Showing posts with label Hyemalis Anthelia 1848. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hyemalis Anthelia 1848. Show all posts

Monday, May 1, 2023

Hyemalis Anthelia 1848

Hyemalis Anthelia by Guerlain, launched in 1848 as part of the Jardin d’Hiver Collection, was a poetic reflection of winter’s fragile beauty. The name itself is steeped in classical elegance: Hyemalis (pronounced “hee-eh-MA-lis”) derives from Latin and means of winter, while Anthelia (pronounced “an-THEE-lee-ah”) comes from the Greek anti (against) and helios (sun), literally meaning “against the sun.” Together, they evoke the image of a luminous flower that dares to bloom during the coldest, dimmest days of the year — a symbol of endurance, quiet strength, and renewal.

To mid-19th century audiences, such a name would have carried both intellectual charm and poetic depth. This was an age when classical education and scientific curiosity intertwined with aesthetics — when botany, mythology, and art were united in a single romantic vision of nature. “Hyemalis Anthelia” would have conjured a sense of cultivated refinement: the imagery of pale yellow blossoms gleaming through frost, or sunlight refracted through the glass panes of a winter conservatory. The women who wore it likely saw in it an emblem of grace and inner radiance — the ability to remain serene and luminous, even amid the chill of social or seasonal constraint.

The year 1848 was a period of immense cultural change. Europe was swept by revolutions, yet Paris — the epicenter of refinement and fashion — continued to be captivated by beauty and innovation. Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection perfectly mirrored this duality: a yearning for natural simplicity expressed through the sophistication of perfumery. Fashion at the time favored demure silhouettes, pale colors, and delicate fabrics — a restrained elegance that echoed the same balance of purity and sensuality embodied by “Hyemalis Anthelia.”

In scent, the perfume would likely have interpreted its name through radiant yellow florals and tender greenery, capturing the promise of spring emerging from the winter earth. The inspiration flower, Eranthis hyemalis (winter aconite), carries a soft pollen-like aroma with nuances of honey, buttercup, and fresh sap. Guerlain might have rendered this impression with mimosa, jonquil, and heliotrope, accenting their powdery sweetness with subtle herbal and green facets — perhaps galbanum or violet leaf to suggest the chill of early dawn.

A faint citrus or aldehydic brightness could have been woven in to symbolize sunlight striking snow, while orris or benzoin would lend a powdery warmth beneath, creating an elegant transition from icy freshness to gentle warmth. The result would have been a floral-green fragrance dusted with golden light — refined, uplifting, and quietly luminous.

In the context of mid-19th century perfumery, Hyemalis Anthelia would have stood out for its delicate, botanical naturalism. Where many perfumes still leaned heavily on animalic or amber bases, Guerlain’s creation celebrated freshness and light. It was a fragrance of intellectual grace — the scent of an awakening world, of cultured femininity poised between nature and art. To wear it would have been to embody the very spirit of resilience and renewal that the name so poetically proclaimed.


Jardin d’Hiver Collection:


Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection, launched in 1848, represents a remarkable celebration of botanical singularity and refined artistry. Each fragrance within the collection is devoted to a single floral or plant note, captured with painstaking care to highlight its unique character and essence. The collection’s Latin-styled names—Tilia microphylla, Lathyrus odorans, Mimosa fragrans, Cyperus ruber, and the most recent addition (1853), Mimosa Esterhazya—lend an air of classical sophistication, evoking the scholarly prestige and aristocratic refinement associated with the study of plants and natural sciences. These names, both precise and exotic, signal the high level of craft and attention devoted to each fragrance, appealing to a clientele who valued knowledge, taste, and exclusivity.

At the 1851 Universal Exposition, these perfumes competed not merely as products of luxury, but as demonstrations of technical mastery and artistic innovation. Each extrait is a distillation of a single botanical note, conveying the essence of the plant in a way that is at once vivid, nuanced, and enduring. Tilia microphylla, for instance, would have unfolded with the delicate, honeyed softness of its linden blossoms, while Mimosa fragrans exudes a sunlit, powdery warmth, evocative of early spring mornings. Cyperus ruber, with its earthy, subtly green facets, contrasts with the intensely floral sweetness of Lathyrus odorans, creating a spectrum of olfactory experiences within a unified concept.

The collection was designed for the highest echelons of society, intended for women who were not merely consumers of fragrance but arbiters of taste and refinement. These perfumes were not relegated to the dressing table as casual adornments; they were worn as statements of identity and prestige, perfuming the air with subtlety and elegance. In essence, the Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodies the aristocratic ethos of mid-19th century Paris—a union of botanical scholarship, artistic sophistication, and the cultivated elegance expected of the queens of fashion and fortune. Each fragrance is an intimate portrait of a singular flower, captured with the utmost care, and presented as a jewel of olfactory refinement.



