The Library Collection Opus IX

As soon as I put Opus IX on and took a whiff, it left me completely speechless. For one, it's gorgeous. Two, it's got such an outsized other-world personality that it's impossible not to want to take a step back and admire it from a distance to get the full effect. I need to get a couple elephants in the room addressed first, before I go any further. Firstly, is that I'm a pre-Salmon Amouage junky. They have been one of my favorite houses, perhaps my biggest favorite, for a long time. I have a bias. If I've said it once I've said it a hundred times, I struggle to think of a better creative director-perfumer duo than Christopher Chong and Pierre Negrin so far this century. But they have let me down a couple of times. Once was with Opus V, which a lot of people adored, but I found it boring and meek (maybe this was more Jacques Cavallier's doing than CC's/PN's). Opus IX strikes me as Chong and Negrin, with the superbly talented Nathalie Lorson doing a lot of the hard parts, revisiting Opus V to correct what I personally thought was wrong with it. The resemblance to Opus V is striking, but it's in the differences that IX really stands on its own. Secondly, this perfume is unashamedly a massive concoction of sythentic materials. I highly doubt there is anything natural in here. If you are sensitive to synthetics, either physically or psychologically, stay far away. So, here we go.... Where Opus V was (supposed to be) an animalic iris, Opus IX is a full-on animalic jasmine. Stretching from top to bottom in the perfume are powerhouse beeswax and civet/musk accords that lock together in such perfect harmony and symmetry you couldn't separate them with a particle laser if you tried. The beeswax, while adding a floral-sap-type note to the proceedings, gives Opus IX a powerful sweetness that never goes the route of syrupy or cloying. This is one of the sweetest perfumes I've worn for quite a long time, and usually I am repelled by sweet, but this is such a natural and complex sweetness (thanks to its floral qualities) that I never find myself thinking about it like I would sugar. When you first apply the perfume, you are hit square over the head by a startlingly powerful and very indolic jasmine note. The jasmine is stripped of nearly all of its bright bordering-on-citrusy components and is so indolic you could almost be fooled into thinking it was something else. In the first few seconds I thought it might be some bizarre form of orris because it has that silky smooth, rooty, and very buttery aroma that often comes with orris - but, nope, over a bit of time it revealed itself to be jasmine. When the jasmine dries down, the floral and sweet beeswax carries the plot line. The transition from one to the next is so seamless you almost wonder if it happened at all, but the key difference between the two is that, though the jasmine is very unique, it is also fairly simplistic whereas the beeswax evocates the jasmine and much more. No less important to this perfume is that massive dose of civet/musk-type accord. It is far from being light and abrasive, like a soap musk would be, but it is very loud. Smooth, oily, slightly sweet and sticky, it is also very animalic. It smells like it came out of the back of some wild beast. I half-expected my dog to start humping my leg. Whatever material Chong, Negrin, and Lorson used for this musk accord I expect it has some molecular bonding with uranium or plutonium; it goes off like a nuclear bomb. At 10 hours in the perfume is still going strong. Have I mentioned how much I love Amouage? When they say they're giving you an EdP concentration, they really give it to you. Their EdPs pass for extraits by many definitions. And it's around this timeframe, when I thought Opus IX had told its whole story (and when most perfumes would be completely gone), it shifts again! Lorson and Negrin somehow manage to use vetiver and ambroxan to carry on the jasmine/beeswax floral animalic accord further still. To my nose it's almost rose like. All of the previous characteristics I described are still intact, the perfume has just switched gears. Absolutely brilliant. Lastly, I wasn't shy when I applied IX, but that doesn't explain why it filled my house with its aromas - but the musk material propelling this perfume certainly would explain it. So, a word to the wise: this is not an office friendly perfume; apply it very conservatively. Opus IX makes a statement, and a very big one at that. Next to Opus V's Stephen Hawking-esque voice box, Opus IX is Luciano Pavarotti standing next to you at full volume. Pavarotti was called "King of the High Cs" because that high C note near the top of the tenor register is hard to hit and to hit well, but he could hit it with such smoothness and power that it sounded effortless. Just like his voice, Opus IX is loud, but it is also sweet, silky, definitely elegant but with a playful raunchiness, breathtaking high notes and rumbling-core-of-the-Earth deep resonance. Opus IX is an amazing perfume, and a great example of what Chong and Negrin achieved together when Amouage was daring, bold, and creative. I used the past tense on purpose. Opus IX, like so many of Amouage's greats, is discontinued. Hold on to your Pavarotti records and care well for them, he's no longer around to make anymore.

