Annick Goutal Les Absolus 1001 Ouds: fragrance review

Not unfittingly I had waited till I had written my articles on myrrh resin before writing my full perfume review of the latest Annick Goutal 1001 Ouds fragrance in the Les Absolus range. That's because rather than being a fully fledged oud/aoudh fragrance this oriental elixir features myrrh in a key player position.

photo Vitor Schietti

The trend for oudh has been going strong and every brand has embraced the innovations of the fragrance industry. Some say this particular trend is an unpardonable sin (and indeed only Chanel seems impervious to the flummox as of this moment) so an oud-centric perfume from Annick Goutal did not spell optimism in my heart of hearts. Especially as the combination of oudh with rose has been the hallmark of tried and tested combinations surgically transplanted from Middle Eastern perfumery -where they thrive in local blends- and then watered down for western usage.
Nevertheless 1001 Ouds in Les Absolus d'Annick Goutal managed to not fulfill the desire for apostasy that ran in the back of my mind. Two key ingredients which are featured in a clever way by perfumer composer Isabel Doyen are responsible for the rekindled interest.

Myrrh resin, bittersweet and poignant, is restraining the stomping boots of the oudh note. Thankfully as most contemporary oudh compositions, lacking the complexity of a traditional oudh perfume essence, run the risk of coming across as rather aggressive (the dreaded Band Aid note) and a little too invasive, like a stranger in leather gear on public transport making intense eye contact out of the blue. The woody effect given by papyrus wood is slightly smoky, the feel of a distant campfire rather than having the barbecue right on the lawn.

Rose phobics or those who do like rose but dread the engulfing tentacles of it when combined with usual suspects sandalwood or oudh in an Arabian setting need not be scared. The rose in 1001 Ouds by Annick Goutal is providing a softened, mellowed bridge between the more challenging ingredients, polishing the corners and smoothening the edges. This well known perfumers' trick works especially well here; one doesn't really discern the rose, only the humming warmth and glow that resembles a copper-toned lipstick on an olive skinned lady.

As might be suspected by the notes 1001 Ouds leans to the shared fragrances side of the spectrum and men and women alike would enjoy it without problems. In fact the creative team at Annick Goutal present the Les Absolus trio as a lovers' shared sensuous experience and they couldn't be closer to the truth. These are warm, soft, enveloping fragrances to share with those you cherish the most.

As with the rest of Les Absolus, beautiful presentation, demanding prices.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:
Annick Goutal fragrance reviews and news
Oud/Aoudh/Agarwood: perfume raw material
Les Absolus d'Annick Goutal: perfume reviews 

Perfumery material: Oud/Aloeswood/Agarwood & Synthetic Substitutes

Oudh seems to be THE major trend in perfumery and as recently as this season we have two launches featuring it, the excellent Epic by Amouage and the shortly launching Al Oudh by L'Artisan Parfumeur. However, the market is becoming so increasingly busted by oud-this and oud-that that a closer examination of truths, rather than claims, is needed. Only if you have been living under a rock, have you not read a hundred times already that oud/aoudh/aloeswood is the aroma-rich prized resin produced by the pathological secretion of Aquillaria trees when attacked by a fungus.
Nevertheless, much as the ad copy circulating and the articles in glossies insist, there is a mythology built about oudh in western fragrances which doesn't exactly justify the tsunami of oud-based fragrances launched in the past few years. Several fragrances which feature notes of oud in fact use a synthetic substitute in lieu of the extra-expensive, ultra-rare ingredient: It was a mere consequence of the eternal law of offer and demand. That's how a designer scent with oud "notes" (YSL M7) even became possible. So many fragrances on all price levels as we will see below simply cannot be based on real oud.

Synthetic Oud in the Majority of Perfumes you say?
Even if the whole Southeastern jungle is eradicated in its pursuit, as apart from endagered, the mere process is so time consuming (often necessitating HUNDREDS of years for the noble rot to manifest itself sufficiently in the wood that produces the essence) that it's a logical impossibility. By Kilian freely admits using the synthetic, to their credit.
Firmenich, the aromachemicals giant, has a nicely rounded synthetic base, the Oud Synthetic 10760 E. Seriously hip niche brand Le Labo uses it in their Oud27. Interestingly the material bears some sentising dangers which might bring it into axing under a future IFRA Amendement perfumery restrictions policy.
Givaudan also have Agarwood Orpur/"Black Agarwood base" which is another product used to substitute the golden nectar in fragrance releases, reflecting the particular scent of burning Agarwood chips and amalgamating ambery, olibanum and balsamic nuances.