Fragrance Composition:



So what does it smell like? If one could smell Hyemalis Anthelia today, it would likely unfold like a delicate painting of winter giving way to spring — a luminous floral-green composition that captures the quiet radiance of sunlight filtering through frost-covered glass. Its aroma would be gentle yet complex, balancing crisp freshness with tender warmth, like breathing in the cool morning air of a winter garden where the first flowers have dared to bloom.

At first inhale, you might detect a sparkling brightness, suggesting the glint of sunlight on snow. This could have been created through bergamot, bitter orange, or perhaps a note resembling frozen lemon peel, lending an initial clarity and purity to the air. These light, volatile top notes would mimic the sharp chill of early morning, awakening the senses much like a sudden shaft of light in a dim conservatory.

Almost immediately, the heart of the fragrance would begin to soften — a delicate bouquet evoking winter aconite’s golden blossoms. The central accord might have blended mimosa and jonquil for their honeyed, pollen-rich character, gently sweet and softly powdery. A hint of heliotrope could have deepened this floral warmth, adding its creamy, almond-like nuance that bridges the cool florals to a sunlit tenderness.

Threaded through this golden heart would be green and earthy notes, perhaps violet leaf or galbanum, capturing the scent of damp soil just beginning to thaw — the living breath of nature stirring beneath the frost. These green tones would have lent realism and freshness, ensuring that the composition never grew too heavy or cloying.

As the perfume settled, its base would reveal a quiet, comforting warmth. Orris root would provide a velvety, powdery finish, softly reminiscent of the texture of flower petals and fine suede gloves. Benzoin or styrax might add a faint resinous sweetness, echoing the gentle amber light of a late winter sun. Together, they would create a halo of warmth around the cool florals, evoking that moment when winter begins to surrender and light returns.

The overall impression would be delicate yet luminous — a harmony of cool air and golden bloom. It would not shout its beauty, but rather whisper it: refined, quietly optimistic, and deeply feminine. Hyemalis Anthelia would smell of new beginnings — of silk gowns rustling through winter salons, of pale flowers arranged in porcelain urns beside frosted windows, of serenity touched by sunlight. It would embody Guerlain’s early genius for turning nature’s fleeting grace into timeless elegance.



Bottle:



Presented in the carre flacon.


Petit courrier des dames: Journal des modes, 1848:

"By creating the Château des Fleurs, inventing the Jardin d’Hiver, and making flowers fashionable in all the salons of Paris, the trend of perfumery simultaneously returned—after having been somewhat neglected due to the overuse of amber, musk, and vetiver. Yet the perfumes that reappear today bear no resemblance to those bourgeois emanations of old-fashioned coquetry. At Guerlain, 11 Rue de la Paix, however, belongs the right to this thoroughly modern renewal, offering compositions more delicate, more suave, more gentle on the nerves, and more voluptuous to the sense of smell than any other.

Ladies of good society are recognized by these perfumes, just as the high lineage of noble families is recognized by their coats of arms; and when a lock of hair flutters near you, when a magnificent handkerchief falls beside you, or when a fresh, coquettish glove happens to brush near your lips, you can judge by the fragrance emanating from that hair, that handkerchief, or those gloves whether the woman to whom they belong has received at Guerlain the mark of good taste, fashion, and refinement.

New odors composed by Guerlain:
  • Extrait de Lolium agriphyllum 
  • Extrait de Phlomis asplenia, 
  • Extrait d'Azalea melaleuca
  • Extrait de Cyparisse Elaidon
  • Extrait d'Hyemalis anthelia
  • Extrait de Cytise sylvaria 
  • Extrait d'Anthemia nobilis 
  • Extrait de Cyperus ruber  
  • Extrait de Tilia micropluilla
  • Extrait d'Hymenaea nitida 
  • Extrait de Mimosa fragrans
  • Extrait de Caryophilus album 
  • Extrait d'Amyris Polyolens 
  • Extrait de Polyanthe suaveolens  
  • Extrait de Lathyrus odorans  
  • Extrait d'Ocymum dulce 

By bringing to light these entirely new perfumes, Guerlain points out that they can only be found at home, and recommends to be on guard against the imitations that one will try to make."

Guerlain's Talc de Toilette

 Guerlain's Talc de Toilette was housed inside of a tin enameled in blue, off white and black.