Understandably, given those references, the perfume smells the way a metallic brocade looks: lush, rich, opulent, draped for elegance. But the artistry of perfumer Geza Schoen makes it modern and wearable too. Despite the by now tired trope of "oudh", the note so often smelling more like a pack of Band-Aids than the exotic resin obtained by the pathological secretion of the Aquilaria tree when attacked by a fungus, there is none of that contemporary nonsense in Nawab of Oudh. There is a powdery, soft like cat's paws, ambery trail in the drydown, reminding me of Private Collection Amber Ylang (E.Lauder), which envelops the higher notes of green-citrusy brilliance into a cradle of plush. The distinction between phases (drawing upon the classical pyramid structure of perfumes) is here apparent, at least in a binary pattern: the introduction is distinctly separate from the prolonged (really impressively prolonged) phase of the drydown. In essence we have the interplay of raspiness and velvety softness, aided by the texture of the rose. Oud-laced roses have become a dime a dozen lately in niche perfumery, but I will withhold a place in my heart of Nawab of Oudh because it's so extraordinarily beautiful indeed.
And the name? How did it evolve and how does it unite those two worlds, India and the Middle East? Awadh or Oudh was a prosperous and thickly populated province of northern India (modern Uttar Pradesh), its very name meaning "capital of Lord Rama", the hero of the Ramayana epic. Its turmoiled history began with becoming an important province of the Mughal empire, soon establishing a hereditary polity under Mughal sovereignty; but as the power of the Mughals diminished, the province gained its independence. The opulence in the courts of the Nawabs (ruler kings of the Awadh, originating from a Persian adventurer called Sa'adat Khan) and their prosperity were noticed by the British East India Company, resulting in their direct interference in internal political matters, which reached its zenith in the eventual total loss of power by the Nawabs in 1856.
The official info on the scent by Ormonde Jayne runs thus: "Nawab (Ruler) of Oudh is a province of central India. Our perfume is inspired by the Nawabs who once ruled over it. It is a potent blend of amber and rose with a soft oudh edge. Yet surprisingly not one ingredient stands out from the others. It achieves a perfume synergy that defies traditional analysis, releasing a pulsating pungency, brooding and hauntingly beautiful, a rich tapestry of fascinating depths, a jewelled veil to conceal its emotional complexity and extravagance."
Notes for Nawab of Oudh:
Top: green notes, bergamot, orange absolute, cardamom, aldehyde.
Heart: rose, magnolia, orchid, pimento, bay, cinnamon, hedione.
Base: ambergris, musk, vetiver, labdanum, oudh.
Nawab of Oudh along with the rest of the "Four Corners of the Earth" collection by Ormonde Jayne, inspired by Linda Pilkington's travels, is exclusive to the London Ormonde Jayne boutiques at 12 The Royal Arcade and 192 Pavillion Road and at the Black Hall perfumery at Harrods.
What a beautiful review. I can't wait to try this. This seems to be on another level to so many of the Oud's that are constantly being churned out. Is this your favourite from the Four corner's of the Earth series ?
ReplyDeleteAmazingly beautiful review E. Makes my slender scribblings of a review on POL seem silly. :)
ReplyDeleteAnon,
ReplyDeletethank you for the lovely compliment. It is certainly a very good fragrance and I think not brandishing the oud as a badge of honor so much as a mysterious trail to rough up the rose.
I like it very much, but then I love others in the line very much too (you will see which when I post all the reviews...gotta keep you in anticipation, I guess!)
B,
ReplyDeleteAwww, you're so sweet! Surely the format of a blog post allows for a fuller exposition than a forum post, that's all. Even by POL standards which are better than most and with such discerning and eloquent posters as you.
The perfume sounds intriguing indeed, but that photograph is just magical, totally mesmerised by all those turquoises!
ReplyDeleteThanks E :)
ReplyDeleteDear Shrine
ReplyDeleteWhat a splendidly evocative review,
The analogy with gold brocade is a beautiful one, truly.
And you are quite right that whilst the rose and oud combination is turning into the micro-genre of the teens, when they are done well they are quite something to behold.
I wonder, what role in the composition did you feel that the aldehydes played at the beginning? Their relationship with roses is well charted, but with oud - The Dandy is curious...
Yours ever
The Perfumed Dandy
TPD,
ReplyDeleteaw, very kind of you to say so.
I didn't find it aldehydic in any significant way other than it giving the citrusy, lemony-greenish accent on top. No soap/powder/wax/lift etc people "associate" with aldehydes, if that helps.
Most helpful indeed.
ReplyDeleteThank you Shrine!
Yours ever
The Perfumed Dandy