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Francesca Bianchi Lost in Heaven and The Black Knight

30th October 2019

The amount of depravity Francesca Bianchi subjects orris root to, I don’t know to be scared of meeting her in a dark alley – or take her out for an Aperol Spritz. People are just now starting to talk about a Bianchi DNA, but I think that her signature was fairly evident from her first releases. If I were to sum it up, I’d say that Bianchi takes materials that seem innocuous and innocent in and of themselves – light suede, powdery orris, fresh vetiver – and works them over with a knuckleduster until they smell rough around the edges and distinctly unclean.

I wonder if, when Luca Turin said in The Guide 2018 that most of the creativity in perfume these days was coming out of Italy, he meant Italians are not afraid of making a statement? Because that’s true in Francesca Bianchi’s case. She doesn’t shy away from pungency or notes that traverse the scale from matted bear to Siamese kitty. But while I wouldn’t rate Bianchi’s perfumes as particularly beginner-friendly, there’s an (Italianate?) smoothness of finish that renders them beautifully wearable. In fact, I can’t think of any other indie whose work falls into that tight space between animalism and polish as neatly as Francesca Bianchi (although Marlou comes very close).  

Although very different to each other, it’s hard not to see Lost in Heaven and The Black Knight as anything other than two sides of the same coin, joined as they are not only by their twinned launch but by the patented Bianchi move of perverting the aloofness of orris with rude skin musks and the salty, urinous twang of ambergris. Leather is the outcome in one; a diffuse taffeta ruff in the other. But something about both perfumes make me think, ‘Francesca Bianchi, you are a bad, bad girl’.

The Black Knight in particular drives me wild. It took me a bit of time to understand it, but after ten days straight of wearing the damn thing, I’m all in. Opening with a hoary ‘Old Man and the Sea’ vetiver that smells like a bunch of whiskey-sozzled men in damp tweed around an open fire in a cramped little Irish cottage beside the sea, it immediately establishes a tone of neglect and closed-up spaces. Slightly analogous to vintage Vetiver by Annick Goutal and Muschio di Quercia by Abdes Salaam al Attar, the vetiver here is denuded of all freshness and twisted into a grungy leather that smells more like something dug up from the bowels of the earth than grass. But for all its salt-encrusted, boozy ‘staleness’, I think The Black Knight succeeds for much the same reason that Patchouli 24 does, in that it balances out a smoky, barely civilized leather accord with a softening layer of something sweet and balmy, delivering both the sting of the whip and a soothing caress in one go.

The Black Knight swaps out the birch tar of the Le Labo for an interesting cuir accord built mostly (as far as I can tell) from that hulking vetiver and some of the bitter, meaty Cellier-esque, Isobutyl quinoline-infused leather that’s been popping up quite a bit recently (see Rose et Cuir). It takes some time to dry down into that softening layer of balmy beeswax – infinitely more balanced than the sweetness in Patchouli 24, which is more sugary and vanilla extract-like in character – so before we settle in for the final, long drawn-out waltz of leather and cream, there’s a surprising development or two.

Most notably, past the opening of dusty ‘grumpy old man’ vetiver, an animalistic accord emerges, pungent and sticky with honey, and almost honking with the freshly-urinated-upon-hay stink of narcissus. Bianchi’s treatment of orris is fascinating to me – she can make it high-toned and mineralic, or funky with the low-tide halitosis of ambergris or blow it out into a big, civety floral cloud. Here, the orris is briefly pungent, with disturbing hints of rubber, boot polish, tar, and urine. This pissy-rubbery stage almost never fails to surprise me – and I’ve been wearing these two samples for the past ten days straight. Don’t smell your skin too closely and you might miss it entirely.  

The Black Knight seems to go on forever, dawdling in that balmy double act of creamed beeswax and ‘hard’ leather before eventually dropping all the sweetness, leaving only mineralic dust and the faint whiff of marshy runner’s sweat (a drydown it shares with Le Labo Patchouli 24). The Black Knight is a bolshy, mouthing-off-in-all-directions strop of scent that’s probably not the easiest thing for a total beginner to carry off. But it’s striking as hell, and never less than sexy.   

I can never tell if Lost in Heaven is a civety floral or a floral civet. There’s a brocaded sourness of honey, pale ale, and resin in the far drydown that gives it something to rest against. But mostly this is a bunch of dollhead-sweet flowers blown out into a diffuse cloud of satiny musks and underlined with something very, very unclean – like leaning in to kiss and girl and catching a suggestion of unwashed pillowcases, scalp, and skin that’s already been licked.

At first, Lost in Heaven reminds me very much of other vaguely retro indie floral civets (or civety florals), especially Maria Candida Gentile’s irisy Burlesque – a mini of which I bought for myself as a birthday present and am rapidly burning through – and Mardi Gras by Olympic Orchids. Then it strikes me that it’s not only the civet (or technically, the ambergris in the case of Lost in Heaven) that’s linking all these scents in my mind, but a certain indie treatment of the iris, or orris, that they all share. I’ve smelled it in Andy Tauer’s iris-centric work too, most notably in Lonesome Rider and his more recent Les Années 25, and it runs like a hot streak through Francesca Bianchi’s work.

