Experimentum Crucis
Etat Libre d'Orange (2019)

Zoologist paid the dowry for their daughter Moth’s betrothal to Francis Kurkdjian’s Absolue Pour Le Soir. Turns out, for a forced marriage, they actually hit it off quite well - very well actually. Skanky and nasty bedroom activity has lead to the birth of a child they will call Experimentum Crucis, and the midwife is none other than… Quentin Bisch…? The King of the land of Suffocating Akigalawood has donned a nurse’s frock and brought into this world a bizarre looking love child. This child would find inspiration with Isaac Newton, thinking “what would the world be like now if a rose fell onto Isaac instead of an apple?” It’s always an impossible question, “what would happen, if, instead, this?” This is starting to shape out to be tale fit for a Wes Anderson film.

I’m late to the party. I missed when this baby was squelched into a plastic pool in Francis’s and Zoologist’s living room, and I missed a few birthdays, but I finally get to meet this kid and there is a hint of genius hiding in that weird little head of theirs. Sometimes genius is the product of something absurdly simple that many/most of us simply miss - for example, there is a reason an apple falls and doesn’t float. Why? No one really seemed to ask, or at least passionately care to truly devote themselves to finding the why and publicizing it until Newton did. Nurse Bisch’s moment of absurdly simple genius comes in the form of an absurdly simple damascone and ambroxan+akigalawood formula (the latter he would end up repeatedly molesting in future compositions). There is not much new here; fruity and woody rose damascones over synthetic dark woods and animalic musky ambroxan. It’s the cumin and honey that turn the simple moment of an apple plonking someone on the head into the spark of genius. The cumin is properly funky/skanky woody, and the smell of salty and sweaty body odor, but without the thickness or the sharpness that often makes it painful or lumpen in many other perfumes. The honey is likewise. Floral, tastefully sweet, waxy and sticky, but its texture does not feel like it is dragging itself across your nostrils on its way to your palate. I find this texture to be the best and most commendable characteristic of this Bisch composition, since it is so rare for his compositions to have it. Experimentum Crucis feels like it is levitating, not launching; intermingling with the air and the other molecules around it, not blasting them away with aggressive and toxic force; calmly pondering a deep question, not roaring away in your ear.

Cons? Does this bizarre love child have any behavioral issues? Eh, I wish its attention span were longer, but it is part of the Gen Z/Gen Alpha transition trained so well to keep scrolling away on their preferred social media platform(s), so I guess I shouldn’t expect much; its notes and layer transitions happening quite quickly and with maybe not much attention to timing. Unlike Absolue or Moth, this doesn’t want to stick around long. This could also be a new formulation difference, but I didn’t smell this upon its initial release so I cannot tell you one way or another. It should, and it could, last longer. We know that Bisch is perfectly capable of making a perfume last forever (though I wish in most instances he didn’t). But that’s a minor issue to what is otherwise a very interesting, bizarre, yet simple perfume that also simply smells great. Let’s see if this kid cures cancer, or finds the solution to the expansion of the universe - or maybe they just become Hitler 2.0. Bisch knows how to deliver that baby as well. But with Experimentum Crucis, I am optimistic.

Sampling Etat Libre d’Orange Experimentum Crucis, a very pleasantly fresh and musky blend, a bit sweet and fruity, with notes of apple, lychee, rose, jasmine, honey, patchouli, and musks per official channels. The opening is both bright and dry, with almost a vaguely herbal/metallic/green side that complements the fruits, florals, and musk, and keeps the sophistication high. Overall, it’s quite agreeable and versatile and feels familiar in a way, even though no specific comparisons come to mind, so in that respect it’s a bit comforting.

Concentration is EDP and retail pricing is $250 for 100ml, sold on the house website and Perfumology, among other boutiques. Performance is very good and I think the pricing is reasonable enough for nice quality perfume that is very useful throughout the year. Anyone could wear this anytime and make it work, I think, and I enjoy the bottle design.

7 out of 10

Powdery, old lady floral. I would like this on a grandma, but only in a comforting, familiar way. Nothing sexy or intriguing here.

The apple and cumin are a weird combo in the opening. It starts to reveal itself after the initial powdery rose fades.

Experimentum Crucius feels like an older, more mature sibling of Spice Must Flow. While the latter is a traditional rose/oud combo, this one offers a more mellow and sophisticated twist by replacing the oud with cumin. It’s quite unique and unlike anything else I’ve smelled. There is a hint of green apple, but it blends seamlessly with the other notes, so don’t expect it to be a prominent green scent.

The rose and akigalawood are tightly blended here. The rose isn’t sour or tart like in Spice Must Flow, and it doesn’t have that typical Montale rose/oud profile. Instead, it’s smooth and harmonious. Echoing Gimmegreen's review, the cumin is dry and well-integrated with the woods, avoiding any dirty or sweaty undertones.

My only gripe is that it doesn’t project as much as some of the other fragrances in the Édition Extrême collection. This scent leans more towards a funky and experimental edge with its cumin and woody notes. It’s not a blind buy but definitely worth a sample. It could be worn in most seasons, except for intense heat. Although it leans slightly more masculine, it’s versatile enough for anyone to wear. I appreciate cumin when it’s done right, and it adds a unique personality to this fragrance. This is one of the better releases from the brand.

I usually steer clear of any perfume that lists cumin as a primary note, but it's used to incredible effect here, not as a stand-in for skank but as a savory counterpoint to the tart punch of apple and lychee and the muskiness of rose. The resulting accord is dry and aromatic, almost vetiver-like, while retaining just a bit of hippie chic earthiness thanks to the patchouli and musk.

Smells great on skin, but even better on fabric and in the air. If you're into de-funking small spaces with cedar balls and sachets of potpourri, or you regularly use perfume as room spray, this might be your new jam. I sprayed my sample on my wrists and neck one morning before going out to walk the dog, hung up my coat afterward in the closet we reserve for outwear, and the next morning, wooosh, the scent wafted out at me as if I'd just sprayed it, but having at this point become all dry woods with just the hint of rosy. Gorgeous!

At first I get fresh apple for 5 seconds or so, and then it goes to a sweaty rose, a bit similar to one in Juliette Has A Gun's Lady Vengeance and Mad Madame, but much much much fainter. I like it, but I like JHAG scents more because I smelled them first. Too bad the scent is so faint to my nose I can hardly smell it at all. I respray it and still cannot smell it after a minute again. It might be my nose and not the perfume though. After several hours of nothing I start smelling it again when I dig my nose into my wrist. Smells like a bit softer and less dusty and weakened Agent Provocateur then. I like it, but thank you, I'll take Agent Provocateur over this any day - especially considering the price.