Men
Au Coeur du Désert
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Descripción
Au Coeur du Désert by Tauer Perfumes is an oriental woody fragrance for men and women. Launched in 2016, this composition was created by perfumer Andy Tauer.
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2,539 votos
- Positivo 89%
- Negativo 6.4%
- Neutral 4.8%
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It’s very similar in aroma to Desert Air, just a bit denser and more compact. I love it, but I prefer Desert Air. I see it as more versatile, with the same presence and originality. And it’s also a beast of performance.
It’s more of an olfactory art piece than conventional perfumery. I consider it very difficult and I don’t know when I’d wear it. For me, it smells like an underground room without ventilation where spices, leather, and old things are stored. Full stop. P.S.: I don’t know why they compare it to Interlude. Interlude is a DELICIOUS treat and leans sweet. Au Coeur du Désert has absolutely no sweetness.
I think it’s a scent for artists, painters, or poets, for someone truly eccentric or unique. I received a hug from a girl I thought was my enemy; I think it projects kindness, something impressive. It projects something ancient but noble, like the smell of something good but mysterious. It sparkles and projects enormously. It’s rich to bathe in and stay home smelling like this.
The experience starts visually: the packaging, the bottle, and the welcome, all the way to the sensory moment of spraying. There’s a balance between the aesthetic bet and the content. Here lies a handmade feeling, something exceptional for current perfumery. Au Coeur du Désert presents itself as the older brother of the mythical Air du Desert, less warm, more resinous, and densely spiced, although Tauer considers it a “metamorphosis,” much more intense and refined. Its signature opening scatters citrus-ambered spices and subtly sweet notes, then upon drying finds a balanced vademecum of resins and balsamic notes. Magnificent, though not for the majority taste. Enjoy it, even if just once, even if in a small sample. You might like it or not, but it would be shortsighted not to recognize its quality and particularity.
If I didn’t like Desert Air, Au Coeur du Desert is even worse. For me, the heart is the air at maximum power with all its negative connotations. Extremely potent aroma, difficult to wear, and generates more gestures of disapproval than praise. It doesn’t transport me to idyllic places as reviewers claim. On the contrary, it smells like a closed underground room for a long time or the spices flooding your nose in a Turkish food establishment. Nevertheless, despite my resounding no, I recommend trying it for its high-quality components. It’s a distinct olfactory experience. Needless to say, I wouldn’t recommend buying it blindly for anything. It’s not for almost anyone.
One of my favorite perfumes. Simply spectacular with that addictive and attractive combo that delights me. It can’t be missing. It reveals itself as mysterious, with lots of natural beauty and refined composition, a spirit markedly inspired by the Middle East. From the start, you get an explosion of the best spices I’ve ever smelled. They’re perceived with power and freshness, with acidic nuances from some hidden citrus. Then the magic happens: the spices seem to condense and join an overwhelming incense for a smoky accord, with a brutal amount of well-crafted resins. Balsamic and woody accords dominate with a soft leather layer. To finish, the wet and earthy accords of patchouli and cedar are felt, wrapped in a warm ambroxan finish that delicately softens. Extremely long-lasting: at first it’s projection, then you enjoy it in a personal bubble, not avoiding but noticeable all the time. You can’t lose its trail from the skin for almost a day, and I swear I’m not exaggerating.
