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Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab: Ex Cathedra

Halloween 2015 Fragrances Abound! Plus an Update from the Pickman Gallery

Halloween 2015 Fragrances Abound! Plus an Update from the Pickman Gallery

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The skies have darkened, and summer’s last bright green leaf has turned. Halloween is here at BlackPhoenix Alchemy Lab.

The Halloween sets, including the Pickman Gallery, will be live until December 28th.

++ HALLOWEEN 2015

ALL SOULS

A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.

DIA DE LOS MUERTOS

A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte... Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "...chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.

FEEDING THE DEAD

A barrel of beer, a pyramid of cakes, and three sticks of incense.

FROSTED PUMPKIN SPICE COOKIE

With cinnamon, nutmeg, browned butter, and cream cheese icing.

LE REVENANT

Comme les anges à l'oeil fauve,
Je reviendrai dans ton alcôve
Et vers toi glisserai sans bruit
Avec les ombres de la nuit;
Et je te donnerai, ma brune,
Des baisers froids comme la lune
Et des caresses de serpent
Autour d'une fosse rampant.
Quand viendra le matin livide,
Tu trouveras ma place vide,
Où jusqu'au soir il fera froid.
Comme d'autres par la tendresse,
Sur ta vie et sur ta jeunesse,
Moi, je veux régner par l'effroi.

- - -

Like angels with wild beast's eyes
I shall return to your bedroom
And silently glide toward you
With the shadows of the night;
And, dark beauty, I shall give you
Kisses cold as the moon
And the caresses of a snake
That crawls around a grave.
When the livid morning comes,
You'll find my place empty,
And it will be cold there till night.
I wish to hold sway over
Your life and youth by fear,
As others do by tenderness.

-- Charles Baudelaire, translation by William Aggeler.

A shroud of gardenia, narcissus, and sandalwood with ambrette seed, white cognac, muguet, davana, and white musk.

MAGNIFICENT AUTUMN

By what a subtle alchemy the green leaves are transmuted into gold, as if molten by the fiery blaze of the hot sun! A magic covering spreads over the whole forest, and brightens into more gorgeous hues. The tree-tops seem bathed with the gold and crimson of an Italian sunset. Here and there a shade of green, here and there a tinge of purple, and a stain of scarlet so deep and rich, that the most cunning artifice of man is pale beside it. A thousand delicate shades melt into each other. They blend fantastically into one deep mass. They spread over the forest like a tapestry woven with a thousand hues.

Magnificent Autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds. He comes not like a hermit, clad in gray. But he comes like a warrior, with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

The scene changes. It is the Indian summer. The rising sun blazes through the misty air like a conflagration. A yellowish,smoky haze fills the atmosphere; and

--A filmy mist,
Lies like a silver lining on the sky.

The wind is soft and low. It wafts to us the odor of forest leaves, that hang wilted on the dripping branches, or drop into the stream. Their gorgeous tints are gone, as if the autumnal rains had washed them out. Orange, yellow, and scarlet, all are changed to one melancholy russet hue. The birds, too, have taken wing, and have left their roofless dwellings. Not the whistle of a robin, not the twitter of an eavesdropping swallow, not the carol of one sweet, familiar voice! All gone. Only the dismal cawing of a crow, as he sits and curses, that the harvest is over, – or the chit-chat of an idle squirrel, – the noisy denizen of a hollow tree, – the mendicant friar of a large parish, – the absolute monarch of a dozen acorns!

Another change.

The wind sweeps through the forest with a sound like the blast of a trumpet. The dry leaves whirl in eddies through the air. A fret-work of hoar-frost covers the plain. The stagnant water in the pools and ditches is frozen into fantastic figures. Nature ceases from her labors, and prepares for the great change.

In the low-hanging clouds, the sharp air, like a busy shuttle, weaves her shroud of snow. There is a melancholy and continual roar in the tops of the tall pines, like the roar of a cataract. It is the funeral anthem of the dying year.

A scent that wanders through the Ages of Autumn, from the last green leaf to the first breath of winter.

OCTOBER

Ay, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, ‘mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.

Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air.

PUMPKIN CHEESECAKE CUPCAKE

Because this is all that I’ve wanted out of life for months.

PUMPKIN LAGER

A peculiar point of contention: you either love it or hate it, and however you feel, it’s passionate.

SAMHAIN

Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest
touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.

SECOND SPRING

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
- Albert Camus

An accolade: drifting leaves tinted in the bold reds of pomegranate and currant, the golds of amber and honey, russet myrrh, a touch of cypress-green, and crisp patchouli-brown.

SONNET D’AUTOMNE

Ils me disent, tes yeux, clairs comme le cristal:
“Pour toi, bizarre amant, quel est donc mon mérite?”
- Sois charmante et tais-toi! Mon coeur, que tout irrite,
Excepté la candeur de l’antique animal,
Ne veut pas te montrer son secret infernal,
Berceuse dont la main aux longs sommeils m’invite,
Ni sa noire légende avec la flamme écrite.
Je hais la passion et l’esprit me fait mal!
Aimons-nous doucement. L’Amour dans sa guérite,
Ténébreux, embusqué, bande son arc fatal.
Je connais les engins de son vieil arsenal:
Crime, horreur et folie! – Ô pâle marguerite!
Comme moi n’es-tu pas un soleil automnal,
Ô ma si blanche, ô ma si froide Marguerite?

-

They say to me, your eyes, clear as crystal:
“For you, bizarre lover, what is my merit then?”
- Be charming and be still! My heart, which all things irk,
Except the candor of the animals of old,
Does not wish to reveal its black secret to you,
Whose lulling hands invite me to long sleep,
Nor its somber legend written with flame.
I hate passion; intelligence makes me suffer!
Let us love each other sweetly. Tenebrous Love,
Ambushed in his shelter, stretches his fatal bow.
I know all the weapons of his old arsenal:
Crime, horror, and madness! – pale marguerite!
Are you not, like me, an autumnal sun,
O my Marguerite, so white and so cold?

– Charles Baudelaire, translated by William Aggeler

Tenebrous Love: a shivering white musk with vanilla-infused white cocoa, amber incense, and dead, dry leaves.

SUGAR SKULL

Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.

SWEET WILLIAM’S GHOST

There came a ghost to Margret’s door,
With many a grievous groan,
And ay he tirled at the pin,
But answer made she none.

‘Is that my father Philip,
Or is’t my brother John?
Or is’t my true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home?’

‘’Tis not thy father Philip,
Nor yet thy brother John;
But ’tis thy true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home.

‘O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.’

‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till that thou come within my bower,
And kiss my cheek and chin.’

‘If I shoud come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man;
And shoud I kiss thy rosy lips,
Thy days will not be lang.

‘O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.’

‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till you take me to yon kirk,
And wed me with a ring.’

‘My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard,
Afar beyond the sea,
And it is but my spirit, Margret,
That’s now speaking to thee.’

She stretchd out her lilly-white hand,
And, for to do her best,
‘Hae, there’s your faith and troth, Willy,
God send your soul good rest.’

Now she has kilted her robes of green
A piece below her knee,
And a’ the live-lang winter night
The dead corp followed she.

‘Is there any room at your head, Willy?
Or any room at your feet?
Or any room at your side, Willy,
Wherein that I may creep?’

‘There’s no room at my head, Margret,
There’s no room at my feet;
There’s no room at my side, Margret,
My coffin’s made so meet.’

Then up and crew the red, red cock,
And up then crew the gray:
‘Tis time, tis time, my dear Margret,
That you were going away.’

No more the ghost to Margret said,
But, with a grievous groan,
Evanishd in a cloud of mist,
And left her all alone.

‘O stay, my only true-love, stay,’
The constant Margret cry’d;
Wan grew her cheeks, she closd her een,
Stretchd her soft limbs, and dy’d.

Is there any room at your head, Willy? Or any room at your feet? Or any room at your side, Willy,
wherein that I may creep? A scent of unendurable grief and longing: pale orris root and honeyed white lily chilled by wild carrot and cognac, pulled into a winding sheet of white jasmine, tobacco flower, tuberose, and patchouli.