Perfume spotlight Amouage Opus IX - Unexpectedly Gorgeous, Hypnotic, Cross-Cultural Dream I fell in love in reverse with Opus '9' .. I was standing in front of the Library Collection trying to recall which one of the two newer ones Christopher Chong had told me I would fall for... I remembered it was either 7 or 8 or was it 10...? I took full spray fragrance-on-skin shots of those three. 7 and 10 (pardon me using the Arabic rather than the Roman numerals), 7 and 10 were totally my kind of perfume. They rested well on me, they coincided with what I loved and enjoyed (Leather, Smoke, Rose!)...I thought smelling both "my kind of fragrance" Almost swooning. ALMOST. It was only, almost walking away from the Amouage counter that I decided I would try IX, Opus '9'. I was struck dumb, speechless, put into a sort of reverse anaphylactic shock. There was that over-ripe, almost meat-like tropical fruit reference cossetted underneath a healthy dose of prowling civet. The indole in the piquant jasmine note rubbed straight up into a dark-green guaiac wood that gave no quarter. You were either prepared for the dive into deep space or you were not, but it was going to happen like at the count of 3. 1,2,3 the Dive began... And I was totally hooked. Yes the screech of rubber against asphalt, the heady indolic jasmine, the submerging of black pepper berries in a vat of white flower butter... it all did its magic on me. My partner in fragrant crime Lorna Eng cringed and said, “Mark, Superstinkies Chan are you sure, there’s a note that upsets me in there...!” But I was by then, well-transported to a different world. Dark, damp and yet heavenly. No nymphs or faeries, no elven lights. But nubile apsaras and young arjunas both dancing and bending the bow, aiming the arrows. I was taken prisoner, totally floored, by a beauty I had not expected to be bottled, let alone sold in the air-conditioned privilege of Singapore haute shopping at the atmospheric prices that the Opus line commands. I had met my match. My radiant phantom turning a corner and leading me on. On down a ceremonial progression of green vetiver, grey ambergris nesting on a modern rotating twist of white flowers and rubber tyre on road. Yes I have read the marketing that Christopher has told the media. Yes I love Callas and I am enjoying the 1958 Lisbon Traviata that he told me inspired him. But what he communicated to the noses Nathalie Lorson and Pierre Negrin intrigues me. Because he has curated here my perfect Ambrosia a la the Trade winds of South-East Asia. Perhaps this is what remains most poignantly... His dreams crossed mine, one culture slips into another and they cross-fertilise most unexpectedly: His Traviata for my Ramayana, his Lisbon for my Jogjakarta. His ode to Camellia for my love for the 7-petalled yellow Gardenia. Wear this with care. Choose your occasion correctly. But hey, if you already have a sample or a bottle of Opus IX you know full well you are ready for the dive and the heavenward spiral after. Thank you Christopher Chong , thank you Amouage for this marvellous perfume

