Monday, January 21, 2013

Tuberose: Carnal Floralcy & Drama Note

No note in perfumery is more surprisingly carnal, creamier or contradicting than that of tuberose. The multi-petalled flower is a mix of flower shop freshness and velvety opulence. Which is why it is the perennial polarizing flower note having as many ardent fans as passionate detractors. The Victorians must have been among the latter: they forbade young girls of inhaling the scent of tuberose in the fear they might have a spontaneous orgasm! Roja Dove is right when he says that tuberose is really loose, the "harlot of perfumery".

Polianthes tuberosa doesn't have any botanical or olfactory relation to roses, despite the name. This small white blossom flowering plant is its own thing, a "white floral" (in the same class as jasmine and orange blossom) with an intensity and creaminess beyond any other: Though the scent can be likened to that of orange blossom and gardenia, tuberose has interesting facets of camphor in the opening (comparable to - but not quite that green - as budding gardenias), of dewy mushroom and earth when in bloom and then of rot and bloody meat when browning. Buttery, rubbery and even metallic facets also emerge if one searches for them.

The natural blossoms are so powerful they can fill a room and continue to exude their scent for days after picking. In fact this is why tuberose had been a prime candidate for the enfleurage technique ever since its introduction in Grasse, in the south of France in the 17th century ("Enfleurage" is the traditional and now almost defunct technique of enrobing flowers in fat, letting them wilt in it for days, releasing their scent, and then treating the resulting pomade with solvents to render a very precious absolute). The tuberose blossoms are actually still in bud when picked, so that they can give off their full spectrum of scent as they wilt. It takes over 1200 kilos of buds to render 200gr. of tuberose absolute, which makes tuberose one of the most costly natural raw materials to use.

 It therefore comes as no surprise that most tuberose in commercial perfumery is synthesized in the lab rather than natural. Though this cuts down on the cost factor and facilitates picking up one facet over another in the context of a given concept (say, emphasizing the creaminess over the camphorous, or the sweet floral over the indolic rot), the synthesized aroma is removed from the complex and at once fresh and carnal natural.

Thus a tuberose note in perfume can appear sickly and almost sticky, cloying, sledgehammering you over the head with its intense message. We can trace this as far back as 1980s if not before, as Giorgio, one of the defining perfumes of the decade, was using tuberose with all the subtlety of nails on a chalkboard. The effect was bombastic, powerfully floral, appearing as showing off one's affluence, just held in check by a base of vetiver that muted all the neon brightness. In contrast the natural oil rendered from good Indian tuberose varieties (or from the now very small fields left in Grasse) brings out all the base notes: ranging from buttery to leathery, from menthol to rubber and earth, all the way to woman's skin and even Chamonix orange cake! A good example of tuberose oil being used with naturalistic effect is Carnal Flower in the Frederic Malle niche line Editions des Parfums. This is the fragrance with the highest percentage of tuberose in the formula currently in the market.

If you want to get a good sniff of tuberose in isolation at a more affordable price to see if the scent agrees with your, you can resort to the Tubereuse candle/room spray in the Diptyque line. It should give you an idea.


The uber-classic reference for tuberose fragrances has always been (and will always be, it seems...) Fracas by Robert Piguet: the tuberose against which all other tuberoses measure up, influencing as diverse things as Chloe by Karl Lagerfeld, Jardins de Bagatelle by Guerlain and Amarige by Givenchy. Fracas, a transliteration of effect in name if there ever was one, judging by the derisive reception it has on people smelling it, came out in 1948, composed by Germaine Cellier; this maverick and iconoclast of a perfumer considered carefully conceived disruptive effects more important than over-ornamentalisation in her craft. The mastery of Fracas is that it achieves the creamiest, most calorific and lush floral effect (combining jonquil and orange blossom to tuberose to give a green and cleaner edge) while at the same time retaining a modicum of balance through a herbal top note and an abstract drydown of powder and woods. It's striking, dramatic, overpowering even sometimes, like a Callas aria, but it is full of beauty and emotion all the same. It takes a diva to carry it off successfully, which is why lesser mortals fail and attach a stigma to the fragrance; it's not the fragrance's fault!