After emptying almost two-thirds of the bottle over nearly four years, I say it’s one of my favorites, if not the best in my collection, and I just ordered another to store in my cabinet. Au Coeur du Désert is the pinnacle of bohemian perfumery: full of spices, ambered, projecting, enveloping, evoking, and making you imagine. When I wear it, I can’t stop smelling and enjoying it. It’s warm, cozy, and be careful not to overapply. I won’t say what it smells like because it’s hard; the best way is to try it on skin and wear it for hours to appreciate this liquid gold. They say it smells like a Marrakech bazaar, and I’ve been there—it’s not exactly that, just like L’Air des Alpes Suisses doesn’t smell like the Swiss Alps, but maybe it evokes what you’d like. It has spices, amber, leathers, incense, and notes only Tauer knows, like imagining magical Eastern cities in stories, style Agrabah or the Cave of Wonders. It’s how I’d like Morocco to smell, with some nuances of its bazaars, but it’s quite different from the whole. I mainly wear it in winter, day and night; I enjoy it more in the Pyrenees for its warmth, on walks through cold villages and stone houses after skiing, for dinners with friends and family, or in restaurants with stoves. It depends on your personality: super elegant with a suit or casual and bohemian with a good wool sweater. Since I also have its younger brother, L’Air du Desert Marocain, if I had to choose just one, I’d stick with Au Coeur du Désert, though I enjoy the other on more occasions and seasons, but the performance on my skin is much more fair and stays closer to the skin.
“God give you fame.” I read as many positive reviews for Desert Air as I did for Desert Air du Désert, so I decided on a decant of each. Oh, disappointment. As an olfactory experience, it’s worth it, but wearing it as a perfume seems unacceptable. It smells like Oriental spices and a tarot parlor. I feel like I’m going to read cards and predict the future for whoever stands in front of me. I just need the turban and crystal ball to complete the look. It’s the ideal perfume for the most high-profile necromancer. Good thing I only bought the decant.
Smells like a tarot parlor mixed with old woodworking and spices. It’s for someone eccentric, over 30 or 40, with a cultured and exotic mind. Reminds me of Arab bazaars. Only an artist or poet would understand it; for many, it’s a resounding NO because maybe we’re not on their evolutionary level. Its mystique is incomprehensible to the average man, and I’m a case in point. I’ve tried it in samples and can’t quite decipher its charm. It has “niche” written all over it… Don’t buy blindly.
An absolute gem. From day one, it’s a beast: incense, wood, and lavender at full blast. Lasts on skin for over 10 hours. It’s not for everyone—if you don’t like this type of scent, don’t risk it with the 50ml price tag. Best for men 30+ in temperate or cold climates.
A delicious perfume in many ways: incense, amber, leather, wood, spices… all in a quality and balanced ensemble that you enjoy yourself. It’s one of those perfumes you decide to keep with you all the time, and yes, it’s capable of it. I’ve used it both in heat and cold for pleasure; in cold it stands out more, though heat intensifies it (be careful!). Certainly, you learn to enjoy it more; it matures with you. To my good fortune, my wife loves how it sits on me, so much so that it became my wedding fragrance. I don’t know if it’s due to prior preparation or learned taste; it’s one of my first perfumes; I just know it’s worth living the experience. Another one from Andy Tauer? Probably yes.
A masterpiece. I find it difficult to write a review. An uncompromising niche. An aroma that conveys indescribable magic. It’s amber, smoky, with incense and spice accords… woods. It’s luxurious within an aromatic conception, exotic, and above all, magical. It opens with a more present resin, then gradually moves into a deeper, more incense-heavy part. It transports me to a cool night in the desert, open and illuminated by the stars. I’m going off on a tangent, but it’s genius. It also evokes a touch of happy solitude. What things. Almost a mystical personal enjoyment. Plus, it performs, projects what it should, and I’m sure whoever perceives it enjoys it. It’s rounded. For cold weather, and as a downside, perhaps its lack of versatility. But these geniuses are only for certain moments… An 11. Perfect.