In search of skanky ambergris jasmine, Opus IX came as a contender. Honestly, I am envious of all of you who smell the purported jasmine bomb. Perhaps, like Ouch! notes, this fragrance is weather dependent and worth a revisit. (EDT: since owning this bottle Opus IX and I have become better acquainted... jasmine totally blooms, waxy and dark). At first spray on this cold, gloomy day, the jasmine is quite green and watery to my nose, morphing quickly into a hit of salty ambergris, raw, dry leather, vetiver root, and sweet, fresh sawdust, with a hint of soured milk and a touch of glossy vinyl (maybe waxy, lipsticky beeswax? I'm hearing you nada); somewhat androgynous and bearing hallmarks typical to both sexes at once, as opposed to being sexless; erotic and fascinating; quite to my liking. A dry, vintage vein, yet with contemporarily synthetic accents and akin to something I would find in a Costume National bottle. I can't get enough of these intriguing contrasts. The inspiration: the opera La traviata (or the fallen woman), written by Giuseppe Verdi. But let's not stop there. Verdi was inspired by a theatrical performance of Alexandre Dumas', fils novel The Lady of the Camellias -- Dumas, fils, illegitimate son of a dressmaker and Alexandre Dumas (The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers), and who was not legally recognized by his novelist father until the age of 7. Dumas, fils falls for a courtesan later in life, believed to be the inspiration for Lady of the Camellias. In his psuedo-autobiographical novel, the central character, Marguerite wears a red camellia to signal her lovers that she is menstruating and unavailable, and a white camellia to elicit invitations. And she is the object of bourgeois Armand's desire. Separated by Armand's father's efforts to thwart the illicit relationship, Marguerite eventually dies of consumption before she and Armand find fulfillment in their love. Opus IX is this: beautifully tragic in the most heartbreaking way, written on a parched manuscript forgotten in a vintage wooden bureau drawer, littered with fragments of dessicated, rancid flowers, contrasted by a waxy neoteric composition. The story behind the inspiration of the fragrance really helps me understand the artistry behind the perfume, right down to the color of the flacon and reference to the illusory scent of camellias. For me, worthy of consideration as a signature, and yes, I'd like to reserve a full bottle of tickets to this magnificent olfactory performance.

I just tested this out today, wore it to work, entire 2ml sample from scent split,(not very happy with samples from this company, none seem to measure up to reviews for longevity and sillage). That being said this lasted and projected slightly better than most of the other amouage samples I've received from scent split. This projected intimate to moderate for about 2.5 hours, then became a detectable skin scent for about another 1.5 hours, then it was very hard to detect on skin, (but still could smell on clothes if I put my nose to it). I feel like this fragrance sprayed from a bottle probably has much better performance than what I got from this sample. All that being said. I love this, this is what I like about amouage fragrances, this is unique. This reminds me of myths man, not how it smells but how it's constructed. Especially with this unique "camelia note", which I believe is what this fragrance is intended to focus on. It is on the cover of the box (no it's not a rose like I thought it was and avoided looking into this scent because of), then I read the notes, found it was "camelia", and I read a bit about this fragrance and from what I understand the camelia flower has no scent. In this fragrance it's referred to as a "fantasy note" , and based off what I smell, mostly in the opening, but also sticks around through the whole life, (similar to how the chrysanthemum works in myths man), amouage (or the perfumer) has created a smell for this flower. A "fantasy note", I believe this is what I'm smelling because it's definitely not jasmine which is also listed here. The smell almost has a metallic aspect to it, it's a very interesting floral, and in my opinion (like the chrysanthemum in myths man) very wearable for men. I definitely get underlying somewhat dirty animal/ambergris after the first couple hours, but it's not disgusting , it's actually very nice, and the guaiac wood compliments these notes nicely. This base reminds me a bit of some aspects of the dry down in figment man, which is probably my all time favorite amouage so far. They share animal and guaiac wood notes, although opus ix seems to lean more dirty animal vs figment leans more dirty earth. What I didn't get was leather or the bees wax, so I really want to try this again, I actually think I just want to get a bottle of this one, it's so intriguing. Overall first impressions, this is wonderful, seems like it needs more than just one wearing to really appreciate the nuances.