The only way I can describe this specifically indie orris treatment is this: take a huge mineral-crusted rock from the beach, wipe it down quickly with a lemony disinfectant, stick it in a clear glass kiln and turn up the heat to 1370 degrees C until it vaporizes, filling the closed-in space with a glittering miasma of acid, mica, and lime-like tartness. I have a suspicion that a matchstick’s worth of Ambrox or Cetalox is the fuse that ignites the orris here, with castoreum creating that dusty, soot-like dryness that approaching freshly tanned leather or suede. The end result is a rather sour and acid-tinged iris that smells like you’re smelling the material diffused in the air after a lab explosion rather than from anything growing in nature. Actually, to be fair – I’ve smelled this ‘hot lava stone’ treatment of orris in landmark Guerlains too, most notably in Attrape-Coeur (one of my all-time favorite scents), which layers a dollop of peach and raspberry jam over a bed of these hissing-hot iris rocks and watches for the chemical reaction. Fridge-cold jam against hot minerals, with a side of sweet, rubbery dollhead, all blown out into sour, almost boozy mist – well, what’s not to like, really?

God, I only hope I’m making sense to someone out there.  

Image by Mark Frost from Pixabay

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  • Marcus 30th October 2019 at 7:18 pm

    I'm not able to break down the ingredients in Francescas's fragrances, so I can't pin me overall felling. But I have one regarding The Black Knight and that is dominated by an old school vibe, which I don't appreciate. I experienced the same with Etruscan Water. Both sound great and promising to me, and so does your review of it, but bottom line is they smell too old school for my taste. A pity! – I wish to add I'm both a huge fan of The Dark Side and a sucker for vetiver, but some added spices or so put me off.

    Oh, and: Yes, you make sense! Keep it coming!

    • Marcus 30th October 2019 at 7:21 pm

      ^ 'my', 'feeling' – sorry

    • Claire 31st October 2019 at 10:12 am

      In Ireland we use 'me' instead of 'my' so I never even noticed anything amiss 🙂 I'm surprised you find her work old-school, though I suppose there's a certain Guerlainesque property at work in some of her compositions, like Angel's Dust (which some say reminds them of Attrape-Coeur/Guet-Apens). Mostly I find them to have that modern, animalistic edge that marks them out as modern, albeit with a retro sensibility in some. Etruscan Water is VERY masculine on me – I can see where you get an old school vibe from that, but I think my brain shuts down whenever I run into a fougere that hasn't been sweetened up for modern consumption!

  • Cassieflower 31st October 2019 at 5:04 pm

    I love the few FBs I’ve tried. There’s definitely a Bianchiade going on here. I haven’t yet got my sniff on the newer offerings but I will eventually. The thing that I’m finding running through them is salt. Oh, and the after effects of some between the sheets action. She’s a right little provocateur is our Francesca😉

    • Claire 13th November 2019 at 3:08 pm

      Cassieflower, I really must apologize – I was cleaning out my spam folder today and found your comments in there. I have now smacked the spam filter on its bottom and it won't be doing that again! The 'after effects of some between the sheets action' is too right…I think perhaps a lot of that naughty personality of hers makes it through to her signature.

  • MrsDalloway 3rd November 2019 at 11:45 pm

    Ha, I would run a mile from these but I love your writing so much! I have tried one FB – possibly Angel's Dust? – but it was way too much for me.

    • MrsDalloway 4th November 2019 at 9:59 am

      No, it was Under My Skin so animalic was the point, but I haven't reached that level of animal-loving.

    • Claire 4th November 2019 at 2:31 pm

      Hi Mrs Dalloway, how lovely to see you! Yes, I imagine that the Bianchi perfumes might be a bit too dense or animalic for your tastes alright! Even Angel's Dust is quite 'thick', isn't it?

    • Claire 4th November 2019 at 2:36 pm

      Ah ok – Under My Skin, not Angel's Dust. I love Under My Skin, but for me it's more spicy and cuminy than animalic, though I can see why it would be a bit too much for you. I have always meant to buy myself a bottle but never got around to it…maybe next year. Out of all the Bianchi perfumes Under My Skin and the Black Knight would be the ones I'd buy, which goes to show just how different our tolerance levels for the animalic are 🙂

  • Diamondflame 4th November 2019 at 7:49 am

    Amazing duo IMO. Sexy as hell. It was the first time in many years a fragrance made me revisit the idea of having a signature fragrance for life. That signature Francesca Bianchi base accord gets a little too sweet at times but the dark patchouli-vetiver-leather in The Black Knight is nothing short of arresting. I had to buy 2 bottles on the spot!

    • Claire 4th November 2019 at 8:34 am

      2 bottles on the spot!!! That is a rare mark of appreciation coming from you – wow!

  • Scarce 12th November 2019 at 5:59 pm

    Another big fan of The Black Knight. Big thumbs up.

    • Claire 13th November 2019 at 3:03 pm

      Hi Scarce, I'm so sorry – my Spam filter ate your comment. Glad you're a fan of The Black Knight….kind of thought it might be your kind of thing alright!

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