Tested only 3 times with a spray on the wrist, and honestly, that’s more than enough. Lasting power is excessive, and the trail goes from strong to moderate, though the ‘moderate’ part is still over a meter away. Freshly applied (with 3 or 4 sprays, no more), I’m sure it would fill a room; I wouldn’t dare. Even though I don’t like wearing it, I applaud the composition and the sillage. There’s no pyramid or notes, but some are very clear to me. I smell ambergris very clearly (besides, it’s definitely grey), a very masculine patchouli that smells more like leaf than woody, cedar for sure, and in low doses, vanilla and a nearly imperceptible mature flower due to the potency, but it’s there; I’d say it’s rose. In the dry-down, there’s something I identify as ginger or hyssop, or a citrusy herb with pepper. Plus, there are more aromatic woods like juniper, birch, laurel… it’s all well blended. I don’t think it’s as spicy as I’ve read, and I don’t smell leather. It might be my nose or my skin. It feels opulent but not too formal, and at the same time, it could be the opposite. It’s hard to describe because it encloses a polarized duality. It can be tremendously masculine, but I also see it on a femme fatale, making it super-feminine and seductive; I wouldn’t say it’s unisex. It’s normal that no one understands it, because I don’t understand it either, but this perfume is like that. It’s the perfume of an older lady with impeccable manicure and noble manners, wearing pearls and furs, smoking sporadically in rigorous solitude. But it’s also the perfume of a thirty-something with a rolled-up white shirt, four-day beard, bohemian air, and innocence. I agree it’s a work of art. What I like most is that it tells many stories. I disagree with those who say it’s not versatile because it’s formal. To me, it’s the opposite; the important thing is having the attitude to wear it. It’s not for me, but it’s fabulous.
This is a beast of a perfume. An explosion that, as hours pass, softens that voluptuous opening and leaves—a complex group of notes and sensations lasting days on clothes and hours on skin. It’s a perfume that literally envelops you. This never happened to me with another (maybe something similar with Nasomatto’s Pardon). It’s a different experience, immersing yourself in woods, incense, citrus, and flowers, all at once and separately. It’s not for everyone, but at least once in a lifetime you should try it. I love it, but only for very special occasions.
A niche perfume, spicy and very amber-forward. Dense, with a sweetness spiced up. It’s not easy, but it has an addictive quality. A prestigious critic putting it in the spotlight helped, but for me, it’s overrated. It’s a good perfume, don’t misunderstand, but every nose is a different world. I like it for that spiced balsamic sweetness, but two flaws prevent me from placing it on the podium: it’s absolutely linear, with no development, so the initial surprise turns into boredom; and second, it’s not new. Five years before Tauer, Daniela Andrier Roche created something magnificent: Prada Amber Intense. Myrrh and amber were already there, accompanied by a more wearable, soapy musk. But that was the DNA of Coeur du Desert. This similarity becomes more pronounced as it dries. This doesn’t speak ill of Tauer; rather, it praises Prada. It’s a pity the critic didn’t try the Prada one; surely that’s what they would have worn to their wedding. I consider Desert Heart a great perfume… inspired by an even better one. Tauer’s is magnificent as an olfactory experience but not so much in usability.
Exquisite. For me, it’s better than desert air. It removes that dirty, smoky edge and replaces it with a rich, sweet amber resin that, in the right weather, is a 10/10. Highly recommended.
This is a cloying syrup of concentrated meat with menthol. It’s the base notes at maximum intensity. Dominating: amber, patchouli, vetiver, sandalwood, leather, woods, oud, ambergris, civet, frankincense, myrrh, musks, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and assorted balsams. Let everyone find their own fragrance well; it’s guaranteed because here is EVERYTHING at maximum concentration and re-macerated. This is what comes after perfumes… a balm preserved in alcohol just to be called ‘perfume’. The first time I tried it, I thought, ‘Where am I going with so much?’ You have to have it; it’s liquid gold. It’s the foundation of perfume that, when diluted, creates its magic. It has presence and you can tell. A little gem that turns into unusual art.
Smells like leg wax and the musk my mom and aunts used 25 years ago. Horrendous. It’s curious; the first time I smelled it, I didn’t like it at all, the second time I did, but this third time was awful.
Haha, I finally got my hands on the bottle. Delicious. I found an old batch, it’s an absolute bomb—much stronger and more concentrated than what Andy releases now, probably due to the bottle’s aging. I insist, the ‘dirty’ aspect mentioned elsewhere isn’t there. It’s a very spicy, true amber resin. The real Tier 1 from Tauer.
