Twin Perceptions: Color and Scent: Part Four: Fire

by: John Biebel

So far in our investigation of color and scent, we've started with an introduction, moved onto the cool shades of blue, and then the mysteries of black. Now as we in the Northern Hemisphere enter Autumn, it's time to turn up the heat as our eyes reflect the scarlets, yellows, and oranges of scent. We might best begin by revisiting our basic ideas about the warm colors of the spectrum, and what they mean to us.
 

 

All colors fall into one of three categories: warm, cool, and neutral. The cool colors visually recede in space, and tend to have a soothing nature, although this has some exceptions. Neutral colors are the ones not found on the color wheel—colors such as black, white, and various shades of brown. These colors are a bit of a mystery to us, since some people say that there are no absolute blacks or whites to be found in nature. At the same time, neutral browns, tans and ochres can be found everywhere: just look at the rich earth during a rain storm, or the sand on the shore of a beach.

 

 

The prevalence of neutral colors makes them very safe and comforting for us, and we often gravitate to them as a starting point: the blank page, the white wall, for example. If these are our reactions for cool and neutral hues, how do we feel about warm colors?

 

 

There is no question that one's first association with warm color is usual red. Is there any color as potent, as vibrant, as full of associations as red? It is literally the life blood of all living things, the color of flowers, of fruits. It pulses with life. It brings to mind such stark, vivid and contrasting ideas all at once: passion, sexuality, revolution, political struggle, vitality, virility, love. Red doesn't rest easy or sit idly by; it bolts, runs and grabs. It has been suggested from historical sources that in the ancient world, for example, the desire for red nails using nail color (or polish) was sometimes achieved by using blood as dye—a perfect metaphor of the inflamed passions fueled by red.

 

 

The scents associated with red are an intriguing group of natural elements: tomato, cranberry, blood orange, red currant, hibiscus, poppy, pomegranate, rooiboos, rhubarb, among many. Comme des Garçons Series 2 Red: Harissa is a stand out among red perfumes that contain many naturally occurring red ingredients. Its profile includes blood oranges, pimento and tomato, like a fiery Moroccan harissa paste used for cooking. Speaking of spice, many perfumes use red as a reference to spices in their compositions. A classic red like Hermes' Rouge is a woody powder with an underbelly of spice that smoulders, and Serge Lutens' Chypre Rouge warms on the skin with the oils of caraway and cumin mingling with red fruits. Another spicy red is the boozy, tarragon-infused Xeryus Rouge by Givenchy, whose top note of hot pimento has made it a singular man's scent since the 90's. 

 

 

But let's look back a bit at how red has achieved this fascinating profile of striking characteristics. What makes red so reactionary, so passionate? Perhaps because it is embedded so deeply in our history. Some of the earliest records of humankind, like the cave paintings in the Pyrenees of France, are painted in red. Think for example of the hand outline from the Pech Merle cave in Cabrerets (25,000 BC), or the red bison painting from Altamira, Spain (circa 16,000 BC).

 

 

Red was of particular importance to the Romans, and fortunately for us, their prized red pigment, cinnabar (a naturally occurring ore of mercury), is so stable that the frescoes of Pompeii and Herculaneum are still the vivid cinnabar red that they were when originally created. In both Asia and the West, red has had an interesting similarity in perception; it has often been the color of rank.

The Catholic church used red to denote the ranks and importance of its members, while early Chinese dynasties used red for emperors' robes, to designate women of the court, and for the ink of official seals. The idea of red ink (or text) as denoting something special still survives today: red letter days on calendars, cautionary statements, being “in the red” (in debt), or teachers' red ink corrections on an essay or homework assignment. Red is often used as the color of dress uniforms for military, most famously used by the red-coated British army for nearly four centuries.

There are many theories about why humans have such emotional reactions to red. Red often denotes a change in state that can cause relief or alarm. For example, many fruits turn red when they are safe to eat—a visual signal for us from nature. Our faces turn red from embarrassment, a wound or infection gets redder as it gets worse. And by extension, we've moved red into the sphere of symbolism probably more than any other color. Stop signs, Chinese and Indian bridal gowns, Maoist revolution, “red states”: Unlike the soft allusions like “feeling blue,” red is inevitably a sign, a mark of significance, a mark of change and a surge of emotion.

