
I've spent a lot of time with Amouage's new Jubilation XXV. Why? Partially because others have been so divided by it (indifference to adulation), partially because it's one of those layered, complex fragrances that I need to spend a lot of time with, and mostly because everything I've tested lately has been utter tripe. Jubilation XXV may not be earth-shattering, but at least it's not utter tripe. So...
Though the result will not be concise, I'm going to recount my evolving thoughts on Jubilation XXV. I started with my usual sparing application on the back of one hand:
Jubilation comes from Bertrand Duchaufour, the same nose that gave us Timbuktu and Dzongkha, and represents another stage in his exploration of incense. Jubilation starts out as a spicy incense blend, including frankinsence and myrrh along with cinnamon, coriander seed, cloves and maybe even a slight touch of oudh. At first it reminds me of Dzongkha, but it starts out sweeter and less smoky. Floral elements are clearly present, but they are closely blended and hence difficult to distinguish and identify.
Jubilation grows smokier as it develops, and soon reveals a very dry leather note. At this stage Jubilation aligns itself somewhat with Durbano's Black Tourmaline, though it's much less smoky and obviously more floral. It dries down to a base of leather and incense with a healthy dose of iris root that again brings Dzongkha to mind. If you enjoy Dzongkha or Black Tourmaline but want something just a bit more easy to wear, I expect you will like Jubilation XXV.
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My second round with Jubilation involved side-by-side comparisons between Jubilation XXV and a couple of other well-regarded incense fragrances by Duchaufour, plus a full day's wear on my neck, chest and arms. This exercise grew into a meditation on the entire Amouage line:
When Amouage first emerged oh those 25 years ago, it was noted for (OK, notorious for) outrageous pricing, rare, high quality ingredients, engaging noteworthy noses, and ridiculous snob-appeal advertising. The fragrance market has since changed, and so has Amouage. Thanks to the current craze for "prestige" designer scent lines, you can now pay as much for scents from Comme des Garcons, Armani, Hermès, or Christian Dior as for Amouage Gold or Dia. Meanwhile Amouage moved (stooped?) to chase a younger, hipper market with "clean, fresh" scents like Arcus and Cirrus. These were less individual than the earlier offerings, and even eschewed or downplayed Amouage's signature frankincense note.
Last year's Reflection duo were a positive development. They were composed by outstanding noses (Roucel, Sieuzac), showed much more originality than Arcus or Cirrus, and won some favor from bloggers and critics. (Pace Luca Turin.) Now, hot on their heels, come the two Jubilation offernigs, the first since a new artistic head announced a major change in direction for the house.
So how does the male scent, Jubilation XXV, relate to the rest of the Amouage line? For starters, the frankincense is back. With a vengeance! Like the early Amouage releases, Dia, Gold, and Ciel, Jubilation also has a kind of blatantly floral heart that is uncommon among men's perfumes.
Jubilation has little in common with Gold's abundant aldehydes, sweet heady white flowers and civet. It is also a much thicker, darker, and woodier fragrance than the buoyant Ciel. Jubilation XXV is a more closely related to Dia for Men than of any other Amouage offerings. Yes, Jubilation is thicker, sweeter, and more opulent than Dia, but their frankincense/floral/leather accords run parallel, if distinct courses. With Reflection, Arcus, and Cirrus, Jubilation has nothing in common.
If Jubilation marks a change for Amouage, it's more of a course correction than an outing in a novel direction. Maybe this is what disappointed those critics who expected something radically new from Jubilation. The more positive responses may reflect Jubilation's depth, its exceptional blending, and its high quality ingredients. I find it no coincidence that Amouage discontinued Arcus and Cirrus when the Jubilation siblings appeared. Jubilation XXV and Jubilation 25 make both of them look like anomalies in the house history.
What of Jubilation XXV itself? I started out ambivalent. If Jubilation was going to win me over, it would do so gradually. Like it or not, Amouage's first scent, Gold, was a blockbuster release - potent, in-your-face, and unapologetically flamboyant. (Think Kouros, Kingdom, or Angel.) It was too limited in distribution and too expensive to turn the tide of perfumery, but you knew whether you liked it within minutes of putting it on. It's no surprise that coming from Bertrand Duchaufour, Jubilation XXV is a very different kind of animal. It is complex, but never gaudy, and eminently wearable. It somehow manages to have persistent sillage with very moderate projection. It works like an olfactory shadow that follows you at a distance.
In an attempt to break my ambivalence, I finally took a deep breath and poured what remained of my expensive sample down my right arm, where it left a persistent oily stain. (High concentration?) Applied generously, Jubilation XXV is an impressively rich, deep composition. First off, it reveals previously hidden fruity top notes - especially blackberry - over the heavier cinnamon, cloves, and incense. There's also patchouli. Lots of patchouli, which was relatively inconspicuous in lighter applications. The listed bay is also much more present in the heart, along with the floral notes, spices, and a very well-blended honey/patchouli/frankincense accord. With generous application the ambergris in Jubilation XXV packs a lot more punch, and lends the fragrance a warm, sensuous, yet slightly "dangerous" animalic glow.
Liberal application improves Jubilation's longevity as well. The luxurious drydown persists for hours and hours and is without question this fragrance's best feature. Oudh, myrrh, and opoponax engage in a complex dance upon a stage of leather. The medicinal astrigency of oudh and myrrh offer a perfect balance to the sweet opoponax.
Jubilation is by far the darkest men's scent in the current Amouage lineup. It's also heavier and sweeter than any Duchaufour scent I can recall, except perhaps Méchant Loup, to which Jubilation bears no other resemblance. In fact, Jubilation's closest kin are not Duchaufour's earlier incense compositions, but Amouage's own drier and more slender Dia, along with certain woody incense fragrances like Divine's L'Homme Sage (minus the saffron) or even Andy Tauer's L'Air du Desert Marocain. While it's no Patou pour Homme, I do not blush to compare Jubilation XXV to New York, Havana, Chergui, or Fumerie Turque in its of depth and complex structure. In one respect Jubilation XXV can indeed stand up to Patou pour Homme, and that's in its superb blending. With its velvet smooth accords and seamless evolution Jubilation XXV might just become a locus classicus in modern fragrance blending.
Jubilation XXV is not a revolutionary fragrance or a blockbuster release. But provided that you wear enough of it, it is an easily wearable and distinctive scent of obvious high quality. Along with the recent Reflection, I believe Jubilation XXV represents a return to form for Amouage after a string of less-than-distinguished releases. Jubilation XXV is one of those scents like Santal Noble, Iris Bleu Gris, Cuir Mauresque, and Muscs Koublai Khan, that have crept up on me slowly after making an indifferent first impression. Appreciating Jubilation XXV requires more than cursory acquaintance, along with expectations untainted by the hoopla of its advertising copy.
Now that the rest of the fragrance world (for better or for worse,) has caught up with its pricing, the house of Amouage may become more relevant than it once was. One can now spend Amouage prices, if not more, on a fragrance and get far less in return. If Amouage maintains its commitment to top-flight ingredients and continues to engage noses as accomplished as Bertrand Duchaufour, it may become a house to watch over the next decade.