I first tried Opus IX back in 2016 and was initially put off by how unabashedly feminine it was. I appreciated that it was up to something cool, but it just wasn’t for me. Cut to a month ago when I was deep in an ambergris kick thanks to Les Indemodables (Ambre Supreme and Escale D’Indonesie) and exploring some Amouage frags and decided to give this curio a revisit. I suppose my tastes have changed quite a bit, because the fleshy floral hit of Opus IX on my skin now sparked absolute pleasure- the floral flush of Jasmine was intoxicating (I also get a lot of lilac, a note not listed here) buttressed by sweaty, salty ambergris and waxy honeycomb. The blend of these elements recall an old courtesan flopped on her four poster bed draped in velvets post-coital- pure vintage, baroque sex. I deeply appreciated the artistry at play, and although the flagrant display of Jasmine here is truly not my vibe I kept winding up spraying myself with the decant and huffing myself like a glue addict. I went out in public enamored with this romantic and, frankly, kind of lewd aura that surrounded me- I met up with one of my perfume-crazed friends and had her sniff me “I smell like an old French whore, and I love it!” Her eyes fluttered as she took in a whiff and exclaimed “you smell amazing!” By that point I was addicted and had to get a full bottle- fortunately I scored one at a great price even though Opus IX is sadly discontinued. It’s a shame more people won’t get to experience this masterpiece. It’s uncompromising and definitely not for everybody (even though I’m a man, I doubt many others would embrace it as much as I do), but I think it’s an evocative concoction that has the rare ability to tell a complete story through olfactive suggestion. I cannot wait to see what this smells like when summer dies down and there’s a chill in the air- I have a feeling its warm sensuality will cut through the cold like a knife hidden in a garter.

IT. Credo che questo profumo sia più maschile che femminile. L'ho provato per la prima volta alla fiera dei profumi di nicchia a Firenze (13a edizione di Fragranze nel 2015). Questo è uno dei pochi profumi che contiene l'aroma di miele (perché la camelia, tra l'altro non ha alcun aroma) e non crea una sensazione di pura femminilità. Immagino che il segreto è nella miscela di vetiver, zibetto e gelsomino, che lo rendono assolutamente maschile. Il miele crea soltanto un'idea di femminilità, che in più o in meno sia nascosta dentro ogni maschio. Assolutamente perfetto per la linea Opus di Amouage, che assomiglia a una biblioteca dei profumi e che contiene ora 9 "libri" profumati, ognuno con la propria storia. Infatti, Opus IX, anche se fosse creato pensando La Traviata, potrebbe piuttosto prendere il nome "Il maschio e il suo alter ego". EN. I believe that this perfume is more masculine than feminine. I found it for the first time at the niche fragrances exhibition in Florence (the 13-th edition of "Fragranze" in 2015). This is one of the few fragrances that contains the aroma of honey (because the camellia, by the way has no scent) and doesn't create a feeling of pure femininity. I guess that the secret is in the blend of vetiver, civet and jasmine, which is absolutely masculine. Honey just creates an idea of femininity, which more or less exist inside every male. Absolutely perfect for the Opus line of Amouage, which is some kind of the library of scents, that contains now 9 "books," each of them has its own history. In fact, Opus IX, even if it was created in memory of La Traviata, really could be named "The male and his alter ego."

Amouage IX 100ml bottle Artistic storytelling from Christopher Chong. I like his direction and underneath his put together personal exterior thrives a creative, passionate man. Here in Amouage IX sit back in your favorite chair, relax with a drink and let this play and enjoy like your favorite music... It opens rather strongly with black pepper, insence, sweet ambergris and floral jasmine. For a moment it reminded me one of the accords used in Fate but with the volume turned up with the pepper to grab your attention immediately. Its a performance in a bottle, artistic twists, turns and resolutions. Once the opening subsides a rich creamy, sweet, waxy camellia accord surfaces. A blooming beauty that hasnt been done before. The woods, animalics keep this warm on cold winter days and like the opera its based on, you have its highs, lows and textures in its story. Its chic, modern, dramatic in its sillage and longevity..a one of a kind unique fragrance with its Amouage silky polish. Its modern yet something is haunting to years past when the great operatic divas were larger than life and even more demanding. The more I wear it, the easier it is to understand its brilliant nature so do give this one multiple wearings. Its not for newbies to the fragrance game but more of an advanced course..so enjoy the performance and bravo for the daring to release such a scent Revision: Camellia becomes much more creamy and beautiful in the warm spring nights. I really do think most Amouage are calibrated for warmer weather.