THE UNQUIET GRAVE

“The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love,
In cold grave she was lain.”

“I’ll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.”

The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak:
“Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?”

“’T is I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek.”

“You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
But my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.

“’Tis down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that e’re was seen
Is withered to a stalk.

“The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away.”

One kiss of clay-cold lips: frozen white roses, frankincense, white gardenia, white sandalwood, and vanilla orchid.

THE VAMPIRE BRIDE

"I am come-I am come! once again from the tomb,
In return for the ring which you gave;
That I am thine, and that thou art mine,
This nuptial pledge receive."
He lay like a corse 'neath the Demon's force,
And she wrapp'd him in a shroud;
And she fixed her teeth his heart beneath,
And she drank of the warm life-blood!
And ever and anon murmur'd the lips of stone,
"Soft and warm is this couch of thine,
Thou'lt to-morrow be laid on a colder bed-
Albert! that bed will be mine!"
- Henry Thomas Liddell

Icy skin touched by a perfume of violet leaf, white tea, olibanum, elemi, myrrh, wormwood, crypt dust, and saffron with a dribble of blood red musk.

THE WHITE WITCH

O brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night.
Trust not your prowess nor your strength,
Your only safety lies in flight;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.

The great white witch you have not seen?
Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth,
Like nursery children you have looked
For ancient hag and snaggle-tooth;
But no, not so; the witch appears
In all the glowing charms of youth.

Her lips are like carnations, red,
Her face like new-born lilies, fair,
Her eyes like ocean waters, blue,
She moves with subtle grace and air,
And all about her head there floats
The golden glory of her hair.

But though she always thus appears
In form of youth and mood of mirth,
Unnumbered centuries are hers,
The infant planets saw her birth;
The child of throbbing Life is she,
Twin sister to the greedy earth.

And back behind those smiling lips,
And down within those laughing eyes,
And underneath the soft caress
Of hand and voice and purring sighs,
The shadow of the panther lurks,
The spirit of the vampire lies.

For I have seen the great white witch,
And she has led me to her lair,
And I have kissed her red, red lips
And cruel face so white and fair;
Around me she has twined her arms,
And bound me with her yellow hair.

I felt those red lips burn and sear
My body like a living coal;
Obeyed the power of those eyes
As the needle trembles to the pole;
And did not care although I felt
The strength go ebbing from my soul.

Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs,
And heard your laughter loud and gay,
And in your voices she has caught
The echo of a far-off day,
When man was closer to the earth;
And she has marked you for her prey.

She feels the old Antaean strength
In you, the great dynamic beat
Of primal passions, and she sees
In you the last besieged retreat
Of love relentless, lusty, fierce,
Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet.

O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night.
O, younger brothers mine, beware!
Look not upon her beauty bright;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.

Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet: gold-flecked honey amber pulsating with red musk, patchouli coeur, bourbon vanilla, inky vetiver, pomegranate rind, myrrh, blackened violet leaf, and blood red rose petals.

++ HALLOWEEN 2015: PILE OF LEAVES

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Every leaf tells a story.

DEAD LEAVES AND TOBACCO

DEAD LEAVES, HONEY, AND OUDH

DEAD LEAVES, RED MUSK, AND NEROLI

DEAD LEAVES, BOURBON VANILLA, AND MYRRH

DEAD LEAVES, BLACK PEPPER, AND SANDALWOOD

DEAD LEAVES, FRANKINCENSE, AND COPAL

++ HALLOWEEN 2015: BOBBING FOR APPLES

A pastime thought to have its roots in fertility and mate-hunting divination. Presented, for your
pleasure, a selection of apples to bob for.

APPLE I

Apple with hay absolute, oats, honey, cream vanilla, and goat’s milk accord.

APPLE II

Green apple with pink pepper, Himalayan cedar, juniper berries, and lemon rind.

APPLE III

Appalachian black apple with sweet tobacco and patchouli, orange blossom, vanilla champaca,lavender, and white honey.

APPLE IV

Red apple with blackcurrant bud, black clove, and vanilla bourbon.