It’s a true perfume. Smells of woods and resins just as the description says. Very natural. Even though people might think it’s more for men, a woman with character wears it perfectly🌑
For those who love dense perfumes and dark woods, a true niche perfume.
One of my favorites, definitely in the top 3. Dense, elegant, and long-lasting. I haven’t found anything like it (except Desert Air), very sophisticated, spicy, and resinous. Great projection and sillage, and if you look hard, you can get it at a good price. Not very versatile; better in cool climates or at night. Can’t be missing from my collection.
From the start, you get those amber resins with a heavy but controlled projection. Woody notes throughout its entire duration, which is huge (previous batches lasted even longer). It has soft incense tones and a touch of sweetness. It’s a unique aromatic combination. In the end, the wood and cedar come through clearly. Honestly, I won’t wear it in winter or fall, but for those days, it’s perfect all day and night. Goes with anything moderately put-together. In short: another one for the collection. Sophisticated, spicy, and ambered, ideal for special events.
Ambered and resinous from the get-go. Very good quality. Seems a bit flat, but in a good way. Reminds me of something from the past, a home with wood; I can’t quite pin down the exact scent. Seems like a mix of memories, a strange and subtle intersection that drags you toward the distant past. Light hazelnut and incense aroma, softly sweet and nothing strident. Not a must-have, but it’s pretty and dresses well.
Super spicy, smells like cardamom—not like La Nuit de l’Homme, but more like African Leather by Memo Paris. At first, it’s spicy and aggressive, even making me want to cough, but once it dries down, mamma mia! It smells like amber and spices, like woods with exotic fruits and citrus. It evokes dried pumpkin seeds sun-drying on a nearly smoking trunk in the desert. It’s sui generis; you won’t find anything like it.
Try before you buy! Don’t buy blind. Forget it being the best in history. It can be elegant, but it’s challenging; my girlfriend was terrified of it, and at first, it smelled like an old church to me. With context, imagine a spice market in Morocco or Asia, and yes, it makes sense. If you want to project the image of Indiana Jones just walked out of a market, this is your fragrance. Also great for formal occasions. I haven’t used it much, so I’m giving it a 6/10.
Wood? No, old wood. That grandma’s furniture that smells aged and nostalgic. Nothing like other perfumes. I’m a huge wood lover, and this stole my heart at first sniff. I’m already a Tauer fan; he’s raised the bar high, and I want to try more of his stuff.
Wonderful. Definitely one of my favorite fragrances. The price is high, but if you have the budget, it’s worth it. Its reputation is well-earned.
The hype doesn’t fool me. To me, this isn’t a perfume; it’s the smell of things: a closed closet with a rough leather vest from a flea market, nothing as elegant as Tuscan Leather. Cardamom and little else. Anyone trying to wear this for elegance is inconceivable. Some people value the strange, but I value smelling good. Elegance, subtlety, and zero class. Plus, it’s been reformulated. Don’t buy blind.
Starts off weird, like ‘WTF’, but once it dries down, it’s a beast: spices yielding to a rich amber. Someone said it smells like a ‘tarot parlor’ and they’re right; it’s esoteric, like a hippie fair with crafts and incense. I liked it, though I wouldn’t buy it for the price or because it’s too experimental for daily wear. Maybe I’ll never use it. 7/10
Tragically another victim of the perfume industry, it has been reformulated and it’s noticeable. An amber-resinous scent from start to finish, with sharp spice and resin notes at the beginning that settle after 15 minutes into a non-sweet amber and a resinous woody base. Here, the patchouli isn’t chocolatey and the cumin isn’t unpleasant like in other perfumes that can smell like sweat; here, it doesn’t happen. Exquisite aroma, and when it first launched, it was very different from everything else on the market. Currently, the scent is still high quality, but its performance has plummeted. Yani doesn’t last or project like previous batches. I should mention I found a Spanish brand equivalent (Di…..) and I hate to say it, but it’s 90% similar, and what really bugs me is that its longevity and projection are superior to current Tauer batches… very sad. Personally, I think El Aire del Desierto is currently the better option for quality/price: ~6h longevity (stretching it), projection is decent for the first hour then fades to skin-level; ~sillage is noticeable for the first 3 hours; ~quality/price… for me, it’s a no (current batches).