Somehow the above facts makes the price asked seen under a completely different light!Le Labo are not the only ones to employ these synthetics: Several fragrances have the discernible fingerprint of those aromachemicals all over them (Tom Ford Oud Wood uses Agarwood Orpur by Givaudan for instance, same goes for Bond No.9's offerings)

If the pace of using oud synths escalates everyone will be wearing "ouds", the way at some point they wore acquatics or gourmands a total defeat of the purpose of "coinnoisseurship" which is so brandished in the oud-selling game. Not to mention that by that time, with the help of Bath & Body Works, there will be an oudh for every budget (Ironically enough yes, there is one by B&BW as we speak!), which proves the statement above. But let's explore this fascinating material and the synthetics that often imitates it in this guide on building blocks of perfumery.

The cmplex natural material
Agarwood or Oud or Oudh or Aoud (the name taken from the province of Oudh) is the resinous heartwood from Aquilaria trees (predominantly from Aquilaria malaccensis), evergreens native to southeast Asia. As they become infected with mold (Phaeoacremonium parasitica, a dematiaceous fungus) they compensate by producing an aromatic resin over the course of several decades. The damage is so extensive that agarwood sinks in water. The growing of the infection results in a rich, dark resin within the heartwood. That resin is known as gaharu, jinko, aloeswood, agarwood, or oud/oude/oudh, valued in many cultures since antiquity for its distinctive aroma ~terribly complex with nutty, musty-earthy undertones redolent of undergrowth. Agar use dates back to prehistory: mentioned in the Bible, ancient Persian and Sanskrit religious texts and part of the first historical biographies in Sanskrit. Oud is also inextricably linked to Assam’ s cultural heritage, since the Indian monarchs employed the used bark of the Sasi Agar tree as writing-material for chronicling their royal circulars.
Oud nevertheless is prohibitevely expensive, fit for royalty only, even for niche and ultra-expensive brands and quite rare. One of the reasons for the rarity and high cost (above $62,000 cash for one kilo) of agarwood is the depletion of the wild resource: Since 1995 Aquilaria malaccensis has been listed in Appendix II by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, while in 2004 all Aquilaria species were listed in Appendix II, even though some countries have reservations for the latter listing. Middle Eastern or French perfumers seeking oud at source must establish ginormous bank funds in the pertinent countries, because governments are aware of the trade capitalizing on it. Additonal obstacles arise from the sheer reality of harvesting: Dead infected wood cannot be distilled and heavily infected live wood is not worth it as the wood itself is so more pricey. Thus the only wood distilled is live. Distillable wood is only good for a few months on the other hand, as the essential oil cells dry out, making oud a stratospherically expensive business.

Besides there are grades within the product: The highest quality comes from the tree's natural immune response (known as agarwood #1) while an inferior resin is rendered by deliberatily wounding aquilaria trees (agarwood #2, within which there aslo several grades of quality). Adulteration is not unheard of either, according to Tryvge Harris. The average oud available in the US will have changed hands at least 10 times (!), while rumours abound about Chinese factories who churn out beautiful but fake product ~made of the lowest possible grade agarwood soaked for a month in synthetic (European manufactured) oud. It's also worthy of note that Arabs are not that concerned with purity as might have been supposed, instead focusing on the pleasure principle the aroma brings.
Jenny, an amateur perfumer writing Perfume Making describes the sensation of smelling oud well:

"The scent of Oudh sometimes called Agarwood or Eaglewood is so incredible wonderful. It has all kinds of shades, it's smokey, deep woody, a bit sweet in an intriguing way. It even has some green notes and some kind of mouldy notes. It's hard to describe the scent. It reminds me of a blend of vetiver, birch tar, sandalwood, guiacwood, vetiveryl acetate, patchouli and some spicy notes like the note of clove".

One of her readers gives a price ballpart as well: The pure Oudh Oil Grade A costs about USD300.00/12mls (1 Tola) and the Resins for Grade AAA is about USD 7,000.

The difference in smell in the finished product is also relative to how oud is treated as a "note" from a perfumery standpoint (regardless of whether it derives from a natural or a synthetic source): From the Band-Aid note of Montale's Aouds (due in several cases to the phenolic guaiacwood used in tandem) to the smoother versions like in M.Micallef Aoud Homme when the lactic notes can pop up under the shriller introduction. Le Labo went for a camphoraceous feel with pungent rather than burning tonalities, while Tom Ford extended the effect with lots of cedar.