It's fun to consider Amarige by Givenchy (1991) the other face of Janus: the two fragrances form two neat bookends; one loud but beautiful, the other loud and over the top. Givenchy enrolled Dominique Ropion to the task and he seems to have been so intent on at least matching the drama of Fracas (and his own godmother, Germaine Cellier) that he produced the highest-pitched tuberose in existence.
 The radiance of Amarige is felt for miles, a fact that is not always appreciated and the creaminess and greenery of tuberose is substituted by the popular for the time frame synthetic base of cassis (a big element in 1980s perfumery) and a cluster of -right about that time emerging as soon to be popular- fruity notes. If tuberose is a diva overshadowing a full symphonic orchestra, Amarige put her on speakers too. But Ropion didn't match Fracas with Amarige, nor did he surpass it artistically. He fared much better when he was free of commercial restraints for his stint for F.Malle and Carnal Flower; this solar floral is choke-full of all the natural elements inherent in the living flower itself. The camphor qualities are exploited to the max via a eucalyptus note to render a life-like hologram, while the coconut tinge and the salicylates (ingredients that appear in some tropical flowers and also in suntan lotions) remind us that tuberose is really a tropical flower coming from warm climates and pelvis-tilting-friendly cultures.

But there's something for everybody and where there's noise and animated conversation there can also be some quiet and silken promises whispered in the dark. Serge Lutens, aided by his perfumer ally Christopher Sheldrake, composed the most gothic tuberose in existence and a historical landmark in the treatment of this capricious note: Tubereuse Criminelle is an etude in the polished facets of the flower with a most disconcerting top note of Vicks vapo-rub, an aberrant chill which takes you by surprise but subsides in the first 10 minutes. The contrast between the camphor and the flower are echoed in Carnal Flower (F.Malle), its successor, but the shadowy, menacing character of the Lutens perfume is not poised as natural as in the Malle, but as a solidly, cleverly manufactured effect that you perceive as a vignette of Expressionism or the fangs of a vampire slicing through vibrant flesh. This fire & ice game is as good as a thinking woman's (or man's) kinky romp in the bedroom. Rounding the attempts at competition, attrition and infatuation with Fracas, there's nothing left but a sincere homage and the one who paid her respects more convincingly was none other than perfumer Calice Becker for the niche brand By Kilian in her Beyond Love. It admittedly smells close to Fracas, but on the other hand its more refined trail of the best Indian tuberose and Egyptian jasmine absolutes presents something new. The perfumer's reference was not only the aromatic oil but also the living flower and in her perfume composition she tried to bridge the two into an harmonious melody. The womanly skin like note marries to the gourmand note of Chamonix orange cake and the effect is nothing short of truly beautiful and, curiously enough, more natural smelling than Fracas. Perhaps a pixelized installation of the Mona Lisa at the MoMa and not the prototype, but still a work of art on its very own.

Estee Lauder Private Collection Tuberose Gardenia (more of the gardenia part, for those reluctant for the full dosage of tuberose)
Annick Goutal Gardenia Passion (traitorously to the name, this is actually a tuberose)
Annick Goutal Tubereuse (a very high percentage of natural tuberose in this one)
Caron Tubereuse (an extrait of tuberose, with the glorious richness of Caron parfums)
Diptyque Do Son (a diluted but fresh and naturalistic tuberose for the shy, more concentrated and satisfying in the new eau de parfum)
Dior Poison 1980s vintage (a potently musky tuberose with grape notes on top)
Madonna Truth or Dare (another homage to Fracas, surprisingly pleasant and grown up for a celebrity scent)
L'Artisan Parfumeur Nuit de Tubereuse (a romantic and nuanced take, deeper in scent than usual for the brand)
Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle (a fantasy of a garden with prominent tuberoses and other white florals) Honore des Pres Vamp a New York (the most playful tuberose on the market, fun and candied like bubble-gum and a great one to wear even casually)
Calvin Klein Beauty (a delicate and restrained, yet non timid tuberose with a polished sheen)
La Prairie Life Threads Silver (razor sharp pitch over buttery base notes)
Guerlain very rare Marie-Claire (a beautiful tuberose fragrance with lots of ylang ylang)
Balenciaga vintage Michelle (a very elegant and complex tuberose blend)
Dior Passage No.9 (a creamy tuberose with sparkly qualities)
La Via del Profumo Mona Lisa (an animalic and sexy tuberose with skin-like properties)


  1. Peggy15:12

    Fracas and Poison are the two perfumes I wear and I love them. Both have tuberose.Not for everyone, not for the lovers of "quiet" smells but for those who can accept the feminity on all it's grace.
    Very nice article I just remembered to go and put some Fracas on. It´s the queen of Tuberose for me!

