Looking Up by Texas Artist Irby Pace
“Memories, imagination, old sentiments, and associations are more readily reached through the sense of smell than through any other channel.” –Oliver Wendell Holmes
There’s much to be said about a fragrance that evokes strong memories and even more so to be said about the perfumer who creates such a beautiful fragrance. Hans Hendley is an independent perfumer and the creator of Fume, a fragrance enveloped in smoke and cloaked in winter warmth.
Hans Hendley of Handley Perfumes
As a Texas native, now residing in Brooklyn, NY, Hans spent much of his early childhood in the woods of East Texas being inspired by the smell of pine trees, sticky sap, fresh soil, and moss covered oak. On Hans' site there is this phrase: “On the outskirts…a curious discovery awaits” and what a curious discovery Fume is. I first experienced Fume in the winter of 2014 and I immediately fell in love, it’s an olfactory camping trip where the nose is greeted by burning embers and mossy pathways and the heart is clothed in dirt covered denim, a flannel shirt, and worn leather boots. It’s a cold season fragrance and has both the longevity and sillage to melt the icy grip of winter’s fingers running down your spine.
I asked Hans what inspired him to create Fume and he said, “I wanted to make a fragrance that was very literal, something that smelled exactly like a particular object and not one that was an orchestra of notes that created their own scent. Fume was the result of that desire and to this day is either one of my most hated or loved fragrances I’ve ever created”. Hate it or love it, Fume embodies the outdoors of East Texas and perhaps even references the Latin ‘per fumum’, meaning ‘through smoke.
When a close friend of mine smelled this fragrance it brought tears to her eyes as she told me, her voice quivering, “This…this… is… the exact smell I remember waking up to as a child when my I was growing up in the country.” Scent is memory and it is to her I dedicate this review.
Through The Smoke by the Nosey Artist
I was abruptly awakened by a strange but familiar noise, a sort of curious scratching followed by a rhythmic and excited patting—scratch…scratch…pat pat pat! Once I came to it I immediately knew what is was, Boots, our hunter cat, had brought in his latest prey to play with and probably had it cornered in the shower letting what ever rodent it was “try” to escape only to pounce on it with his paws and scratch at it once again. A lot has changed since my parents decided to uproot my sister and I from the comforts of our home in suburban Dallas and replant us in the woods of Hill Country Texas, but there were a few things now that I could always count on. One was the blistering cold we were faced to endure during the winter, even with four or five blankets covering me at night it wasn’t enough to stop the shivering of my body eager for warmth or the dread of waking up at 5:00 a.m. for volley ball practice.
Two was the smell of smoke and burnt Bur Oak from the makeshift furnace my parents made for our barn yard home since we were without central AC or heating. I always enjoyed the smell of burnt wood, but now the pleasure was bitter sweet. The smell would get into everything from our blankets to school clothes-even my long, thick hair that touched the bottom of my back and the kids at school were quick to remind me of our living conditions when they’d make fun of me for smelling like a forest fire. I used to become enraged, even resenting my parents for their decision, but soon I learned to rely on joyful memories for comfort.
After my classmates walked away from their daily rousing I would hold the tail of my flannel shirt to my nose and instantly be reminded of the times when we would sit around the camp fire and my father would tell us all ghost stories while my mom taught my sister and I how to make s’mores; other times I would think of how hard my mom worked to make us as comfortable as possible, even if that meant waking up in the middle of the night to stoke the fire so our toes wouldn’t catch frost bite.
Yes things have changed quite a bit, but this was my life now and I decided to make the best of it. I crawled out of bed fighting the cold as I slipped on my shoes and climbed down the ladder to walk across the hay a skewed carped of the barn and there my mom was, kneeling by the fire-her face set a glow by the burning embers.“Good morning my love”, her customary greeting to my sister and I, “You mean the world to me and without your presence my heart wouldn’t know such a joy.”
Notes: conifer resins, smoked tea, galbanum, ruh khus, nagarmotha, and oakmoss
The Nosey Artist, Contributor
Editor’s Note For our reviews of Hendley Perfumes Tama, Bourbon, Auric and Rosenthal click here. Hans was also featured in our Perfumer’s Workshop Creating a Perfume Organ I really wanted to use a contemporary Texan Artist and chose the work of Odessa Texas Born Artist Irby Pace who is a professor at Tarant County college in Fort Worth. His digital art series Idle Voids POP with its creative use of smoke really spoke to me. His greatest influences was his childhood in Texas and it felt right for this piece. Mr. Pace is not affiliated with Hans Hendley or CaFleureBon. His art is represented by Galleri Urbane in Dallas
Thanks to Hans Hendley of Hendley Perfumes we have a draw for our US registered readers (you need to do this folks or you are ineligible) for a bottle of Fume. To be eligible, please leave a comment with your strongest scent memory, and what you enjoyed about The Nosey Artist’s review of Fume. If you have a favorite Hendley Perfume, please leave that in your comment as well. Draw ends November 18, 2015.
We announce the winners only on site and on our Facebook page, so Like Cafleurebon and use our RSS option…or your dream prize will be just spilled perfume.