Word of Mouth and Word of Mouse
The literature on oud is picking up fast with all the semi-underground fora, specialty blogs and even mainstream press mentioning the prized ingredient:

"Oud (pronounced ood) smells expensive and it is. What it perhaps has going for it most is its obscurity and ineffability. There really is nothing quite like it. Hence its appeal. While the cultivation of agarwood can be traced back to ancient Asian civilizations, only recently has oud become the note du jour in high-end Western fragrances from Yves Saint Laurent's M7 to Tom Ford's Oud Wood."

Thus says Amy Verner on the Globe and Mail, only to semi-contradict herself later stating:

"Just don't expect to see oud featured in mainstream fragrances any time soon. Since it's not only rare but pricey, most experts think that it will remain on its rarefied perch." [ed.note: We already stated that Tom Ford's posh Oud Wood uses a synthetic anyway]

The truth is somewhat different than what you often read in the press, as we have proven.


Fragrances with Oud Notes
Fragrances stating oud notes start as low-end as Culture by Tabac: Arena di Roma by Mäurer & Wirtz (2002) and as mainstream as Versace pour Homme (2008) or Farenheit Absolute by Dior (2009). Ava Luxe, an ultra-niche brand with remarkably low prices states oud as a note in her unisex Chaos. Of course there are several niche players involved as well: From "classic oudet-cadet" Montale (Aoud Leather, Black Aoud, Red Aoud, White Aoud, Bois d'Aoud, Louban, Aoud Rose Petals ~the latter incidentally is sublime~ etc.) and the Arabian real mcCoy El Haramain's line-up to By Kilian Arabian Nights Pure Oud (and Cruel Intentions) and Le Labo Oud27. And from the newest Midnight Oud by Juliette has a Gun all the way through Ormonde Jayne Ormonde Man (2004), M. Micallef Aoud Homme, all-naturals Ayala Moriel (Charisma, Megumi, Razala), Dawn Spencer Hurwitz (Prana) and Neil Morris (Taj, Fetish, Flowers for Men Gardenia, Burnt Amber). If you want to smell real, medicinal expensive natural oudh beyond any doubt to get a feel of the material go no further than Anya's Garden Temple: the fragrance is almost entirely comprised of oud's dense complex notes. Mona di Orio's Oud also uses an amount of the real thing, accounting for the very pungent yet layered smell.

And remember that as with anything when there is great demand, the offer tends to cut corners. Think about it next time you're asked stratospheric prices and go by the only rule-of-thumb that should apply in choosing fragrance: how much pleasure it gives you!
Additional reading on the Eastern use of aloeswood in incense as well on this link.
Painting of As Afuddaula, the nawab of Oudh via Exotic India Art. Pic of agarwood rot by Robert Blanchette, University of Minnesota, Advertisement of M7 via easycorner.com.

Amouage Epic for Women & Epic for Men: exclusive fragrance preview & review

It's no secret that Amouage, the Omani fim with a cult following, has impressed us with their dense, proudly classical compositions which hark back to an era of intense glamour and calculated style which by now seemed long-forgotten if not for them. As if one entered the Atlantis in Dubai and found out all the water faucets were of solid gold but made to look matte from a distance. After all, we have already lovingly reviewed the utterly gorgeous Jubilation 25 and the appealingly unusual baroque Ubar on these links, so there's no denying it.



The concept of the new Epic duo (in contrast to Ubar it is presented in both declinations, for men and women), explained when we scooped the news, is a fusion coming directly out of the Silk Route, the fabled course from China to the West through the hard desert soils of Arabia. The two new fragrances incorporate traditional Middle-Eastern notes of oud and frankincense, as well as tea and Chinese flowers representative of the Far East, like heroes crossing the steppes in their own personal quest for inward glory. Of the two I was much more swayed into contemplating a big bottle purchase by the magnificence of the feminine and let me explain why.

Amouage Epic for Men recalls an old-fashioned leathery (due to castoreum) fougère, a little reminiscent of Bel Ami or even Jules, with spicy accents and a light oud note throughout which is pleasing to me as the dense mustiness of oud usually leaves me with sensory overload unable to smell anything else. The spices, of the cool type, such as prominent cardamom, mace and nutmeg, along with the tea note, could have escaped from Cartier's Déclaration. But careful: in order to envision those notes in Epic one should picture the former's perfumer, Jean Claude Ellena, having gained a few pounds, accordingly acquiring a taste for heavier molecules and jotting down notes at a smoky oriental den where assistants bring in mysterious batches of eastern ingredients instead of the luminous and diaphanous atmosphere of Cambrais. The musky drydown phase of Epic for Men is sprinkled with incense, but the interplay of animalic with more austere elements stop it short of it being an erotic sense in the Kama Sutra sense of the word, although it possesses sensuality of its own. My man pronounced it "trying a bit too hard perhaps" despite its ~on the whole~ rather light and somber (rather than flamboyant) nature; which I deduce is his equating such scents with overt manifestations of masculinity when there is no need to. Although it is an easy entry into real oud and should have people approach it without fear, I think I prefer the more distinctive Jubilation XXV myself.