APPLE V

Apple with white coconut, fig, and tiare.

++ SINGLE NOTES: HALLOWEEN

costumes

Black Phoenix's cheeky interpretation of the iconic scents of the season. No actual single notes – or clowns – were harmed during the creation of these blends.

APPLE CIDER

BONFIRE

CANDIED APPLE

CLOWN WHITE

DISAPPOINTING PENCIL

GRAVEYARD DIRT REDUX

PUMPKIN SPICE EVERYTHING

STAGE BLOOD

POLYESTER SPIDERWEB

- - -

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

MEPHISTOPHELES AND MEDEA MAKE AN ENTRANCE AT ARKHAM’S PICKMAN GALLERY

Sympathy for the Devil: An Intimate Evening With Old Scratch and Hecate’s Inheritance: Witches, Our Sisters on view at the Pickman Gallery from September 18 to December 28, 2015

Arkham, MA (March 13, 2015)— On view from September 18 through December 28, 2015,at Pickman Gallery, Arkham, MA, Sympathy for the Devil: An Intimate Evening With Old Scratch and Hecate’s Inheritance: Witches, Our Sisters. Sympathy for the Devil is guest curated by the Rhode Island School of Design’s Henry Anthony Wilcox. In this exhibition, Mr. Wilcox explores the many faces of the Son of the Morning, from Fallen Angel to Dapper Devil to Devourer of Souls. Hecate’s Inheritance was generously lent to Pickman Gallery by the Musée de Cauchemars in Paris, and is sponsored by Die Württembergischen Zentrum für Interdisziplinäre Studien über Hexerei und Zauberei in an effort to further promote coven recruitment and academic research.

Hecate’s Inheritance showcases thirteen exquisite depictions of witches and their craft, including the works of Albert-Joseph Pénot, Henry Fuseli, Jean Veber, Frans Francken II, James Gillray, Jan de Bisschop, Jean van der Velde II, Agostino Veneziano, John Nixon, and John William Waterhouse. Sympathy for the Devil includes a selection of seven visions of He Who Shuns the Light by Jean Miélo, Nikolai Kalmakoff, Louis Boulanger, Michał Elwiro Andriolli, Paul Mathey, Thomas Stothard, and Henry Fuseli.

A private reception will be held at Pickman Gallery during the lunar eclipse on September 27, 2015, from midnight until 3am. RSVP required. Refreshments provided by Sister Shoggoth’s Microbrewery (Home of the original Protoplasmic Bubble Beer), Innsmouth Harbor Fishery, and the Old Arkham Cheese Shoppe.

Sponsorship

Sympathy for the Devil was made possible by the generous support of Elizabeth Barrial, director of the Black Phoenix Foundation for the Arts, and TJ Barrial, Visual Arts Professor and Department Chair at the Dunwich Academy of Arts, and was organized for the Celephaïs Athenæum by Brian Constantine, Curator of Sculpture for the Clark Ashton Smith Memorial Gallery. Hecate’s Inheritance is sponsored by Die Württembergischen Zentrum für Interdisziplinäre Studien über Hexerei und Zauberei, the Wüttemberg
Center for Interdisciplinary Studies on Witchcraft and Sorcery.

About the Pickman Gallery

The Pickman Gallery is the Miskatonic Valley’s premier privately-owned art gallery. Founded in 1923 by interdimensionally renowned portrait artist Richard Upton Pickman, the Gallery offers the Miskatonic Valley community a dynamic roster of stimulating, dread-provoking exhibitions and enriching public programs. Though the Pickman generally focuses on Aestheticism and Decadence, nearly all artistic movements have been represented throughout the years. Exhibitions organized by the Pickman have featured the works of both local and international artists, and have encompassed all of the visual arts, including printmaking, photography, sculpture, video, film, and performance.

