Io Non Ho Mani Che Mi Accarezzino il Volto
Carnation | Spice | Tobacco
Marked by equal parts apprehension and enthusiasm, Io Non Ho Mani Che Mi Accarezzino Il Volto (I Have No Hands to Caress My Face) is an olfactory work of profound symbolism. A testament, a statement, a fixated glance held uncomfortably long …, a moment frozen in time.
Io Non Ho Mani is a rendering of the soul and a portrait of ceaseless innocence. Bearing the name of its inspiration, Mario Giocomelli’s eponymous photographs (an individual who Sorcinelli knew) capture moments in time where young student priests in their stark black cassocks are set against white blankets of snow in Senigallia, contrasting a ludic boyish spirit with the severe solemnity of priestly life. Some might call this spirit foolishness, others might call this the unshakable creativity of the human spirit - in spite of all asceticism. The bottle itself is reminiscent of cassocks in movement, caught up in the jovial motions of innocent play. For us, Io Non Ho Mani is like an ancestral memory, a memory that may not even be our own, but entirely of our possession - something we have all felt before.
And the smell? Giacomelli had provided the young priests with cigars for use in his photography, only to then be cut off by the supervisory rector. And so, the scent is one of richly spiced tobacco, with cinnamon, carnation, clove, and amber accents - a bitter medicinal and herbal quality saturates the work. With a pronounced leather note that runs throughout the composition, Io Non Ho Mani is squarely a retro leather-chypre with an apparent inky mossy base. To give a certain raspiness, cedar and styrax are employed to great effect. The liturgical aspect, as is usual for Sorcinelli, comes from a fine dose of olibanum and myrrh resins. At times, Io Non Ho Mani is like hiding a contraband packet of cigarettes in the inner pocket of a leather jacket or deep in a wooden chest. Smell Io Non Ho Mani closely, and perceive the surroundings of the world begin to melt…
Io Non Ho Mani (David Maria Turoldo)
"There are no hands to caress my face,
hard is the office of these words which do not know love.
I do not know the sweetness of your abandonment:
I had to be the caretaker of your loneliness:
I am a saviour of lost hours."
Petitgrain, Bergamot, Galbanum
Geranium, Clary Sage, Cinnamon Leaf, Styrax, Ylang-Ylang, Cedar, Myrrh
Incense, Benzoin, Tonka Bean, Tobacco, Amber, Sandalwood
Perfumer: Filippo Sorcinelli
EXTRAIT DE PARFUM 100ML