The Black Knight
Francesca Bianchi (2019)

I write this knowing I can’t add much to what’s already been said about the actual smell of this: previous reviewers have knocked it out of the park already. This is just a talking cure—my redundancy as symptom—working through what this completely singular perfume does.

Bianchi names her inspiration directly: The Black Knight is named after a 16th century criminal leader of a band of professional war entrepreneurs—a kind of ur-Constellis (formerly Blackwater, before the serial buyouts and stock splits). The “black” does not signify evil, but mourning: bands worn in honor of a dead Pope. The perfume understands this. Unlike many Bianchi compositions, it does not even pretend to romance. It is pure religious violence and regret. Why does Bianchi choose such questionable models for inspiration...

What hits first is almost toxic leather. And it's archibugiere leather: superheated, stressed with war, nearly mineral, suffused with charcoal and death. And because it’s Bianchi, immediately beneath it we have orris. But not your frag-bro’s Dior Homme type (that is, lipstick/makeup bag iris: this Hegelian contradiction must be saved for a separate review...). This is dense, compound orris butter—whipped through with gunpowder.

The opening is offensively combustible. Call it IBQ, animalics, smoke—whatever the materials actually are. Phenomenologically, it behaves like napalm: a sustained burn that clings and eats through structure like a Xenomorph’s acid blood. The iris does not disappear. It endures—testament to Bianchi’s facility with this, her signature, material: and it is definitely weirder here than in her other work.

Next, we get rose, but it can't bloom. It just pushes up through scorched ground. This is where the composition becomes genuinely impressive. The familiar Bianchi honeycomb emerges—waxy and animalic. Here it does more than sweeten though: it's like it spills into this conflagration and snuffs out some of the more toxic elements. A strange reminder of the improbable resilience of bees—keystone species in our libidinal economy. Where they go, desire follows.

Thank goodness the smoke here never veers into charred meat territory after so much of the modern artisanal wing of perfumery. When it dissipates, what remains is peppered, leathery orris with waxy honey and the faintest rumor of rose, all revealing themselves to a smoky vetiver core. Where the opening was scorched earth, this is a controlled swidden smoldering, bringing everything into a grim equilibrium in preparation for a future yield. It wears after this for hours with modest projection as the florals and honey settle back into the ground.

The historical trope of the austere mercenary always coincides with epochal rupture. The Black Knight captures this exactly and it feels like a perfect perfume for 2026. Your armor is always symbolic—but will it hold its shape after the latest, most fatal incursion?

The honey, impossibly holding this apocalypse together, reminds me: the black stripes of bees honor no Pope. They mark instead the always-already tarnished collapse of our world itself.

This is a solid leather fragrance and a must-sample if you’re looking for a smoky leather. It’s nothing like Galop, with its uplifting, rose-laced leather, Cuir d’Ange, which evokes a fresh leather handbag, or Ombre Leather, which feels more like finished leather seats. As Nathan86 aptly describes it, this is leather in its production stage—raw yet incredibly smooth and refined.

You’re definitely getting leather here, but it’s not a one-note leather profile. Smoky nuances, an herbal backbone, and a soft woody accord round out the composition. I especially love how the orris root blends seamlessly into the leather, adding elegance without stealing focus. The beeswax note is present as well—a signature in Francesca’s fragrances—but it’s not overly pronounced. This remains a leather-forward scent, with the orris acting as a complementary layer rather than a sweetener.

I don’t get much sweetness or honey here, and while I wouldn’t describe it as overtly earthy—there’s no soil or dirt accord—the herbal elements do give it an earthy impression. The overall smokiness adds a darker, more moody aura to the composition. Performance is solid, and this is easily one of the highlights of the brand. It’s also one of my personal favorites from the lineup.

Bonkers leather. I love a leather perfume, and, if you do too, take it from me that this might push your limits for the genre. This is as if fresh cow hides, hairy and fatty and bloody, tanned hides, tanning chemicals, dyes, and all of the other components that are part of the whole timeline of the leather making process were pulverized together in a massive blender. Lift the lid off and stick you head in for a big whiff. Be careful.

The opening is hot, funky, and metallic, likely the artemisia presenting as wormwood, and also a good dose of caraway. It smells bloody, intent on immediately triggering some angst and alarm. Those notes are swallowed up very quickly by the biggest animalic and chemically tanned leather note I have smelled in a very long time. It is enormous. This isn't finished leather, ready to be sewn into a fine Italian jacket or pair of shoes, it's leather in the middle of the tanning process - where the chemicals and dyes are at full volume, and you can smell them attacking the flesh of the cow. A clever dose of honey adds a skin like sweetness and a decomposed floral note that comes across as "rot", rounding out the odor of skin being violently transformed. At this point in my description, you might be interpreting me as saying that it stinks; don't mistake me, this doesn't "stink", but it certainly doesn't really fit the idea we normally have of smelling good either. This is leather perfume of the avant garde variety, and its potency and performance are going to get you noticed and turn a few heads for better or for worse.

