ScentOpera

From the Guggenheim Calendar. Ahem:

"The ScentOpera introduces a new art form created by Stewart Matthew based only on smell and sound. Matthew collaborates with renowned fragrance designer Christophe Laudamiel and composers Nico Muhly and Valgeir Sigurdsson. Original scents and music will be performed in the dark via a customized scent organ for a world premiere unlike any other. The creation of the ScentOpera is supported by Fläkt Woods, Thierry Mugler Parfums, and Arup."

It's been pointed out to me that "customized scent organ" is a dodgy term to use in polite company, so... sorry about that.

I actually was so taken by the concept that I purchased the tickets, and only then really registered the names of the sponsors. If you've been reading the blog, you may very well have had the same reaction to one of the names as I did: specifically, a sudden and vehement exclamation of "MUGLER!". But I don't think that Mugler's had anything to do with the actual scent collection itself, and to be fair I ended up being rather intrigued by "Alien".

I'm totally fascinated by the concept, of course. It's not far off what I do now anyhow; splash on perfume, close my eyes and sniff, usually with music playing somewhere in the background. But the designer of this extravaganza promises that some of the smells are not going to be particularly pleasant, and I'll be surrounded by other people in the dark.... I'm anticipating an experience very close to tripping on LSD, to be honest. Especially since at least one of those composers is Icelandic, and everyone knows that 70% of Icelanders believe in elves.

The event's in about a week, and I promise to report back. Unless Mugler IS participating olfactorily, in which case I will be sadly deceased.

Thierry Mugler "Alien"

I can't find a proper picture of the "Alien" bottle. Suffice it to say, it looks like a prop off the set of Stargate. To the right: an artist's rendering of the scent.

Selfridges had the entire entryway into the perfume hall set up to launch this fragrance. Women standing around, strategically zapping people as they walked by; a huge screen with an extra-terrestrial looking model apparently oblivious to the dangerous yellow octopus perched atop her head; displays with the various packagings on little plinths; the word "Alien" all over the place in Spooky Serial Killer font. Aside from the ET push, the theme seemed to be "Purple!". With a thought for the buspeople, I declined to get spritzed (get thee behind me, Mugler!) and instead made off with a tiny purple vial for later use.

On first application? BAM. Seriously, I sometimes wonder if Thierry Mugler could take the extended break between "Angel" and "Alien" because they've actually branched out into the development of chemical weaponry for shady government departments. If you like "Angel"'s sillage, you've got another contender here. But this isn't a gourmand scent on me -- unfortunately, what I immediately identified was the smell of tiger lily. Tiger lilies: beautiful, exquisite flowers that have the most appalling stink in close quarters, with pollen that will stain your clothes and never, ever wash out. "Alien" is like living in the heart of that deep lily throat, covered in rank pollen. It turned my stomach a little, it was so aggressive. I actually left Starbucks because I was self-conscious at how much this fragrance stank.

Once home, though, I began to come around. An hour and a half in, the green and jasmine notes asserted themselves, and the sillage died WAY down. There's something lurking underneath all of that green, something that is definitely out of place logically but also smells rather nice (it turns out to be a marine note, which intensifies as the day wears on until it becomes the dominant drydown note). The vanillin is very understated as well, emerging and taking over a few of the green notes as time goes on. The woodsy scent's been around since the tiger lily left, but in the background, eventually blending with the vanilla in a way that knocks any sticky-sweetness off.

Here's a bit of weirdness: my clothes still smell like the tiger lily-stage, but my skin moved on to woodsy green-vanilla and is rapidly giving up the ghost entirely only three hours on, leaving the strong marine element. Hm. The sillage die-off will disappoint fans of "Angel", and I'm leery of the tiger lily pollen. I admit that the stages after the opening are winning me over; it's a very eccentric scent, certainly not easy to pin down.

Verdict: A very nice and unusual fragrance, but not truly out of this world solely due to the opening. A very good alternate Mugler for those who can't stomach "Angel", I'd guess.