On the return leg from Europe the diplomatic delegation departed from
Veracruz to Manila in the Philippines where Tsunenaga and his men spent two
years before retuning to Japan. This mission voyage became known as the Keichō
Embassy.
The word nanban literally translates as southern barbarian and was originally
used to describe foreigners arriving from the southern seas into Japan. The
word became particularly associated with the increasing and influential influx
of Portuguese and Spanish traders and religious missions in the mid 1500s.
Detail from nanban style painted screen 1513-1600 attributed to Kano Domi |
I first came across
the term during a fine art stint back at the National Museums of Scotland in the Department
of History and Applied Art, now sadly dissolved into something more PC and
dull. I worked as an assistant Curator with the Chinese, Japanese and Korean
collections and to help boost my knowledge, I would come in early and spend time
either wandering the display cases or go deep into the cellars excavating the
collections not on display. Cupboards and drawers loaded with jades, porcelain,
metalwork, costume, textiles, armour and religious regalia. This kind of
immersion was the only way to soak up the vibrations of such magical gathered
objects.
Detail from nanban style painted screen C1600, of Portugese man viewing peacock, attributed to Kano School |
Nanban has evolved into a term used to describe a particular style of
16th and 17th Japanese art that has western influences,
introducing shadows, perspective and western subject matter; armour, weapons,
dress hunting and trade scenes. The folding screen was a particularly favourite
medium for this style of art. Not much Nanban
work has survived; it was a relatively short-lived movement if it can even be
referred to as that and a lot of the art was supressed afterwards over fears
about the rise of Catholicism and the westernisation of Japanese culture.
Date Masumune, of
the Tokugawa Shogunate, 1st Lord and Daimyo of the Sendai Domain was
in office from 1600-1636, a charismatic and powerful leader, he was missing an
eye and known as the One-Eyed Dragon. Renowned for his wearing of the
traditional crescent moon style helmet, Date Masamune decided to back and fund
this unprecedented expedition to the new world, sending one of his loyal
retainers Hasekura Tsunenaga and a collection of like-minded followers to
Europe.
Date Masumune, Daimyo of Sendai |
The Tokugawa
Shogunate was the last feudal military government in Japan, ruling from 1603 to
1868, all members of the ruling class were part of the powerful Tokugawa clan. In
1613 Masamune had interceded on behalf of a Catholic missionary named Father
Sotelo who had been condemned to death for preaching Christianity. He was released
into the protection of Masumune and it was the relationship between the two men
and the Lord’s growing interest in Christian teachings that led to him
supporting the complex, historical mission to Europe.
The black-hulled
500-ton galleon, San Juan Bautista,
built by Japanese craftsmen to European specifications set sail from Japan in
October 1613. There is a replica of the ship in Ishinomaki in Miyagi
Prefecture.
Replica of the San Juan Bautista in Ishinomaki |
It is important to emphasise just how significant this mission was
in terms of cultural curiosity. After this brief period of interest in the
outside world, Japan effectively shut down her borders to all incomers,
fostering an intense mistrust of any external interference. Much of this was
fuelled by a deep-rooted dislike of the reach and perceived fanaticism of the
Catholic Church. It wasn’t really again until the 19th century that
Japan started to drop the opaque veil of secrecy, obfuscation and
misinformation that had built up over the years.
However the galleon
set sail, swollen with hope and anticipation, the assembly of men aboard, more
than aware I would imagine of the import of their journey and the stories and
cargoes they might return with. Their dreams impregnated with fantastical imaginings
of what would come tinged with apprehension, pride and sadness at leaving
friends, loved ones and a homeland behind.
Nanban by Arquiste |
Carlos and Rodrigo
have set a seriously redolent and beguiling scene for their followers with Nanban, this image of the dark-hulled
mysterious galleon setting sail to distant lands groaning with pioneers,
ambassadors and gatherers. The thrill of acquisition must have been exquisite,
collecting new spices, victuals, precious woods, stones and metals, bolts of
cloth, resins and balms. And of course stories and experiences. Just reading
the inspiration sets fire to the imagination, so many olfactive conceptions and
abstractions thrown upon the fertile pyre. It is virtually impossible to wear
the scent without this extraordinary story sailing through your mind.
Nanban style galleon painting on lacquer screen |
Nanban is a scent of revelations, notes within notes, effects seeping
into accords, staining and influencing scented outcomes. The scent is a
leathered cradle of olfaction, odours seeping into one another like tumbling,
mingled cargoes. Smoked tea and peppered hide, saffron and coffee, rubbed
resins roll on wood, weathered with salt and storm. It is a dark perfume, an odour
of below decks, of pitching bundles, bound miasmic cargo gathered over seven
careful years.