Applies warm amber(gris) spice and brisk, raw vetiver. Incredibly deep, high quality ingredients. Almost rivals Boadicia the Victorious "Green Sapphire" for best vetiver ever. That is far more pure, sunny dry grass - while this is more cozy indoor cabin. Minimal sticky beeswax adds balance from the background. White musk swoops in, overwhelming vetiver in a way that's more blunt and abrasive than the nuanced opening. There's so many chunks that remain appealing, but it pushes me away. Feels like I was teased, then rebuffed. As skin warms, mild sweetness balances dry musk and let's vetiver back out to play. I guess it takes time for complex elements to harmonize/settle. The gentle sweetness also brings out indolic jasmine - which was surprising to realize how similar it can be to vetiver. Perhaps I was conflating the two previously? Formidable strength is not overpowering. Masterful and so close to being a must-own, if the musk didn't stale things out. I get that powder adds formality, but feels like a letdown after the superior opening. 1ST REVIEW: Opening bursts dank jasmine. Wow! I don’t even know what indolic means, but it’s so accurate. Projection is insanely intoxicating, holy shit. Rich lilac/jasmine is not bright or sweet floral. Instead, it’s deep and heady. An even better version of Pierre Guillaume’s “Drama Nuui 23.” This is darker and more mysterious, which counters the floral element better. Damp, spiced vetiver pairs well with the floral notes. Uniquely deep and sexy with a dry chord.

The Library Collection Opus IX Amouage (Full wear) Opus IX is a good fragrance to live with. this is floral amber fragrance. I really like how this amber accord build up. I do notice the certain amount of Guaical and mediem impact amber However, it mute by the beeswax material become one round and dense amber. This amber have mild animali undertone by Civet. yet the amber part is not overly animal. It's almost leathery like. But Beeswaxs is strong. The highlight of Opus IX, is the Jasmine that adjust with pink floral. softly green. This is probably the carnal Jasmine, because I do notice the carnal aspect, borderline Poo-like. But the way the amber blends with Floral, it just so round and precision. That this isn't smell poo-like at all. It is muted amber jasmine, I can't think of any case of using beeswax. That unsweetened as good as this, even Bee by Zoologist share some characteristic of Beeswax. However, In this one it just so good. I like the message of this fragrance being very stable, leathery, trustable, sexy, slight dark and dominance. yet gentle and passive, it is a passive aggressive fragrance because this fragrance really project in soft-moderate manner but dense and strong and the same time. Opus IX is a must for any amber fragrance lover which need strong and clear message of authority. Doesn't mind a floral support and love to stay with a fragrance with stable development page. Opus IX is a firm love for me.

Being very disappointed with the direction Amouage has been taking since new leadership I've been looking back at the older releases I ignored in the past, and boy what a treat it's been so far. I took a leap and blind bought this one, this is a bigger leap than I normally take as jasmine isn't a note I typically enjoy that much. What a beauty. This is peak Christopher Chong style Amouage imho. There are obvious synthetics in here but they are used very well imho, and the jasmine and leather are very well blended that it might actually be my most favorite floral fragrance of all time. It really smells in part like picking up a flower and smelling it straight after being picked, that green tinged petal smell, the pollen (likely part of the beeswax aspect) and the watery feel from a juicy bulb (maybe the ambergris vetiver combo). Of course with a jasmine funk wrapped around it all...I'm trying not to over use the "I" word here :) As things develop the spices and the creamy woods fall into place, and the civet can be felt giving a distinct vintage touch to the composition. I did touch the Opus collection on the masculine end of things and most of the Man collection of the standard range obviously. But I must go back and try ALL the (older) collection even the ones supposed to be strictly feminine if this is anything to go by; A treasure trove.

