Within the silence of the sacred stone walls and smooth marble floors, flickering altar candles radiate hints of wax, ashes and chilled frankincense.

High above the mountain forests, between snow fields and bare rock, the crystal-clear nocturnal sky carries the scent of cold wood and eternal ice.

Freshly broken twigs, spiced grasses and dark green nettles mark the path of the noble savage through the undergrowth of the wooded hills.

A dark, spicy warmth reveals the presence of the great beast. Typhon, or Typhoeus, once ruled the deepest realms of Hades. Klimt places him at the center of the hostile forces, in shades of black, brown and uncanny blue.

A fragrance as intangible as Klimt’s golden vision of the Elysian Fields: “an ideal realm, wherein alone we can find pure joy, pure happiness, pure love.” It wears like a subtle, immaterial cloak of bright light, verdant freshness and subdued florality.

According to Freud, the uncanny is the familiar and the unfamiliar at once. This fragrance is an attempt to capture that quality: Dark, clean, dirty, innocent, erotic, unsettling and intriguing at the same time, there is no familiar category that fits this composition.