  2. Tuberose, like gardenia, is one of the few flowers that can stand on its own as a full perfume. I also like the superexpensive JAR Eclair (or Bolt of lightning), which stresses the most disturbing aspect of tuberose, the porcini mushroom and the sickly rotten sweetness.

  3. I adore tuberose... I love and wear Fracas and Do Son, and recently gifted ELPC Tuberose Gardenia to my Mom.

    That Dyptique candle is heavenly; I have one of the big ones myself, and it was so very worth every penny!

  4. Peggy,

    ha, yes, not for everyone. But they can be great if they suit (and one knows how to apply them so as not to invade personal space).
    Thanks for the kind compliment! And for stopping by :-)

    (Will suggest things for you as requested on T soon!)

  5. M,

    it is as you say! I find gardenia one of the most exquisite scents in the whole world. It's the usual thing to offer on warm summer nights in clubs and soirees to the ladies and it blooms ever so lushly then.
    I have had limited exposure to the JARs because of availability and price issues (who has a full bottle of them, I wonder), so will take your word for it. I recall their carnation was good too.

  6. Patuxxa,

    ah, great choices! :-)
    The Lauder is more gardenia than tuberose despite the name, but it's a glorious, very realistic, at once fresh and lush blossom, I find, very well done!

    Most of the Diptyque candles have something to recommend them, but I find that Tubereuse in particular is really superior alongside a few others (JG, Bois Cire, Opoponax etc).

  7. I'm never smelled actual tuberose before, but I have smelled Madonna's Truth or Dare. I have to say it does smell pretty nice.

  8. Dk,

    tuberose absolute is a fascinating thing and much denser than the actual blossom (which is fresher when in bloom). If you ever have a chance to try it, grab it.

    I too found Madonna's scent better than most. Certainly it takes a page off Fracas, but it's not a copy, it has its own virtues.

    1. The more tuberose I smell , the more I'm falling in love with this magnificent and intoxicating scent! First it was orange blossom and now tuberose. Theres something about the sweetness and then the indolic rot I find very fascinating and keeps me coming back for more.

  9. Would anyone know what kind of compound makes up the heady, captivating part of the tuberose?

  10. Anonymous12:27

    You omitt one the most great tuberosa perfume: MPG's Tuberose...Its fantastic.

  11. Dr.D,

    there are several components that might refer to what you're after, it all depends on what you find heady & captivating (the rubber facet? the candy-ness? the fresh floral greenness?)

    Let me just state that the main (fragrant) constituents are methyl benzoate, methyl anthranilate, butyric acid, farnesol and geraniol. And of course indole and camphorous facets (going hand in hand)

    Does that help?

  12. Anon,

    mea culpa. *hangs head in shame*
    And to think that I consider MPG among the classiest lines.

  13. Sebastian17:46

    I wonder what you think of Carnal Flower more recently? It's quite different to the fragrance from even two years ago. It has lost the super-creamy carnal headiness. It now smells much lighter, more green, it's not the perfume it once was. I'm not sure it even deserves the name Carnal any more!

  14. Sebastian,

    that would be awful, if it means a reformulation (though it's not unthinkable, it's routine business).
    Perhaps however there are slight batch differences?

    I admit having stocked up myself years ago I haven't needed a new bottle for some time now. I dread to think that when I do need one I might not find that familiar mien I know and love :-/

  15. Klio09:49

    Hello Elena,

    congratulations on your oh so wonderfully enlightening blog.

    I would like to ask you what the greek name for tuberose is. I have found some suggestions on the net but none satisfies me. Διατσέντο, τουμπερόζα, είδος κρίνου amongst others.

    Thank you very much


Type your comment in the box, choose the Profile option you prefer from the drop down menu below the text box (Anonymous is fine if you don't want the other options) and hit Publish! And you're set!

Blog Widget by LinkWithin