@Originaldeftom- I'm gonna contact Fragrantica to see if i can add another balloon to your review. Realistically, you should have about 27 of em..Anyway, let me tell you about... this....fragrance....here..Man ole man (*sighs*)...This is why i signed up. I jumped into this hobby head first to discover fragrances such as this. Opus IX is like the white haired sensei in a karate movie. From a small demonstration, you know he's a badass. Look above...you notice something? Check out the "This perfume reminds me of" section. Yeah...exactly..this reminds you of nothing! The more fragrances that you have in your collection, the more you can appreciate this scent. Although this red animal is glamorous, i wouldn't necessarily call it a picturesque perfume. This is bewildering, mystifying, ostentatious and downright inebriating. One of the few fragrances out there that has favorable civet and jasmine which manages to be buddy-buddy throughout the entire duration. Don't let the camelia and jasmine fool ya, perfect enough for a man to wear. This has $355 dollar longevity. I'm talking take a shower and it's still there kind of durability. I can go on and on about Opus IX..Just know that if you can afford the price tag, make sure you check it out.

This smells nasty as a badger's arse on card, but on the skin the sweet, playful nature of the florals begins to dance and flirt, and the (admittedly strong) civet doesn't completely dominate. On skin it also quickly loses the petrolly, chemical edge that remains when I spray it on a strip. It doesn't smell like Malle's Superstitious, but it shares something, perhaps the loud, unabashed jasmine fanfare with skanky retro opulence. I'd say Opus IX is easier to wear than Superstitious, maybe because it lacks the explosion of cheesey aldehydes. I'm a sucker for beeswax and here, it really creeps in after an hour or so, absolutely marvelous. This is a unique and beautiful creation which could never have been very popular, and is a far cry from Amouage's current output (I'm not a salmon-hater BTW). It does that thing of being very modern while also seeming like a love letter to 80s bangers. Update: it's as difficult, if not more, to pull of as Oudh Infini. It doesn't smell the same but the civet note is similar and extremely strong in both. In Oudh Infini it slowly recedes, whereas in this it's infinite, ironically huh.

While I am totally sure I have smelt jasmine in different forms and especially in some or even many perfumes, I find none of it here. Jasmine is just different. Even more, I don't recognise a single note that is listed above. Instead of that I do recognise one and only one flower which has one of the best blossom smells in the nature: white rounded little-red-circle-in-the-centre-type of narcissus! I just searched out that it is called narcissus poeticus (poet's daffodil). They bloom in autumn and I remember the smell of them because we used to bring these to teachers at school every time the school year began in September, in the opening celebration/festive day. They are not so commonly visible anymore but whenever I see one I just have to smell it. And that's what I smell in this perfume. I am surprised that the smell of this flower has been turned into a perfume so accurately. For comparison, Opus VIII that I happen to have is much dirtier flowerbomb, Opus IX is elegant and beautiful, stunning and breathtaking although after a few hours this also gets closer to what Opus VIII is.

As is my opinion with ALL extremely powerful (especially animalic) perfumes- spray very lightly to get the most gorgeous experience! I use only half of one spray on the chest under my shirt and the smallest amount possible to get a TINY drizzle out of the trigger spread between both wrists. And with so little it is still a powerhouse! Light application allows the nuance to come through and the "funk" stays intriguing rather than overpowering and leading to potential disgust. The waxy creamy jasmine is intoxicatingly well rendered. This is a stunning sensual creation. I don't want to wear it all the time but when I am in the mood there is nothing that comes close. Too bad it was discontinued, but I'm happy I got mine! They still have sample sprays and bottles available on FragranceNet. If you like animalic florals I recommend grabbing a sample spray while you still can.

