Luciano Pavarotti
Luciano Pavarotti (1994)

Pavarotti by Luciano Pavarotti (1994) was created by onetime Versace perfume producer Eurocosmesi for the late Tenor when he was still alive, and it saw a women's version labelled "Pavarotti Donna" in 1995, plus a flanker in the form of Luciano by Luciano Pavarott (1998) that formed the final of three releases by the famed opera singer. How much these fragrances have to do with arguably the most-famous male Tenor in modern history is debatable, as it's impossible to know if he really wore these or had anything really to do with their creation. What is known about Pavarotti is it was composed by David Apel and showcases a style already outmoded by 1994, although the kind of fan Pavarotti had tended to be older, so the style was likely perfectly-aimed at its target audience. The quick gist of this for folks wanting answers without long diatribes is you get an overly sweet, alternately dusty-at-times take on a patchouli fragrance, that doesn't seem to really know itself.

I realize I'm probably in the minority as most of the "oakmoss cult" moans and writhes, pitches to and fro, uttering reverent words like "masterpiece" and "gem" repeatedly like a flagellant monk, smacking their foreheads with wooden boards like that particular scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail; but I do not think this is all that special, even if I do think it is decent enough a display of its apparent style. Observations of this being a patchouli-focused chypre are correct, and comparisons to Givenchy Gentleman (1974) or Giorgio Beverly Hills for Men (1984) are also apt; all ten years apart from one another are these, and like how Giorgio is softer and sweeter than the Givenchy, so is the Pavarotti softer and sweeter than the Giorgio. A bridge too far says I, which is where I likely differ than most. The resonant pitch of the honey, vanilla, and resins is where this goes wrong for me, a bit overdone compared to Boss by Hugo Boss (1985).

The rest of the notes are backfill against the patchouli, honey, benzoin, and vanilla. The floral core of rose and geranium with a touch of iris peaking through is nice, having a bit of gender-bending pitch to it that also seems not in character for Mr. Pavarotti, hence my earlier observation about whether or not he had much to say on this scent being created. I like my gender-bend scents don't get me wrong, and Alain Delon Iquitos (1987) remains my white whale I shall never have because I need that money to pay rent; but this is not a substitute for that men's fragrance which could have been Dior Poison (1985) in another life. Back when prices where floating around $40 for this, I could see it being a quirky thrill, but the sad truth is the highest end sellers have added a zero to that price, with the median being closer to $300. Completely unacceptable when there are such better and more unique patchouli options out there new or old. Neutral

*Not to be confused with the "Pavarotti Luciano" frag that comes in a green box.*

At first I thought the atomizer was weak, but it actually works well if you apply brute force.

Visions of Pavarotti's fat ass singing in a tux made me assume this would be a talcum powder bomb. Thankfully it is not. It opens with dollops of honey and spicy citrus, which somehow remind me of a restrained Denim Original EDT. But that's where the similarities end because here it is followed by patchouli and oakmoss and it also gets powdery in the dry-down, but not much.

Longevity and projection are both moderate. Pavarotti For Men is an underrated classy scent. Such quality is highly unusual in a celebrity fragrance - the only other one I enjoy and own is Alain Delon Iquitos. It might be more suitable for formal occasions, but I don't care, heck I even wear it for work zoom calls when I want to feel professional.

Masculinity Level: JFK diligently working at his desk.

What a wondrous creation, sonorous much like the legend himself. For those who detect tobacco, I discern the use of liatrix absolute (which is more like fresh tobacco than tobacco absolute itself), so I had to vote that one up on the above perfume pyramid.

The opening is a fanfare of the most incredible amalgamation of citrus/green leaves, spice, and rose/geranium, with that undercurrent of all those rich base resins, opoponax, benzoin, etc, and just the right dose of patchouli to sheer it out. It swirls around my body in the most impressive, majestic way. I feel regal.

I'd like to thank my fellow fragheads for turning me on to this one. The buzz was well warranted.