Amouage Epic for Women stands a magnificent specimen of artistic triumph for the house, its distinctive marriage of oud and rose perhaps the loveliest espousal of those precious ingredients on the market today.
The sophisticated, otherwordly character of this scent is immediately apparent, with the dark, velvety petals (underscored by complimentary geranium) unfurling into infinity under the gaze of medicinal and shadowy oud/oudh; the latter lending a strangely cool & warm aspect to the composition along with a nutty aftertaste. Greenish and fresher tonalities peek beneath the gauzy gowns like a gust of wind that surprises. This interplay of temperature has been a favoured game since at least the gothic Tubéreuse Criminelle, but it has come out to the fore again with another Lutensian composition we reviewed recently, the just launched Fille en Aiguilles. In Epic for Women the rounder ambery and floral elements underscored by a discreet sweetness conspire to produce an achingly beautiful synergy of brainy and sensuous elements fit for a princess. But its Parthian shot is there are no seductive stakes in the cards and this is a young, pensive woman (or man, who could wear this equally well) with an introspective, contemplative look who can fall hard for legends; "a faithfull heart who makes wishes come true".



Notes for Amouage Epic for Women: Cumin, pink bay, Damascena rose, cinnamon, geranium, jasmine, tea, amber, musk, incense, sandalwood, patchouli, vanilla, guiacwood, orris, aloeswood/oud.
Notes for Amouage Epic for Men:Pink pepper, cumin, cardamom, saffron, mace, nutmeg, myrtle, geranium, myrrh, aloeswood/oud, sandalwood, leather, incense, cedarwood, musk, castoreum.

The two flacons for Amouage Epic reflect the well-known design of the brand now interpreted in a luminous imperial green, the colour which is thought to protect from evil in the East, decorated with a Swarovski crystal. The Eau de Parfum is presented in 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz bottles. Soon at select boutiques and now online at the official Amouage site. If nothing else, click to watch the oneiric video of a woman dressed in flowing black gowns (with Japonesque makeup) accompanied by the grand 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th Symphony.
The talented creative director of Amouage, mr.Christopher Chong informed us that he will be at the Pitti exhibition in Italy in September to answer the queries of perfume enthusiasts and present the new fragrances.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Amouage scents and news
Pic of Peter O'Toole and Omar Sharrif in Lawrence of Arabia via thecia.com.au

Travel Memoirs: Arabian Rituals

Encountering other cultures is often revealing of prejudices of one own’s culture. And nowhere is this more apparent than upon glimpsing the fragrant rituals of the Middle East and in particular the Arab world. Immersed in the tradition of aromas, which were brought to Europe through the Crusades, soon opens a vista of a sensuous world. Fragrance is used to augment not only a person’s attraction but also to enhance food, living quarters and personal objects, to give a sense of moral purity and to unite members of a social group. Furthermore, in Islam scent is coupled to beliefs of evil spirits being associated to foul smells, while “the scented person is surrounded by angels”. Fragrance therefore takes on a deeply spiritual meaning, a matter of sanctity or sin, allying one with the forces of good and dispelling evil influences.

Arab people use aromatics in abundance and they revel in expensive materials when they can afford it, but they try to use what they can lay their hands on when they cannot. Women adhere to the motto: “We must use lots of smells”. But contrary to the beastly trail one imagines being left behind, that does not happen in public. An intimate approach is favored: within family and friends or among other women’s company.

In the United Arab Emirates specifically, highly prized are aloe wood (with a price to reflect it of upwards 250$ a pound), saffron, musk, rose, ambergris, jasmine, Arabian jasmine, narcissus, sandalwood, civet, and henna. Oil form is prefered due to its sensual nature and because oil holds fragrance better. Seeds and leaves are grinded into powder to enrich those oils. Arabian women are increasingly appreciating the convenience of Western-style spray fragrances, emulating the Western ideal, yet there is also the belief those smell a little less beautiful due to the intense alcoholic blast out of the sprayer.

