LAVS: The Altar of the Skin
The first offering, LAVS, pulses like the heart of a Gothic church. It’s built around incense, of course — not just a whiff of it, but its full-bodied soul. Burnt resins, black woods, ash and light. This fragrance isn’t trying to be polite. It asks for your devotion. It speaks of ritual, of solemn processions, of candles dripping wax on stone. When you wear LAVS, you don’t just smell good — you become part of a sacred ceremony.
There’s something almost cinematic in how it clings to fabric, lingering like a whispered prayer. One spray and you’re somewhere else entirely: inside a cavernous basilica, where time slows and the world hushes.
SANTALUM: A Tender Requiem
If LAVS is thunderous reverence, SANTALUM is the aftermath — quiet, sacred, enveloping. This is sandalwood stripped of its spa-day clichés. It's warm, yes, but here it’s wrapped in leather, incense, and something nostalgic, almost like an old photograph fading at the edges.
There’s melancholy here. Not sadness, but the sweet ache of remembering something you loved too much. It smells like old pages, like hands held too briefly. Wearing SANTALUM is like being held in a memory.
NERO BAROCCO: Velvet Darkness
This one is pure drama — a theatrical plunge into shadows and excess. NERO BAROCCO smells like an opera in the middle of a thunderstorm, or velvet curtains swinging shut after the final aria. It’s floral, yes, but the kind of florals painted by Caravaggio — bruised, dark, sensuous.
There’s amber and musk, opulent and brooding, and a thread of spice that dances like flickering light on stained glass. It doesn’t flirt — it seduces. You don’t wear NERO BAROCCO for compliments. You wear it to command silence.
UNUM: The Fragrance of Being
UNUM is perhaps the truest distillation of Filippo’s philosophy. It doesn’t have one message — it’s a shifting reflection of whoever wears it. Complex and impossible to pin down, it moves between woods, smoke, balsams, and strange floral pulses. It’s both introverted and bold, spiritual and grounded.
This fragrance has no room for pretenses. It’s the scent of raw truth, of being seen. If you’ve ever stood in front of a painting that made your chest ache or heard a note of music that made you cry without knowing why — this is that, in a bottle.
OPUS 1144: Sacred Fire
OPUS 1144 is a reverent tribute to French Gothic cathedrals, with notes that evoke stone, incense, and light streaming through stained glass. You feel the weight of centuries when you smell it — the echo of footsteps in cold marble halls, the sharp sweetness of myrrh and smoke rising through beams of sun.
It’s architectural and emotional all at once. A towering structure built on scent, yes, but also a fragile testament to light, faith, and humanity.
Why This Collection Matters
Filippo Sorcinelli doesn’t chase trends. He digs deeper — into silence, into faith, into the parts of the soul we don’t always have words for. Each perfume is autobiographical. He’s lived these scents. They come from his background in liturgical design, sacred art, organ music, and fashion, where every gesture is loaded with emotion and symbolism.
These are not safe perfumes. They challenge. They provoke. They demand reflection. They cling to skin like echoes, like secrets, like promises made in the dark. And in doing so, they elevate perfume from luxury to something closer to spiritual armor.
Wearing Filippo’s work is like draping yourself in a forgotten hymn. It’s about rediscovering the sacred in the everyday — smoke on your clothes after a vigil, the feeling of stepping out of the confessional lighter than air, or the comfort of a church pew when the world is too loud.
This is fragrance for people who feel deeply. For those who see beauty in the imperfect, who find power in quiet moments. For those who believe that scent isn’t just how you smell — it’s how you feel, how you remember, how you exist.
In Closing
Filippo Sorcinelli’s perfumes are not about escape. They’re about return — to yourself, to your memories, to something deeper. They don’t try to please everyone. But for those who are moved by sacred beauty, who find solace in darkness and light alike, these scents will feel like home.
So light a candle. Spray the perfume. Close your eyes. And listen — not with your ears, but with your soul. What you hear might just be your own voice, clearer than ever before.
