The House Of Oud Crop 2017 Review – Andrea Thero Casotti; 2017

I suspect I’m about to over-simplify a complex subject – and end up offending those who know far more about it than I do – but there’s a very particular odour that, to me, typifies Japanese incense. It’s the first smell that hits you when you walk into those serene, treasure-concealing shops in Kyoto (how wonderful it would be to catch a flight and visit them right now): a combination of agarwood, sandalwood and cedar that seeps out through the very walls. An odour that somehow manages to be both meditative – evoking thin tendrils of smoke reaching up to the heavens – and rather meaty and vegetal, as though suggesting that the sacred must never forget that its roots reside in the profane. Interestingly, it’s not a scent that I recognise in Comme Des Garcons Kyoto, although I gather that, for some, that particular piece of work does manage to convey the atmosphere of the city. However, it was with surprise and delight that I found myself remembering it when I sprayed the subject of today’s review, The House Of Oud Crop 2017.

I’m slowly working my way through some samples from this brand (nutshell assessment: they have several interesting things to offer) but so far this has been a stand-out. Somehow, the particular mixture in this limited-edition release – heavy on an especially robust, fleshy patchouli – captures the precise moment when you set foot across the threshold of those Kyoto shops and realise that you must slow down and prepare yourself for the wonders that are about to be revealed to you. The official blurb states that what sets this composition apart from the brands’ others is the inclusion of licorice. And I suppose some of that ingredient’s sticky darkness can be detected here, sharpened and emphasised through the use of star anise. But I’d say the true, heart-stopping star is the marriage of oud and patchouli: ethereal and earthy in equal measure.

Perhaps the illusion isn’t sustained all the way through to the end. There are moments in the drydown when the boorish nature of synthetic sandalwoods begins to muscle in on the calm. But by and large, the magic remains intact. Far too many scents are sold on ultimately false claims that they possess ‘transporting’ qualities, but this one is nearly as good as a first-class plane ticket. And at the moment, I’m more than happy to make do with ‘nearly’.

Persolaise

[The House Of Oud Crop 2017 review based on a sample provided by the brand in 2020.] 

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