General Information

Pickman Gallery, 432 Sentinel Street, Arkham, MA 01914
Tel: 978/271-1300, Fax: 978/271-1313
Web site: http://www.pickman-gallery.com

Hours

Tuesday, Thursday, Friday: Dusk - 1am
Saturday: Dusk - 3am
Sunday, Monday, and major astronomical events: Closed

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++ PICKMAN GALLERY: HECATE’S INHERITENCE

A PHANTASMAGORIA: SCENE – CONJURING UP AN ARMED SKELETON
James Gillray

Wig powder, amber-perfumed leather gloves, and rose petals with a sliver of oak bark and cauldron smoke.

A WITCH RIDING ON A DRAGON
Jan de Bisschop

Blackened tonka, patchouli, dragon’s blood resin, and scorched oak.

DÉPART POUR LE SABBAT (AUFBRUCH ZUM HEXENSABBAT)
Albert-Joseph Pénot

Bourbon vanilla, sweet red patchouli, oudh, goat’s milk accord, and white honey.

LIEBESZAUBER
Artist Unknown

Honey, rose petals, and carnations - a drop of blood - red clover, cubeb berries, and vanilla cream.

THE MAGIC CIRCLE
John William Waterhouse

Vanilla-infused frankincense and clary sage with 7-year aged patchouli, jasmine sambac, honey myrtle,
and oudh.

THE SORCERESS
Jean van der Velde II

An evocation incense of frankincense, styrax, lavender buds, mastic, and white sandalwood mingled with moonflower, violet absolute, tuberose, and dark musk.

WITCHES’ KITCHEN
Frans Francken II

Belladonna accord, sprigs of rue, crushed hyssop, white sage, beeswax, mandrake leaf, bay rum, black honey, hemp, and myrrh.

THE WITCH AND THE MANDRAKE
Henry Fuseli

Mandrake root, apple blossom, dusty brown sandalwood, coconut milk, woodmusk, and soft leather.

WITCHCRAFT SCENE
Attributed to Luis Paret y Alcaza

Black lily and black pepper with narcissus, white musk, and white sandalwood.

THE WITCHES
Jean Veber

Pumpkin cream, honey, vanilla sugar, and smoked vanilla bean.

THE WITCHES’ ROUT (THE CARCASS)
Agostino Veneziano

White sandalwood, opoponax, shriveled black plum, and vetiver.

THE WITCHES’ SABBATH
Frans Francken II

Burgundy and champaca resin with immortelle, leather accord, wine-soaked red fruits, rose geranium petals, red patchouli, guttering candles, and smoke.

A YOUNG WOMAN APPEALING TO A WITCH
John Nixon

Honey, cream and white rose petals buffeted by toadstools, creeping moss, bog cypress, and myrrh.

- - -

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++ PICKMAN GALLERY: SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

A HOLY MAN ADVISES A WOMAN TO INVOKE MARY AGAINST A DEVIL
Jean Miélo

White musk, tobacco flower, white tea, Tunisian neroli, and blonde leather.

LA FEMME de SATAN
Nikolai Kalmakoff

Red musk and cacao with clove, caramelized tobacco, aged patchouli, red currant, black leather, and vanilla-infused amber.

LA RONDE du SABBAT
Louis Boulanger

Oman frankincense, black clove, and tobacco tar.

PAN TWARDOWSKI AND THE DEVIL
Michał Elwiro Andriolli

Brown leather, bay leaf, tobacco leaf, lavender, and oudh.

PORTRAIT OF AN UNIDENTIFIED MAN AS MEPHISTOPHELES
Paul Mathey

A debonair lavender fougere cloaked in smoky red musk, red mandarin, and oakmoss.

SATAN STARTING FROM THE TOUCH OF ITHURIEL’S SPEAR
Henry Fuseli

Golden amber, carnation, blackcurrant, aged black patchouli, red musk, and vetiver.

SATAN SUMMONING HIS LEGIONS
Thomas Stothard

White leather and cypress-tinged white musk with cardamom, smouldering incense, Ceylon cinnamon and white sandalwood.

- - -

Keep your eyes peeled: the Black Phoenix Trading Post Halloween update is imminent and BPAL’s paean to the dead is being called in from the void. Two new Halloween scents will be debuting at Montreal’s
Pretty Indulgent, and our Crimson Peak collection will be unearthed soon.

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