Au Coeur du Désert is not just a perfume… it’s a meditation in the air. It smells of silence, majestic solitude, that moment when the sun no longer burns but the heat remains trapped in the rocks. It’s the heart of the desert at dusk: dry incense, noble woods, resinous amber, and an enveloping warmth that doesn’t overwhelm… it caresses. Compared to L’Air du Désert Marocain, this goes deeper. Less dust in the air, more depth in the soul. It’s more mature, more spiritual, as if you stop observing the landscape and start becoming part of it. It has an elegant, calm, confident presence. It doesn’t seek attention, but it gets it. It lasts forever on skin and projects with nobility. Ideal for quiet moments, for nights where you want to feel peaceful yet powerful. Not everyone can wear this, nor at any time. You wear it when you’re ready to listen… and let the perfume speak for you.
Too resinous. I don’t like how it blends with cumin, turning dark, heavy, and unpleasant to my nose. I think it has undeserved hype. It’s a perfume that radiates sadness.
Maybe I’m using it wrong, in a literary sense. I accept its poetry, and everyone is right: it smells of leather and spices, the lingering heat in the rocks, and perhaps even depilatory wax. Who knows if this late batch has been reformulated (I wish I could smell the original batch first). Either way, the dry down is excellent—a delightful amber note, like a sunset on the dunes.
This perfume is simply enchanting. Its delicate yet persistent scent makes me feel elegant and confident all day long. It has definitely become my go-to for special occasions.
Nice resins, with a good balance between an extremely subtle sweetness and the freshness of coriander seeds. A little dirty, a little rough, with a very natural creamy-vanilla base. In the end, it’s a confluence of shy notes that creates a painter’s palette brown. That said, you can tell everything is high quality, but that doesn’t redeem the fragrance. If it were louder, it would be more fun; if it had a more obvious protagonist, it would be more fun. However, it blends in so much with a ‘sweater armbar’ after a week of wearing something different every day.
I picked it up recently on an eBay deal, it was open box. I had a 2ml decant and they smell identical. This perfume isn’t for the masses; it’s for those who love olfactory experiences. It’s not easy to like, it requires good taste and a good nose. It couldn’t be missing from my collection. The hype is real, but not everyone will like it; I understand why some people don’t appreciate this scent. What surprised me most is that the notes and fragrance vary over time on the skin, evolving in a very peculiar way. Conclusion: Don’t buy blind. It’s a gem, but not everyone has the level to appreciate this gem.
I tried a decant of this gem. Right after spraying, I noticed something vaguely ‘chocolatey’ not listed on the card, but within minutes it dried down and the spices came alive quickly, I think it’s the cumin with a sweet touch. It reminds me of bazaars in Morocco or Turkey, a truly brutal olfactory experience. I’ll definitely try it again in winter for its fullness. Andy Tauer’s quality is top-notch. Longevity: 8.5/10.
I tried it in a decant and, while I acknowledge its quality and personality, it just didn’t click with me. It’s a dry, woody, resinous amber with an intense, serious character. It has a spicy edge that adds depth but makes it rough and earthy, rendering it challenging and inaccessible. It’s not an easy or accommodating scent; I had to figure out where it fits. It demands context and attitude, perhaps a taste more oriented toward dense compositions. I don’t enjoy it, even though it’s well-constructed and carries a strong niche identity. It’s not comfortable or versatile, but it shows careful execution. My rating is based on quality, not enjoyment. Not every perfume is for everyone. Rating: 6
Totally overrated