I am struck initially
by the sweet malevolence of cade, frankincense and disquieting myrrh; they sulk
through the initial hit of bittersweet heat but then settle into the warm
embracing hull of notes built to safeguard the other materials. The marriage of
east and west, of spices and woods, smoke and mysterious shade develops with
consummate diplomacy and balanced skill. I loved the lingering, loitering singe
of lightly toasted coffee and quiet smoked quality of the tea. The ingredients
in Nanban have a preserved tenacious
effect to them, an effect that transfers powerfully to skin. There is a tightness and control around the materials. Each note is self-aware
but also synthesises, compliments and occasionally throws shade at fellow
travelling accords and effects. The myrrh and Spanish-tinted leather roll back
and forth across the composition in gleeful doses; sometimes rich and abrasive,
other times soft and gentle like the touch of a gloved hand. Nanban is moody and persuasive, an
august study of elegant and covetable influences.
It is interesting
for a perfume about sea voyages that Nanban
has no olfactory reference to the ocean, no salinity, ozonic or aquatic
overlays. No hint of tempest, ocean spray or sea breeze in its alchemical
assembly. The normal associative limpid, cool inhalation of ozonic scents has
been slowly re-emerging from the looming monolithic shadow cast by the
megabucks progenitors of the trend such as Issey
Miyake, Davidoff’s Cool Water, Armani’s Aqua di Gio and CK1. Niche artists such as Pierre Guillaume, Josh Meyer and Gabriella
Chieffo have all created beautiful and inventive riffs on the ozonic theme.
The aromachemistry of
ozonics is now so complex and arguably so much more beautiful that the aquatic
fragrances we are see being created now are vastly superior to the old style
fuzzy ancestors, playing with manifold variations of water, liquids, air, fictions and textures. Luca Maffei’s
recent Aquasala for Gabriella Chieffo
is a gorgeous, slippery aquatic, rich with saline-drenched floral notes that
seem to glow in the dark. It smells like rising dough, pollen and salted skin.
A quite remarkable scent that grew on me considerably after initially finding
it a tad underwhelming. I’m glad I persisted. More will come this this from the
niche sector; it will be interesting to see how the stories unfold.
In Pierre’s case,
his entire Collection Croisière is
influenced by water, holidays, voyages, movement and travel. They are some of
the most intriguing scents I have sampled in recent years. The pacific algae
extraction he has used in Entre Ciel et
Mer is ice cold and as blue as sapphire. Even the stalwart British house
Penhaligon’s has just launched two aquatics, Blasted Heath and Blasted
Bloom side by side, created by the father of CK1, Master Perfumer Alberto Morillas. They sit strangely at odds
with the house’s rather chaotic fragrance collection yet somehow work rather brilliantly,
with damp heath effects and whiffs of coastal roar.
Nanban is a voyage of the mind as well as a hulled galleon; everything
is suggested by Rodrigo’s cargo of materials gathered to provide a subliminal
portrait of Hasekura Tsunenaga’s odyssey. I think any hint of ocean or salt
breeze would have seriously interrupted or diminished the concentrated storytelling
drive of Arquiste’s resurrected galleon/perfume that floats across the skin
evocative with divine consignment.
The intermittent aridity
of the mix is delicious; Arquiste scents tend to fall into the lush floral and
celebratory citric side of olfactive fictions with perhaps the exception of Anima Dulica’s secretive cocoa unfolding
and the mournful tundra blast of Aleksandr.
And while not actually listed as a note, Nanban
has a lovely suggestion of pipe tobacco as it begins to properly drop into the
skin, tobacco laced with cherries and bigarade. The drawn out linger of the
base notes is intelligent and long. I find something in a lot of modern
perfumery, both niche and mainstream that the more profound base effects are
often neglected and marginalised in favour of more generic morass of vanillic
woods, ouds and anorexic ambers.
The recent Dior
men’s über-launch Sauvage is a
classic example of this. Dior is still trying to repeat the giddy success of
the original Dior Homme by Olivier Polge.
But the key to that was its alien androgyny; the cocoa and iris dusting that
made you feel like Bowie’s man who fell to earth. Sauvage is just another poorly executed attempt to scale the
heights of Chanel’s global juggernaut Bleu, which in itself was an attempt to
copy Dior Homme. These feeble
emasculated boy-scents have poisonously dull drydowns and repetitively tiresome
effects that echo so many other cloned aromas. Even in the niche arena there
are many tedious and un-inspired re-treads of generic masculine tropes.
Rodrigo Flores-Roux in the Palais Royale (source Arquiste Instagram) |
It is a feature of Nanban and its giddy predecessor Architect’s Club that the detailed
attention paid to the gradual melting points of the base notes is particularly
high. The substance and sophistication is palpable and Rodrigo’s lavish and
velveteen use of styrax beneath the inky tea and coffee heart notes is
something I savour each time I wear Nanban.