After a few hours everything calms down, and Bianchi's orris butter that she loves so, so much makes an unsurprising appearance, which - unlike the orris in some of her other perfumes - makes a tight and logical connection to the decomposing-floral-sweet-honey note from earlier. Heaping doses of tree moss also help to quieten proceedings by presenting a calming, damp, relaxing hardwood forest note. Vetiver shows up in the heart but becomes more prominent in the skin scent, opting for levity and freshness with aromatic green notes and letting the moss handle the woody notes. I suspect there is some loamy patchouli, and aromatic cedar or sandalwood as well, but, if so, they are a bit lost in the shuffle; something, or somethings, like that are playing around in the background of the base/skin scent, but it's hard to tell.

What a ride The Black Knight has been! It's a roller coaster of a perfume, building you up by taking you to anxious and alarming heights to then slam you down to earth upside-down in a fearful rush, to, finally, some calmness and a moment to catch your breath when the dock is in sight. So far, I have tried Etruscan Water, Encounters, Sticky Fingers, Lost in Heaven, Libertine Neroli, and Angel's Dust, with a few more to go. I have been taken with Etruscan Waters and Encounters the most, but The Black Knight has easily moved into the top spot of the most striking and original perfumes I've yet to try from the brand. Like Etruscan Water and Encounters, I very much want to add The Black Knight to my collection. I look forward to my next ride on the terrifying roller coaster.

The Black Knight by Francesca Bianchi (2019) is a doozy, that's for sure. All the things the "when men were men" guys want in a perfume, and then some. I'm down for something like this returning to the mainstream, although it will probably never happen because last time we were there, restaurants banned perfumes by name, and the myth of the "cologne guy" was born. This perfume was named after the historical character Giovanni Dalle Bande Nere A.K.A. John of the Black Bands (an Italian mercenary captain of the Renaissance period), and is supposed to recall both his stern public character, and his womanizing secret side. I guess it does, as I have not really looked into this figure personally; I just know this one wallops you over the head with aromatics and animalics, with a big black leather accord in the base not unlike some other independent perfumes that with the subject. In particular, Master by Clandestine Laboratories (2021) comes to mind.

The opening gobsmacks you with leather, beeswax, and orris butter, shaped with castoreum and birch tar, some caraway, and a smokiness from the Javanese vetiver being used. There is some rose snuck in here, but it's drier than Death Valley in summer, with patchouli, oakmoss, and artemisia further squeezing any florality right out of it. Like I said, this is a big black leather jacket with a pair of black boots, a white shirt, and slicked hair smoking a cigarette and copping attitude if you look for too long. I suppose any era of "stereotypical male badass" could be inserted into this picture, not just Renaissance renegades and the like, but that's what you're locked in for with wearing The Black Knight. Comparing the only thing I really have smelled which is comparable in any way, Master by Clandestine Laboratories uses a similar black leather structure, but goes much softer and more supple into the base to play up its duality of romance and BDSM culture. Master is still a big manly slab thrust into your awareness, but it knows how to smile and hold your hand; The Black Knight does not.

Performance? Do you need to discuss performance? No, no you really don't with this one, so let's not and say we did. I don't know a ton about Francesca Bianchi other than that she is Italian but based in Amsterdam, doing artisanal independent perfume since 2016. I suppose she pulls a lot of inspiration from her heritage, and that's not a bad thing. This perfume is one hell of a way to make a first impression, that's for sure. As I said earlier, if you were someone who wanted perfumes to once again cater to that hirsute chest hair and beards kind of guy who drives muscle cars and drinks light beer; or the other version of this paradigm where the man is a wolf in sheep's clothing with slightly too-right pants and the top button always oddly undone even when just grocery shopping, then I suppose you've found the return you're looking for with The Black Knight. This is the next level for fans of classics like One Man Show by Jacques Bogart (1980), Jules by Christian Dior (1980), Or Black by Pascal Morabito (1982), Quorum by Antonio Puig (1982), and the like. Thumbs up

A wonderful old school type masculine fragrance that surrounds the skin with class, style and grace. I own 2 bottles from Francesca Bianchi and this house is quickly edging it's way into the top 5 in my vast collection. Wear time is all day long and what's even better is that it's inoffensive yet powerful. I intend to purchase every masculine/unisex fragrance from this house because I already know I'm going to have nothing but positive reactions about them all. The bottle simply looks gorgeous next to the others in my cureo cabinet. It's moderately priced so I'm getting my money's with every application. The bottom line here is it's a Great scent that every single collector would love to have in their fragrance arsenal.

9/10

The Black Knight is on the axis between Lover's Tale and Under My Skin. They all share that Francesca Bianchi accord with animalics and leathers to differing degrees. Under My Skin is the most subdued and comforting. Lover's Tale has a Cuir d'Arabie level skanky leather.

Black Knight is edgy and masculine but not does not assault the senses nor is it inappropriate for many social occasions (like Lover's Tale). If I were a man, I would get this and Etruscan Water. I have Under My Skin and will likely get Luxe Calme Volupte next.