Ahhhh YUUMMM. This is bad ass sexy jasmine. WOW. The opening is peppery jasmine it's super strong but it dries down to the middle/base almost right away and its woody, leathery, musky, animalic, you get the beeswax that makes it feel like of 'round and full' its dense, its hardcore. If you are obsessed with jasmine i highly suggest this it's a jasmine dominant scent and the other notes in here you can pick out but they just kind of highlight some of the different ways jasmine can come across. I like heavy waxy dense jasmine and the beeswax perfectly brings that out to me, its got the civet to get you that heady indolic jasmine, the peppery notes kind of like jasmine right off the plant with a little bit of the greenery i think thats the vetiver. I could go on. If you want to feel like catwoman in a vinyl suit wear this its amazing like bad ass bitch scent :)

Carnelia is a first for me, so I'm not quite sure how to identify it. An impishly animalic jasmine combines with sweet beeswax and the spicy bite of black pepper to produce a juicy floral accord that reminds me of tuberose. Luscious, creamy, indulgent, almost lactonic. My only disappointment is that the base notes--namely, civet, ambergris and vetiver--are some of my favorite notes, and they're barely discernible. Opus IX dries down into the smell of bubblegum found in those Blow-Pop lollipops from the 90’s. Very feminine. One of those "love to smell but wouldn't want to smell like"s for me. Opus IX is Orto Parisi Seminalis with ingredients and blending of a significantly higher quality. I'm not a fan of the old bottle design, but who cares. Male or female, you should get your nose on this at least once.

Loud, beautiful, attention grabbing scent that you’d wear to a ball or to tea where you’re dreaming up a grand party. Insanely animalic, but not pissy and unwearable. I don’t understand where some reviewers are smelling the fecal aspects unless there are some of us who poop floral scents! For me, it’s like sticking your nose into a bowl of wilting jasmine plucked yesterday. Let it unfold on warm skin and you’re in for a heavy, heady, and hypnotic treat. The civet note which normally scares me a bit is actually smooth and sweet. I’m reminded a bit of vintage wear like Paloma Picasso EDP and the indolic honeyed jasmine of Fils de Joie by Serge Lutens. Except this is sharper and unapologetic in its attitude. Wallflowers needn’t apply.

Opus IX defines niche perfumery in my mind. It is my second favorite dirty jasmine smell after Xerjoff Al-Khatt but tells a complete different story. Opens on my skin with photo realistic night blooming jasmine that feel freshly picked placed into a composition that I have never remotely smelled prior. I had a carded sample that I smelled once a day for over a week slowly warming up to it. From bewilderment to an undeniable deep primal need, a full bottle was not an option. This to me is a gem, not only because of the quality, performance but because it is honest in its duality. The dirtyness of raw truth, beauty of the ensuing drama. Opus IX radiates epic levels of theater and I love it for that very reason.

Opus IX is a masterpiece and would surely have been recognised as such had it been released a couple years ago and not now, in times of fragrant overstimulation. It's unique, historically relevant, structurally focused, unapologetic and, as someone has already noted, wonderfully theatrical. It's haute parfumerie, the way Poison and Tubereuse Criminelle are. Oddly enough, it manages to be comforting in this somewhat primal, animalic way. Think taking a nap with your head rested on a wild cat's belly. A true gem in my collection that I rarely wear but am super proud to own. Oh, and it's truly praiseworthy that Amouage, being this far into the game, had not lost its willingness to create perfume art.

Enrium's review is so well-described and spot-on that I cannot really add much. But here are my thoughts: This is an aphrodisiacal jasmine. You have to love jasmine to enjoy this perfume. But not a sweet one; the animalic, indolic, pure jasmine. Like jasmine oil. The jasmine in this is so full-bodied and fleshy that it almost makes you want to bite those white flowers (I know, it might sound strange, but it's the feeling I get!). It's probably the beeswax adding this sensation. Maybe not a complex scent, but a really high-quality and beautiful one. A sensual jasmine with waxy, ambery quality and peppers warming it up.