Different aromatics are employed for different parts of the body. After a thorough bath, based on the principle that the application of fragrance on unwashed skin invites disease, the ritual begins. The purpose of perfuming is to revel in the scent. Rose, musk and saffron are favored for use all over, while hair benefits from sesame seed or walnut oil, fragranced with essences of ambergris or jasmine. Mkhammariyah is a red-hued mixture of aloe wood, saffron, rose, musk and civet that is put on ears for scenting as well as coloring. The armpits are scented with ambergris or sandalwood, the nostrils with aloe wood, the neck with ambergris, aloe wood, saffron, musk, narcissus and rose.

The rituals become even more elaborate for a wedding: the bride is washed, massaged, oiled and censed with various unguents and lotions. The bridal dress is soaked in water aromatized with rose-water, pepper, saffron and civet and then fumigated with ambergris and musk. A husband says after describing his wife’s scents on her person and her garments: “We men like all scents used but have a preference for musk, ambergris, aloe wood and saffron”*. Arabian men are also catered for: often with the same scents ~ rose, ambergris and particularly aloe wood. They are rubbed on ears, under nostrils, on the palms and smeared on the beard.

Clothes are censed with “fumigation”: washed, dried and then placed on a rack over a big incense burner purposely used for this process. The scent captured by the fabric remains perceptible even after washing, that dense the cloud of smoke is. Darker clothes (usually worn by women) are being censed with aloe wood, musk, ambergris, rose, Arabic gum and sugar, while white clothes (usually worn by men) are only censed with aloe wood for fear of staining.

You can watch the ritual here:



Olfactory pleasures come in gustatory form as well. Food is cooked slowly, with lid on, so as to preserve the aromas of fragrant materials used, resulting in mouth-watering Epicureanism. Spices are highly prized, especially anise, pepper, cinnamon, clove, garlic and ginger. Rose-water, orange-blossom water, cardamom and saffron are recipe ingredients in desserts. Cardamom is used in Arabic coffee and saffron in tea, while both saffron and cardamom oil are often added to milk. Frankincense smoke is sometimes used for drinking water, also useful for disinfecting it, which is arguably the origin of the now archaic tradition. A pot is filled with thick frankincense vapors, then water is poured over it and the lid put back on.

An invitation to an Arab house is occasion for reveling in olfactory pleasures as a means of tightening social ties. Good manners dictate to arrive pleasantly perfumed and to compliment the scents of the house and the food. The end of a meal is a chance to partake in fragrance sharing rituals, which intensifies the group’s sense of unity. A 19th century narration of the process goes thus: “A small square box […] is filled with charcoal or live embers of Ithel and on these are laid three or four small bits of sweet-scented wood. […] Everyone now takes in turn the burning vase, passes it under his beard…next lifts up one after another the corners of his head-gear or kerchief, to catch therein an abiding perfume.”* Currently Arab hostesses bring out fragrances for the guests to savor and put on themselves. The higher quality the scents are, the higher the praise for the hostess when passersby and friends smell the guests leaving from the place of invitation.

The pious aspect of fragrances in the Arab world is reflected in places of holiness and funeral rites.
Mosques are weekly incensed with frankincense for purification and it is an old tradition that musk had been used in the mortar to render a pleasant smell for years to come. I haven’t personally smelled it as such but the literature insists that it was so.
Funerals are held to be scented affairs. The body is washed with water scented with fragrant leaves and then smeared with camphor, sandalwood and saffron oil. On each side a censer, with Arabic gum and frankincense respectively, is placed, while the burial ground is also aromatized with aloe wood sticks sending their fragrant trails to the heavens. However it is interesting to note that although perfuming is lavished on the dead, for this occasion it is reserved for them only: the living do not use perfume as a mark of separation from the realm of the dead and as an external manifestation of mourning.

Recapitulating, it is fascinating to contemplate that fragrance takes on so many aesthetic and moral uses in a rich culture such as the Arabic one. Perhaps the West has still things to get taught.

References:
*1) A.Kanafani “Aesthetics and Ritual in the United Arab Emirates: the Anthropology of Food and Personal Adornment among Arabian Women”, American University of Beirut, 1983 pp.42-90
*2) W.G.Palgrave, “Narrative of a year’s journey through Central and Eastern Arabia”, Macmillan 1866, vol.2, p.26

Artwork "Two Lovers" from the 19th century, via the Hermitage museum. Clip originally uploaded by BBCWomeninBlack (from the homonymous documentary) and kindly sent to me by Kels.