I have a huge obsession with saffron in perfumes and in this carefully gathered
journey, the Persian saffron is radiantly creamy and seems to glimmer like gold
leaf amid the woods, spices and resins. My nose inhales the effects like actual
fibres off my skin. Each time I return to Nanban,
the osmanthus note is more noticeable, marrying so elegantly with the coolness
of the tea accord, providing momentarily an aromatic pause of clear, high
contemplation.
Hasekura Tsunenaga reached
Mexico in 1614, where he met with the Mexican Viceroy. The galleon was loaded
with vanilla, coffee, spices, vegetables, gold and art. Traveling across the
Atlantic to Spain, the intrepid and curious Japanese envoy met with Philip III
of Spain and was finally baptised officially into the Christian church in 1615,
taking the baptismal name Francisco Felipe Faxicura. This sojourn in Spain was
not successful, the growing subjugation and persecution back in Japan of
Catholic priests and those caught practising Catholicism meant that the Philip
and his ministers did not look favourably on a country attempting to crush his
beloved faith.
Detail from portrait of Hasekura Tsunenaga by Architi Ricci |
We have to consider
the logistics and emotional bravery of this delegation. The journey itself from
Japan to Europe via the Americas and then the extended travels through Europe
to Italy to greet the Pontiff and spiritual leader of the Catholic church. For
the time ands the vessel it was incredible. There is an amazing painting of
Hasekura Tsunenaga (see above and below )made in Rome in 1571 by the artist Archita Ricci. The envoy
stands proud in his traditional Japanese hakama
trousers with a pair of swords tucked into the waist. The painting is very
western in execution though, the envoy’s pose, the small dog, symbolising
loyalty at his feet. To his right at the back through an open window the Holy
Spirit in dove form glows fire over a depiction of the San Juan Bautista.
Detail from portrait of Hasekura Tsunenaga by Architi Ricci (image of San Juan Bautista to the right) |
The symbolism and
potential shockwaves of their visit and homage in Rome would have been widely
felt at home in the seething political arena of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Six
newly converted members of the embassy remained in Spain fearful of oppression
and retribution if they returned to a turbulent Japan. Indeed, the friar Father
Sotelo was re-arrested and burned on his return to Japan and sadly Hasekura’s
son, wife and servants were later killed during anti-Christian purges.
This overall
confabulation of excitement, exploration, trepidation, verve, faith, culture
and politics is a fascinating brew and a perfect basis for heady olfaction.
Carlos and team Arquiste have excelled themselves. I’m pleased I’m wore this
blind as it were for so long, it allowed me to lose myself in the fabric and
build of Nanban with out the
diversion of notes and effects. Of course this was irritating at times, my natural
instincts kept questioning what I was detecting in the drag and shift of
accords and blended warp. I kept sensing the darker gourmand dust of coffee and
spiced tea in the spaces between the oscillations of wood and spice.
Coffee cargo.. sisal sacks.. |
Nanban has a glowing, raised majesty and tenacious sensuality on skin.
The careful collision of cultures that so fascinated Carlos and that he
explained to me in Edinburgh with such passion has been executed with sumptuous
brio. It feels heart and soul like an Arquiste scent, polished, built with
style, love and skill and yet somehow feels bravely different, like watching
someone stepping outside their front door in clothes they would not normally
wear yet carrying them off with panache and then some. The storytelling is
perfect; real, resonant and emotional. Carlos has found in Hasekura Tsunenaga a
powerful aromatic conduit for his perfumed vision and in the looming, roaming
simulacrum of Arquiste’s dark hulled Japanese galleon traversing momentous
oceans a near perfect symbol of scent. A vessel swollen with rare and exquisite
aromas, gathered, tumbled, tainted, stained, ambrosial and singular.
Nanban carries you on with it as it travels through its manifold
effects and influences. It begins with as flourish of smoky, leathered intent,
bold and emotive, shot through with the melancholy tendency of saffron, a note
that just always seems to move me. The swell and development of notes is
divinely mature, everything in its correct place, tea, coffee and osmanthus
sitting just so over a carefully judged yet extravagantly plush base of
styrax-coated woods and balms. The cade is the final beautiful thing, a tiny
fire lit in that initially detected sacrificial
space of darkness to keep the cargo dry on its pungent journey home.
The Silver Fox
10 September 2015
To read more information on Nanban and the Arquiste collection of fragrances, please click on the link below:
Perfumes that tell a story or reflect a particular time in history are of the most interest to me so it was with great anticipation that I ordered a sample of Nanban. It has arrived and I am standing at the rail as the ship plows through endless seas. I love Nanban immensely and now having read your luminous essay I know why. Thank you for having written such an intelligent and evocatve review.
ReplyDeletethank you RueBoheme for your kind words and atmospheric reaction to Nanban... it truly is a scent of transportation and dreams. enjoy...
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA stunning review, as majestic as the scent it is meant to convey. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteim blushing MarDeFior... but thank you.. . x
Delete