I've been testing/wearing Wazamba for weeks. Other fragrances come and go and I can usually get a handle on them, or at least find a path that leads from testing to appreciating to describing without too much of a struggle, but the elegant simplicity of perfumer Marc Antoine Corticchiato's composition for Parfum d'Empire comes across as not so much another work of commercial fluff but a statement piece with art on its mind.
Did I say art? I mean, it's about 30% aromatic Balsam Fir, 60% exotic incense resins and 10% crisp tart fruit -- that should be easy enough to just jot down and summarize without going all museum quality on its a**, right? And while I could end the review right there ("Woo-hoo! Thumbs up!"), I wouldn't really be doing justice to the obvious effort that went into producing Wazamba if that's all I wrote.
Because we all know what a healthy dose of pine can smell like in an enclosed space -- and while the Balsam Fir is best known as the preferred Christmas tree of North America (with all those holiday scents, memories and emotions bundled up in its one prickly package), the smell of pine is also deeply associated in the American mindset with the sharp, approaching medicinal smell of home cleaning solutions (i.e. Pine Sol).
So to introduce the scent of Balsam Fir into a personal fragrance without #1) stomping all over the holidays or #2) reminding everyone within a twenty foot radius of a newly mopped floor is, in my mind, a real and definite achievement, and any perfumer who has the ability to tame the beautiful but bucking bronco of the coniferous beast into such a sweet and contemplative submission as Corticchiato has managed in Wazamba scores high points on my chart of 'People I Like to Write Nice Things About'.
Admittedly, I'm not the only one writing nice things about Corticchiato and Wazamba. Some quotes from other enthusiastic reviewers below:
Denyse at Grain de Musc: "Wazamba doesn't really feel like a perfume, or rather, it feels like perfume drawn back to its primary meaning, per-fumare: precious resins and woods burnt in offering to the gods."
Abigail at I Smell Therefore I Am: "I absolutely love Wazamba and find it incredibly wearable . . . fresh, resinous yet soft and enveloping. It does not take center stage but instead provides a back drop for peaceful activities."
Marin at AntiM and the Rickety Blog: "Mmmmm... fresh-cut pine backed by a dollop of sweet-but-not-too, round, smoky, resiny incense ... this is one of the best smokes I've sniffed . . . It is to be noted that Aaron (the filing clerk) walked into my office and went all dreamy and forgot what he was going to say: 'Wow. It smells *really* good in here.'"
Kevin at Now Smell This: "Wazamba combines what I liked about (Parum d'Empire's) Yuzu Fou and Aziyadé (resins, fruit and incense) into one bottle."
The Perfume of Life (POL) forum even features a recent thread dedicated solely to Wazamba, filling up with posts from various members in states of bubbling delight: "My knees are getting weak!" and so on.
The scent notes that are offered as a guide through Wazamba's halls are: Somalian incense, Kenyan myrrh, Ethiopian opoponax, Indian sandalwood, Moroccan cypress, labdanum, apple and fir balsam. The fir balsam is especially notable for how realistic and yet gently it comes across. I really like the Annick Goutal take on Balsam Fir (Encens Flamboyant), but am sometimes a little bowled over by how powerful a punch it packs of smoke and pine needles -- Wazamba's Fir trees are warmer, softer, like dozing in the back seat of a car as you're being driven through a northern forest on a sunny October afternoon, the windows rolled down just an inch, wood smoke curling from the occasional farmhouse chimney as you glide past.
The incense trio of frankincense, myrrh/opoponax (opoponax is another type of sweet myrrh) and labdanum wrap themselves around the spikier tones of fir balsam, cushioning its sharper edges, and the sweet, tart tang of apple hanging about in the background is a genuine surprise, though it makes a sort of nostalgic sense to this Michigan native who grew up associating the combined aromas of pine trees, apple orchards and burning wood & leaves as the welcome transition from hot, muggy summer to cool, crisp autumn.
Sometimes I think I'm also getting a whiff of candied orange or sugared lemon, then at turns it's tart and green and I think, "Okay, yes, there's the apple" -- but the fruit notes are subtle and the overall scent can be confidently placed within the smoky, woodsy category (with a smattering of fruit plate!) -- a category of which I heartily approve.
The packaging for the Parfum d'Empire brand is clean and somewhat minimal, but with warm colors that prevent it from seeming stark or utilitarian. The bottle for Wazamba is tall, slender and rounded, the glass is thick without being overly heavy, the cap is curved and etched, and the exterior packaging is a colored & printed carboard tube that visually presages the shape of the enclosed bottle.
The atomizer is a decent one, too, which is an important part of the puzzle as a beautiful presentation can be marred by perfume dripping down my hands from a leaky atomizer. The spray isn't as fine as what you'll get from a Chanel Les Exclusifs (I just went back to using my Chanel Sycomore last week and the mist from the atomizer was so delicate and airy as to be almost surreal), so you'll need to hold the bottle a bit further away from the body for better coverage.
I've read a few comments about how powerful and in your face Wazamba is, yet other reviewers (including myself) have found it to be soft and meditative, instead. Perhaps this is a personal reaction to the scent of the Balsam Fir? Not everyone experiences a scent in exactly the same way, and there may be a number of fragrance consumers who find the use of Balsam Fir, no matter how deftly blended, to be just one pine over the line (sweet jesus).
Wazamba's longevity is excellent, lasting 8+ hours on the skin (especially when applied generously), and as an experiment, I wore it to the bustling Neiman Marcus pre-opening night gala without a ripple from the people around me, so it plays nicely with crowds (and yes, even when applied generously -- 8-12 sprays).
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