A PERFUMER’S WALKABOUT

School has started again, so mornings are all spent inside. However, one of the activities that I usually do with my freshman class is a campus walkabout to look at public art, architecture, design, and other fun things. Yesterday afternoon I took a walkabout myself to make sure that I have a good route planned out, little thinking that it would yield a treasure trove of perfume-related plants.

The first and biggest surprise came when I was walking down a path and suddenly smelled a familiar, woody, resinous scent. I looked all around, but wasn’t able to localize it. I shrugged it off thinking it was just my imagination, or else there was a bit of labdanum clinging to my clothing somewhere and being activated by the sun. I went on, but a little further down the path I smelled it again. This time there was only one kind of bush in the vicinity and, when I touched it, it was sticky! Really sticky, especially the new stems. After touching the bush, my hands smelled exactly like the labdanum absolute that I use. I’d found Cistus ladanifer growing right on campus in huge profusion. The bushes are bigger than I’d imagined them being, as tall or taller than I am, with thick woody trunks. If you don’t work with labdanum, it’s probably hard to imagine the thrill of finding these legendary plants growing in your very own neighborhood with the resin oozing out, right there for you to touch and sniff. 

There were two varieties of Cistus, one the “real thing” and another with wider leaves, less resin, and a woodier scent. I took a small cutting of each that I’ll try to root, but will also look for a larger ladanifer plant at one of the local nurseries.

The next surprises came when I checked out the medicinal herb garden. The most surprising thing I found was a huge asafoetida plant, Ferula asafoetida, which is the source of the Indian spice, hing. Live, it resembles a huge Angelica plant with the typical dill-anise-angelica type seed heads. I was surprised to find that the leaves had a strong, fresh, herbal scent rather than the typical garlic-onion odor of the spice, which is made from the resin exuded from the roots.  Now I want to grow an asafoetida plant and tincture the leaves. I took a seed head, and will be raising little asafoetida plants in the greenhouse this winter for garden planting in the spring.

Another plant that I was pleased to find was immortelle, Helichrysum italicum, commonly known as curry plant. The leaves really do smell like curry, but also have a hint of the sweet, maple-syrup scent of immortelle absolute. I took some immoretelle seeds, too, which look like clusters of little dandelion seed puffs.

The final surprise was finding a big hedge of tea bushes, Camellia sinensis. I had no idea that we could grow tea in the Pacific Northwest, but evidently so. The plants look like regular camellia bushes with medium small leaves. Interesting. This one is going into my garden, too, along with the others, initially as a cutting that I’ll try to root and, with luck, a bigger plant from a nursery. Imagine harvesting and making your own tea!

[As usual, I didn't have my camera or phone with me, so the photos of the Cistus Helichrysum and Camellia sinensis flowers are from Wikimedia, as is the botanical illustration of the asafoetida plant. The cuttings laid out on the kitchen counter are my photo]

LABDANUM

Some people think it smells like goat. Others think it smells like ambergris, or leather, or pine rosin, or musk. Yet others think it smells like strange, rotten fruit. Some people think it must be the smell of heaven, and others think it's the smell from hell. Everyone seems to have a different reaction to rock rose, otherwise known as Cistus ladaniferus (also spelled ladanifer), but it’s all of these perceptions and more. It’s one of my favorite perfumery materials, which I’ve used in several different forms, most liberally in my amber base.

Cistus shrubs are native to the Mediterranean, and secrete a sticky resin that’s been used in perfumery for millennia. It’s one of those archetypal scents that many people dislike because they conjure up visions of our remote human history, our animal instincts, and all of the well-repressed scents and associated emotions that our modern, well-scrubbed, quasi-puritanical Western society tries to avoid, preferring instead light, “safe”, synthetic scents that have little association with raw nature.

Back in the old days, labdanum resin used to be harvested from the hair of goats that foraged among the Cistus bushes, unwittingly performing a service to perfumers as they dined, so the goat association has some basis in fact. Of course, it’s not done that way any more, but the plant’s own animalic notes are still there in the pungent resin. The raw resin is a dark greenish-brown, and has a very earthy, plant-like scent. I use the least refined, green absolute in compositions where I want a dark, earthy note without too much of the strong, resinous, perfumey aspect. An extra step of refining produces a clear absolute that I love to wear as a perfume just on its own when I’m in need of a special treat. It is a powerfully resinous scent that’s like dried pine rosin, but with fruity, musky, leathery notes that pop out more clearly than they do in the green version.

Steam distillation of the resin produces a powerfully fragrant, orange-colored essential oil, generally sold under the name Cistus, that has less of the resinous aspect and more of the fruity, “perfumey”, musky, animalic notes. I have found considerable variation in the oil from different sources, with each having its own use.

If you have not smelled labdanum or cistus, the scent is impossible to describe adequately since it is unlike anything else, a common theme with variations. None of the Cistus absolutes or oils come cheap, but fortunately a little goes a long way, and the effect in a perfume is worth the expense.

I will give away a sample of one version of Cistus to two people who comment here. Just leave a comment saying which version you think would be most appealing to you - the absolute or the essential oil. If your name is drawn you will receive a 1-ml sample of that version diluted to perfume strength. If you have not smelled Cistus by itself, this is your opportunity. You may love it, you may hate it, but at least you will have experienced it, and it may help you recognize it in perfumes.

I've just done the drawing, and the winners of the labdanum samples are Laurie Brown and Diana. You can claim yours by going to my profile, clicking on "e-mail" and sending me a message with your full mailing address.