Scented Snippets New Fragrance Collection: DSH Giverny in Bloom — Impressionism Illuminated

by: Ida Meister

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, the Painterly Perfumer [as we might well now call her] has just refined her eighth collaborative multi-sensorial event with the Denver Art Museum. It will open on July 19th, entitled In Bloom: Painting Flowers in the Age of Impressionism.

This time, Dawn has provided the scentscape en plein air which accompanies this panoramic vision of Monet's beloved gardens in Giverny through painting and perfume: the damp, soil-infused verdancy of the garden [Le Jardin Vert]; the blue-violet beds of iris, lilac, violets [La Danse des Bleus et des Violettes];  the peonies, old roses and scented carnations [l'Opera des Rouges et des Roses]; and Giverny in Bloom—a symphonic culmination of the mad, riotous profusion of blossoms actually painted by Monet from his original gardens.

One will wander joyfully through the groupings of his paintings while being able to immerse themselves in their lovingly imagined aromas.

[There will even be a "scratch and sniff" card for exhibit visitors to take with them]

Where shall I begin?

These fragrances are so unabashedly, unapologetically floral that they fairly revel.

I was sent earlier scent sketches, then the refined, fully-fleshed ones.

They leave me breathless.

[And, like you, I will have to wait until July 14th (an auspicious day, don't you think? ;-) ) in order to place my purchases.]

Water Lilies and the Japanese bridge, 1897-1899

LE JARDIN VERT
[The Green Garden]

This is a wonderful place to start!

Do you share my adoration of the intensely verdant, freshly-turned earth, complete with the sap of bruised green leaves and stalks, the tender floralcy of blossoms gently warming to the sun's gaze?

Then this, dear heart, is for you. Inhale the morning garden, green, soil-infused. Its freshness is indeed a virtue; it is not a piercing hawk of green, but that of nascent growth, joyful and full of light.

I love that it is both floral and green without bitterness or glaring aldehydes. <3

Water Lilies and Reflections of a WIllow, 1916-1919

LE DANSE DES BLEUS ET DES VIOLETTES
[The Dance of the Blues and Violets]

Limpid Impressionism: this perfume is entirely different, celebrating the sweet shyness of the soft palette of watery, hazy soothing tones so dear to Monet's heart and eye. Dewy and humming with the sweetest flowers, we are swept into the painter's daydream: irises, violets, seringa, lilacs, crocus all populate this corner of the gardens as we follow, entranced. I sense the movement of butterflies, bees, and the few clouds which dapple a brilliantly clear sky above. There exists a dolce far niente quality in Le Danse.—

To be alive is excuse enough. <3

House Among the Roses, between 1917 and 1919

L'OPERA DES ROUGES AT DES ROSES
[The Opera of the Reds and the Roses]

You don't have to sing opera to be smitten by this particular perfume; you merely need to love life on a Grand Scale.

Everything red- or pink-hued is depicted with an adoring sense of drama. L'Opera is the Grande Dame of the collection: spicy, blowsy with glorious roses and scented carnations. I am a confessed admirer of the carnation, and an avowed rose lover; I couldn't be happier.

Dawn includes the slightly medicinal, camphorous whisper, too, for that element of uncertainty.

This perfumed lady suffuses her scent wherever she billows, resplendent in her primary-colored finery.

A paltry brush of her crinolines is enough to bring you to your knees.

Hers is the passion to inflame the senses mercilessly.

So be it; her will is my will. <3

In the Garden, 1895

GIVERNY IN BLOOM

Millefiori and soil; sun, water and sky.

This is what plenitude smells like when Nature bestows her cornucopia of gifts.
All our elements are present and we can smell them for ourselves.

Earthiness weds the ethereal. Soil and sun, narcissus and daffodil, hyacinth surely are evoked as I inhale this heady fragrance. It lingers despite apparent transparency.

The florals feel moist, your nose would know when you reached down to experience them, tempted to pluck. But you musn't be greedy: Giverny belongs to all, and we have no business filching the flowers. Dawn has given them to us in this perfume, generously enough. We want for nothing.

And we are grateful for all of it, in good measure.

I won't be able to fly to Denver, sadly.

I doubt that many of us could.

But through her delicious collection of Impressionist-inspired perfumes, we can share in the experience with delight.