Viride
Orto Parisi (2014)

Viride is a shaving-foam barbershop perfume with lavender, witchy licorice-domain herbs, rosemary/mint, pine/fir forest elements, spices, and some tonka in the base. But being Orto Parisi, its primary objective is not to represent and extend the category of the fougère, but rather to complete a fantasy by disavowing the necessary facticity of its own symbolic castration, staging a theater of provocation that apportions anxiety as it sees fit and, of course, by attempting to become the object—the only object—that can synthesize (or plug) the wandering jouissance of the Other: the wearer of this perfume.

It begins with a bizarre, spicy, metallic, extraterrestrial “mint” and gets weirder and more defiant from there. Lavender is present—I think—quite early, and it adds a raw, dry camphor element to a composition that reminds me of sniffing a corroded brass bell. In the far dry down, the remorselessly synthetic greenness settles, and there is a subtle, milky tonka that is not unpleasant. There are spices throughout as well, maybe, and some sort of amberwoods musk seemingly present early that lends a strange but mild fishiness to the robo-herbs, all of it making you think it is a ship’s bell you are smelling.

In fact, let’s roll with this conceit:

You’re on summer second dogwatch in the middle of the ocean, stars not yet out. First rises an uncanny metallic herbaceousness from your pocket: have you a witch's homunculus in there with all her anisic tinctures and life-lengthening smudges of dry weeds kept in a tiny rusty tin? No, it is where you keep a gift from your robot alien friend: robotic alien mint he made for you on a 3D printer in the Beta Gammatron IV system. You notice the king plank of fir has been newly planed, and your cargo is cans of Barbasol and diet root beer and a small heap of raw earth. You’ve been plodding for days through the horse latitudes, and the hold isn’t ventilated properly—it’s far too hot. The cans of shaving foam and spiced soda are beyond where pressure can be contained and they burst and saturate the moldering soil: another victory for thermodynamics over commerce's best-laid—and doubtlessly, most modestly priced—engineering prophylactics. Pacing the deck above, you are little more than bemused by this bouquet as it rises through the fresh-shaved wood smell. After all this time, just when you think these pretty gross aromas have run their course, you see almond trees blossoming on land in the distance and catch a faint whiff of marzipan. Viride.

*It is worth recognizing the story behind this perfume, according to the brand: it is supposed to evoke the smell of the “Flower Men” of Saudi Arabia’s ‘Asir province (abutting Yemen), members of the Qahtan tribe, who traditionally wear intricate crowns of herbs, flowers, and grasses for beauty and health. I don't get any florals from this perfume and this interpretation is extremely abstract, so I don't think it's meant to be "naturalistic" or "serious" in any normal way.

Here’s my take on it - I find myself walking through an ancient forest , a forest of dark green fern . The kinda forest where you’d juice grass . The kind of forest where the cows roam with endless grass . I kinda get a bracken man nuance . Very subtle , I also get an old school barber shop kinda vibe .In my head if you had a Scotland amouage Fougere for a green scent slightly Irish spring niche kinda vibe . If I lived in area that was greener or maybe I hiked more like CO , I’d definitely want to buy this at a full bottle ! However , if I can find a 10ml decant I’d be set !

Overall I really enjoy this fragrance and the experience I’m getting . I’ll have to keep this sample for Christmas time !

Viride is one of my favorite from the Orto Parisi--line. This green (somewhat earthy and grassy) fragrance is a blend of herbal, rooty, mossy, woody and piney notes lightened and soothed by milder spices, tonka and probably hints of amber. There is a sheer "forest feel" projected out there by this green creation. The juice possesses a modern fougère vibe (somewhat laundry, balsamic, vaguely nutty and bitter-herbal) and I wonder if elements as anise, vetiver, tobacco and angelica are effectively included in the blend. Dry down is still green but in a mossier-spicy way with hints of warm resins and supposedly amber (finally the aroma is woodier, cedary and supposedly with hints of opoponax or frankincense under my profane nose). There is an undiscerned spicy accord providing this final kind of nutty and rounded "yummy" feel. A modern forest-creation quite urban, spicy-exotic and versatile (night and day usage).

Viride is my second try from the house of Orto Parisi after Boccanera, and like Boccanera, I quite like Viride. Again omitting specific notes, perhaps a feature of this brand like Nasomatto, Viride is a green and woody fragrance as generally categorized.

It's hearty, with plenty of depth, so a mix of woods is what mainly comes to mind, though there's a slight, subtle brightness that allows it to be, at the same time, sort of green.

I can't quite discern what notes are involved, only that there's an earthy side to it as well, perhaps with patchouli or vetiver.

Performance is outstanding, as it was with Boccanera, definitely a little more impressive on longevity than projection, as many are, but still powerful juice if you dig the fragrance. The price of even a perfume ($195 for 50ml on Luckyscent et al) is difficult to justify unless it's a love, as almost $4 per ml is on the pricier side for sure.

Viride is certainly a fragrance worth trying, but I doubt anything but a dramatic price reduction could make me have any serious interest in buying it. Still, I rather like it, just don't love it.

7 out of 10

Grass, herbs, woods

I like this scent. It is VERY woody from the get-go. It has some striking but brief cool-herbal notes -- perhaps basil and artemisia. It develops into a smouldering woody brew with a pronounced balsamic spine. The balsam makes it a tiny bit sweet but it it not problematic. At times the balsam even seems a bit like cocoa powder. Cedar is the prominent wood, along with a bit of some kind of incense. Great longevity, wears well and is enjoyable for wood fans.

Viride tricks you into thinking Gualtieri's gone back in time, but Viride–the name of a deep, jelly-green andalusite gemstone–is built upon his usual bag of tricks. Highly unnatural and cranked up to at least thirteen, the scent blasts off with some coniferous items merged with herbs–some of which run a tad minty. This digital forest pushes the scent a tad too “cleaning product” at times, but reels itself in before falling apart completely. Picture a wall of anonymous “green” scented chemicals over a slightly powdery base (that gets progressively sweeter as the scent develops) and you'll have a sense of what this is about. Slight vegetal, mossy, herbal, coniferous notes are present, but bleed together because of the sheer volume. Also, I'd argue that the weed note that pops up in the Nasomatto line makes a return here–it's subtle, but I think it's there. There's no space, no definition, no real texture, just volume. The result is paradoxical: opportunities were clearly missed to inject dynamics; yet despite the total barrage, it somehow manages to keep keep within the limits of decency. Like much of Gualtieri's work, Viridine can be compared to the kind of digital music production that overuses compression–all of the peaks and valleys are smashed flat, and the result is amplified to speaker-destroying levels. This is an inarticulate scent–but it has a home amongst other scents that place insane longevity and projection as a primary concern.