Christian
Astuguevieille is the first to admit it: he winced when he was asked to come up
with an oud by the Spanish group Puig, which owns the license of Comme des
Garçons Parfums (as well as Nina Ricci and Paco Rabanne). Hopping into a
bandwagon more crowded that the Tokyo subway at rush hour isn’t quite the style
of the trailblazing brand. It was in
fact in Bertrand Duchaufour’s Sequoia of
Series 2: Red that the oud note was introduced in modern Western perfumery in
2001, rather than in the 2002 M7.
Nevertheless,
Puig insisted. So Astuguevieille and Givaudan perfumer Antoine Maisondieu
started tweaking the structure of Antoine Lie’s Wonderwood… without a drop of oud. Nope, we need the real stuff,
Puig persisted. “We were bad students”,
Astuguevieille explains. “We kept our
different elements and added oud”.
As
most of you know by now, very few Western scents featuring the note actually
contain it: not only because oud is expensive, but because it is not yet
produced in batches of consistent quality, and in sufficient quantities, to
clear the various regulatory hurdles and to be added to the catalogs of oil
houses. But it just so happened that Givaudan had access to a cultivated
quality from Indonesia. So in went enough of the stuff to truly justify the
name.
So
far, so oud, right? Except that all of the above isn’t insider information: it
was the pitch Christian Astuguevieille gave at the press presentation. That’s
what made the event so Comme des Garçons-ish: after all, Rei Kawakubo has often
worked on displaying the structure of garments, “accidental” forms and mishaps.
Presenting a fragrance inside-out with the stitches showing is well in the
spirit of the house.
According
to Antoine Maisondieu, the effect of oud on a formula is closer to spices than
to an animal material like civet, which is more rounded. In Wonderoud, he enhanced the woodiness of Wonderwood even further, and boosted it
with ambery woody notes (the infamous spiky woods), blended in such out way
that the spikes don’t stick out.
And
they don’t. As a result, Wonderoud’s
angular block of wood with its intricate marquetry of notes more usually found
at the bottom of the olfactory pyramid is hugely radiant. It is much easier on
the sandalwood than its template but stronger on the vetiver – whose flinty,
salty, faintly grapefruity facets are legible throughout, so that this is
practically a vetiver theme. Patchouli, guaiac, cedar and the cedar-smelling
Australian sandalwood add smoky, honey-tobacco and bitter effects.
Staunchly
refusing to give in to Middle-Eastern folklore by pairing it off with rose or
musk, Astuguevieille and Maisondieu ease oud into the perfumer’s palette as a
material rather than a cultural marker. In doing so, they turn the brief inside
out, just as the artistic director of CdG Parfums turned the press presentation
into a gently ironic display of the marketing process.
Top illustration: Baitogogo by Brazilian artist Henrique Oliveira at the Palais de Tokyo (Paris).
I'm looking forward to trying this... I did like Wonderwood, though.
RépondreSupprimerI have a question: Back in the late '90s, I was certainly interested in fragrance, although not so aware, perhaps, as I am now, and certainly not oud-aware. I notice that Donna Karan's 1996 Chaos, at least in its current version, lists oud/agarwood in its notes. Was oud in the original version? If so, doesn't Chaos beat even Sequoia to the punch for introducing oud to the West? Chaos is never even brought to the table in the oud discussion. Usually, it's just M7. Granted, Chaos is not particularly oud-y.
Actually, you're right, it did start with Chaos. In French-based discussions the name never comes up because Donna Karan is, to my knowledge, not distributed (or very rare) in France. But it is indeed worth mentioning!
RépondreSupprimerIn US-based discussions it never comes up, either. Thanks!
RépondreSupprimer