Some perfumes that use red as part of their look and feel are not spicy at all, but big and floral, reflecting their bold and provocative nature. Elizabeth Arden's Red Door is an 80s classic bouquet full of white flowers, rose, honey and musk. It's far from a gentle perfume, but rather a pronouncement, a grand entrance. Gucci Rush's unapologetic bold red rectangular container bursts forth with peaches, patchouli and gardenias. It embodies the fierce independence that red projects. Chopard's Madnessseems to rest between these worlds of spice and flowers, hitting you in the face with pink peppercorn, but then handing you a bouquet of hibiscus and deep red roses. 

But red is not actually the color of fire—fire is made up of four colors: blue, white, yellow and orange. It is this last color, orange, that we turn to now ... that sometimes overlooked child of red and yellow, often seen in perfumery in its subtler shades of amber or pale salmon. It's an elusive but unforgettable color. In the US, it is inextricably associated with All Hallows' Eve or Hallowe'en, mainly because of the lore of that late autumn crop, pumpkins. The Chinese sometimes refer to the pumpkin as “the emperor of the garden” as he sits so grandly, waiting patiently all through the spring, summer and most of the autumn to finally be harvested, even when the frost has already touched the entire field. A blaze of color truly astounds the eyes of the autumn world as orange leaves fall on orange pumpkins in the landscape.
 

 

 

Whereas red is the color of life, orange is the color of abundance. Turn around in the garden, in the grocery store, and look—paprika, oranges, apricots, turmeric, mangoes, carrots, kumquats, persimmons, saffron, salmon, melon, peaches, sweet potatoes. It is the harvest, the stores of luscious fruits and spices for a long winter. One of the loveliest shades of orange is perhaps the color of dried Turkish apricots, or, is it the color of a baked pumpkin pie? Clearly, it's hard to pick something in the realm of orange that is more or less lovely than another. Orange is the sun, and the fruits of the sun.
 

 

Orange perfumes abound, and many of them embrace this idea of abundance.Hermès' Elixir des Merveilles is a prime example of orange-ness. Expressed oil of orange, Siam resins, caramel, golden woods. This sublime and sparkling citrus wonder is often described as sunshine in a bottle, warm and generously inviting.
 

Mauboussin's Histoire d'Eau is another homage to orange. It is a literal orange sphere, like the fruit, like the sun, and quite warming on the skin as it is spiked generously with cardamon, nutmeg, pepper and leather. Orange seems to evoke a universal sense of warmth, both in mind and spirit. Think for instance of Profumum Roma's Patchouly: the generous, warming perfume of amber, sandalwood, patchouli leaves and incense. It also boasts a deep and luscious orange color like caramel sauce. Maison Francis Kurkdjian's Absolue Pour le Soir is not only a beautiful shade of deep orange, but wraps the wearer in a cloak of honey, incense, rose, caraway and cedar. Some orange perfumes pull their inspiration from the very woods that could eventually create smoldering embers. Bois de Copaiba by Parfumerie Generale is such a scent, combining the almond and woody scents of amaretto, mahogany, amber, myrrh and orange zest into a fine grained, balsamic vapor of comfort.

Besides comfort and warmth, orange has other sides. It is the color of internationalism and visibility (think of “International Orange”), or the color of astronauts' suits, life jackets and many traffic signs. It has also been a signifier of humor or frivolity, like the bright orange hair of clowns. Bacchus, the God of wine, is traditionally depicted wearing an orange robe to denote his revelry. And this carries through in the bold, fun oranges of Kenzo's Kenzo Amour: a geographic flight over Asian nations, consisting of frangipani, rice, and vanilla. CoSTUME National's Pop Collection is a fun, fruity, patchouli and amber creation in bold solid colors including orange. There is something joyful about the bold, opaque orange of Bond No. 9's Little Italy. It's a citrus parade of clementine, tangerine, lemon and orange oil, held in check with some musk and neroli; another great example of this second side or orange, jumping forward in brightness and fun.

As our exploration of color and scent has been working its way around the color wheel, we find ourselves coming to that all important realm of color that holds so many of our most beloved perfumes: Gold.   In all its hues from yellow to honey, sun rays to coreopsis blossoms, the natural extracts of plants and flowers often combine to give us some of the most beautiful golden hues in the bottles that rest on our shelves. In our fifth and last installment of Color and Scent, we'll discover gold, and come to some conclusions about our relationship with color, and the colors of our scented world.