Luciano Pavarotti opens with a nose tingling blast of bergamot and lemon underpinned by slightly grassy verbena before quickly moving to its heart. As the composition enters its early heart a creamy iris is unveiled, supporting an almost dusty dulled rose, soft patchouli and powdery green oakmoss trio that's overall accord takes the fore, with a relatively dry opoponax derived honey, moderately soft leather , warm woods and slightly sweet vanilla derived accord as co-star. During the late dry-down the composition stays moderately powdery/dusty, with the powdery green oakmoss remaining prominent with remnants of the patchouli and benzoin enhanced vanilla hanging around through the finish. Projection is average, but longevity stellar at well over 15 hours on skin.

This is a tough one to crack, as Luciano Pavarotti is an extremely complex perfume with a gob of ingredients. I have heard comparisons to vintage compositions like Givenchy Gentleman and Giorgio for Men, along with more modern compositions like Dia Man, but honestly I don't get much comparison with any of them save for some similar ingredients used. If I were to attempt any kind of comparison, Luciano Pavarotti has a *passing* resemblance to the excellent, but rare vintage Bugatti Blue Bottle, but that doesn't come close to nailing the composition down fragrance profile-wise, instead being more of a starting point. The composition has a very dusty quality to it throughout, also coming off as powdery (from the significant oakmoss used that focuses near-solely on its powdery facet), but also warm woody, dry, slightly sweet, with dulled rose florals and relatively sanitized soft, dry honey infused patchouli throughout. Finally, a supporting leather facet that underpins the works is not quite suede, but more soft than rugged. It all comes together rather nicely with nothing appearing out of place, but the dust and powder do somewhat detract from the end result, especially to this power-averse writer. Make no mistake, I like Luciano Pavarotti plenty, but just can't quite get to "love." The bottom line is the long-since discontinued $90 per 75ml bottle on the aftermarket Luciano Pavarotti has an appealing dandy-like complex fragrance profile that for the most part hits the mark, only marred by its abundant focus on gentle dust and powder that keeps it from a higher rating and outright love, earning a "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5 and a solid recommendation to vintage perfume collectors who are not heavily powder-averse.

Anyone who has pulled ivy off a brick wall will know this smell; a mixture of dusty green ivy and dry porous brick. It's a realistic scent that, along with citrus and coloured flowers has the impression of a sunny Italian garden.

It's an oddly rustic scene for a cultural figure like Pavarotti, one that gives no sense of his life as a world famous opera singer. But perfume is a private thing; it's possible that the smell of ivy on a garden wall held something personal for the King of the High C's; a memory of the cottage his family moved to when he was eighteen perhaps?

But all speculation aside, as well as the disjunct between famous persona and private perfume there are issues with Pavarotti for Men.

The citrus and waxy floral notes that round out the 'garden' also give a liquid feel to the ivy and brick wall, but what results isn't really a balance of textures, more like a slick overlay of the dusty dry.

A crucial element of the perfume is the natural material Liatris absolute, described on creatingperfume.com as 'coumarin, hay-like and with a note of tobacco'. Evident right from the start, Liatris forms the spine of the structure. As the profile descends, the hay and tobacco elements fade away to leave the more durable coumarin - which is a base note. And so, because the structure is centred on a base note, the whole thing is pretty linear.

While the full set of modifiers are around, the effect is strangely unbalanced but still not too bad, skillful imbalance is one of the arts of perfumery after all. But the problem is, over time - as these modifiers drop away - the profile shrinks back to a bland and rather flat pale dusty odour. And because the perfume [Aftershave] is slow moving and durable this last stage goes on for a very long time - and it gets a bit boring.

So, if you aren't taken with Pavarotti right from the start - it's better avoided. All you can look forward to is less of the same.

I think this is what hay from the Elysian Fields smells like and I know hay I grew up a farm boy, later all the goodness you can read from our great reviewers below.