I’ve had the good (?) fortune of being captivated by a smoky rose perfume on passersby in both Paris and Istanbul, over a decade apart. On both, and possibly more, occasions, I didn’t attempt to cross the language barrier to ascertain what it was. They weren’t the same fragrance, I’m pretty sure, but they both had a certain imprint that remains an olfactory grail for me to this day.
Rudimentary AI told me that Amouage Opus XII Rose Incense (2019; perfumer Bruno Jovanovic) was a prime specimen of smoky rose, and based on the listed notes, my desire to try it skyrocketed:
- Top: Elemi, Olibanum (Frankincense) Hyper Absolute, Black Ink Accord
- Heart: Damascena Rose Water Essential, Suederal, Frankincense Absolute
- Base: Myrrh, Vanilla, Sandalwood, Cedarwood
Fortunately, I was able to purchase a decant (my first ever that wasn’t packaged as a small sample vial!). I’ll say up front that this didn’t turn out to be my grail, but it has a lot going for it. It’s meant to be opulent and mysterious—per the brand, “Inspired by the uncertainty, drama and memories evoked by the unsolved, rosebud mystery. Rose Incense is distinctively floral and unmistakably woody with unique and contemporary elements.”
Having never seen the film Citizen Kane or really wondered about the meaning of “Rosebud” beyond its appearances in the comic strip Peanuts (spoiler: it’s a sled!), my first impressions were free from these heavier associations. Somehow, Opus XII Rose Incense gave me a “dark academia” vibe from the start, possibly because of the strong, dusty opening accompanying the fresh, dewy rose.
The promised inky note reads oddly minty to my nose, which regrettably isn’t a positive for me, although the creamy vanilla isn’t far behind to reassure me of better things to come. The overall picture is luminous thanks to the abundance of frankincense and elemi, both ingredients I love. Others have mentioned the bitterness of myrrh, but I interpret this as a fleeting moment of ruggedness and a predominant cardboard effect in the aura.
On my arm, Opus XII Rose Incense opens as a peppery rose, quickly followed by smoky resins, which by now are familiar but still hinting that they’re hiding something. I don’t quite manage to detect Suederal, a leathery aroma base I’ve smelled extensively on its own and played with in my experiments. Nor do I follow the comparison with Frédéric Malle Portrait of a Lady that many have suggested. To me, this is a pink rose adorned by its greenery and buried just under the other notes—it demands to be sought out by close sniffing for its reward.
The rose blends well with creamy woods in the base in later phases, but the lingering incense keeps it airy for as long as it can. In the final drydown, the rose stands tall amid a powdery vanilla base reminiscent of Bulgari Black but pinker and less sweet, yet not quite avoiding its infamous rubber territory.
All this time, it brings to my mind a gray backdrop. Is this more reflective of me or of Opus XII Rose Incense? If you know this fragrance, what does it evoke to you?
Nose Prose 
I’ve tried a few from this Opus line, but I always forget which ones. I’m pretty sure I’ve not tried this one, though. I like a few of the Amouage rose fragrances, including the two Lyrics, so I will have to check this out.
LikeLike
When Opus XII was released the Library perfume line was way too overpriced for me to try. Whilst other fragrance houses have now pitched themselves at this level of spendy, it has simply meant more scents I don’t try.
As with most early fragrance lovers I did go gaga for the early main range of Amouage. My Amouage rose is Lyric Woman, the outlier when it comes to the smoky element. The Silver Frankincense in Lyric Woman is more that of the tears before burning. That slightly antiseptic, euphoric, balsamic mix of aromas that is so hard to describe. She isn’t smoky at all, just lushly complex
LikeLike