It has been a difficult year for all of us. And it isn’t over yet. But at least there now does seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel.
If Dusita Paris’s previous two fragrance releases – Pavillon D’Or and Moonlight In Chiangmai – reflected the shared introspection and more ruminatory, solitary feeling of nighttime melancholia, the new release, a floral bouquet that would not be amiss at May nuptials, there is a certain bridal giddiness – revels in precisely the olfactory opposite: a proclamation of spring and the sense of desperately wanting to finally burst out of your confined shell.
Composed with highly strung joies de vivre of neroli, tea rose, jasmine, tuberose, ylang ylang and lush greens, Cavatina is a florid rush to the brain; high-pitched, tingeing on insanity and viridescent joy. I don’t have the official list of notes, nor the poem that the fragrance has been inspired by, but the energy and sheer sense of RELEASE that the perfume puts across to the sprayer effortlessly conveys what Pissara Umavijani presumably intends to express. To me this perfume smells of sharp white magnolias on the bough, in all their lemon cream greenness, demanding to be set free.
A ‘cavatina’ is apparently a short operatic aria ( or piece of instrumental music with a classical refrain ); and the scent does have the exuberant directness and alacrity of a soprano’s coloratura. Unweighted by woods or the heavier notes, all here is in the higher registers, very feminine and unrestrained. For me personally, the word ‘cavatina’ evokes childhood summers playing the piano, when my grandparents and other relatives would always request me to play the main theme from The Deerhunter – also called Cavatina, with the windows opening onto the garden outside on Sunday evenings when it was still light, and a piece of music I don’t think I could bear to listen to right now for its heart-rippingly emotive melody, at a moment when we have no idea when we will be able to actually get back to England again. Will it be next year? or the year after that ? Or even the one after that … ?
I know, of course, that we are not alone in our own predicament. It is the same for so many people around the world at this unprecedented, stressful time. In many ways, we are stuck. With our memories, in one place. Thwarted. On the pause button.What Pissara Umijavani seems to be saying is, yes, but this doesn’t mean that you can’t still enjoy the world around you, the flowers of summer and spring; that – if you enjoy high octaved rushes of garlanded green flowers – some will find this shrill – that the small, enjoyable pleasures in life can still be precious.