Nymphaea Caerulea

Hype or no hype, things should be smelled where possible. I was intrigued by RDF’s other release Water Wood. That had a wonderful singular lotus note that pierced through a strange architecture of woods and green tones. Based on this I gave NC a go, not really knowing at all what to expect. Upon application one is immediately struck by a lush aquatic vibe. Green, deeply tropical, pure thick lotus petals, almost camphorous, flecks of something yellow like mimosa flash here and there. The lotus is clearly the centrepiece here - far deeper and more extensive than in Water Wood. The aesthetic is a juxtaposition between a deeply transportive aquatic lushness, and an almost microscopic treatment of flowers that imprints vivid images of intimate stamens and misty petals. In whisky tasting this kind of expression might be described as ‘millemetric’, where one can discern miniscule facets of petals, buds and water tones emerge at different moments and on different points of the application. The flowers are rendered in a spectral fashion that allows one to discover combinations of their elements. The picture of lotus flowers is aptly captured here like one of those expansive and calm sunrises one might witness in India. An abstract sweetness comes and goes very fleetingly. It has a ‘hollow’ feeling devoid of any syrup or cloy. Then at times dry sections appear with hints of dusty, old, distant spiciness. Camphorous facets remind of dripping sap appear then become dried, only to come back liquefied again. Saltiness (presumably from the ambergris) is used to excellent effect, even though it does not ‘fit’ with the rest of the composition - salt has no place in the backwaters where secret pools of lotus bloom. The salt gives a depth to the experience, adds a little mystery. It holds the deep tropical tones and images at a distance, but also, it offers a slightly ‘animalic’ edge to the flowers. Later in the development more heady, ripe, floral tones begin to emerge. The saltiness persists, or better, a slow tide of saltiness rises in the composition, so that the feeling is increasingly more of restrained tropical flowers meeting marine tones. Lily and Lotus notes drift away. Jasmin, Tuberose and even Gardenia become noticeable but at the same time feel distant. Silage is moderate, and the full event lasts around 3 hours. Many will find this plain offensive for a perfume so highly priced. In fact it’s the only perfume I’ve ever tested where such stunted longevity hasn’t bothered me. Why? This perfume is different. As soon as you take the first smell it transports you. It’s dynamic, cyclical, evocative. It’s clear the perfumers care about the delicate ingredients involved, but more than this it expresses something deeply moving and abstract. It’s a tiny world. It comes and goes, and you are lucky to have experienced it. The usual ‘economics’ of perfumery don’t apply here. Value seems inconsequential. It is because of this brief hiatus, I decided to write this review.

$425 for 8ml is the price of this one. Granted, the materials are its calling card (some rare and very spendy extractions clearly went into this) but it’s not a standout scent in of itself and it doesn’t showcase the various blue lotuses in a way that they deserve. Essentially, it’s a sweet, syrupy floral with some powdery green nuances peeking through. Even though the lotus flowers—materials that function more as a fixative than as a featured note—are quadruple-layered, there’s a tuberose in this that absolutely dominates everything else rendering many of the other ingredients—specifically the lotus flowers and the ambergris—as pointless. I can pick up a touch of what I think must be jasmine, but the overall effect is surprisingly unilateral, murky, and dull. If you’re featuring something as insanely delicate as blue lotus absolutes, don’t bludgeon them with nuclear absolutes and synthetics. It goes to show that it takes far more than radically pricey raw materials to compose a good perfume. Last year, I had the opportunity to smell a rare hydro-distilled blue lotus from India that retails for around $250 per ml. Obviously, it was mind-blowing and profoundly limited due to production, but it also smelled notably different to what’s going on here. Blue lotus has a peaceful and delicate profile with a distinct watery facet—a little like ylang, only more diaphanous. If you can push beyond the powdery tuberose of this scent, what lotus does exist feels more chalky and convoluted. Consequently, I couldn’t recommend this as a blue lotus fragrance—but then again, I don’t know if a good solinote exists anywhere of this particular flower. The bottom line is that this is a messy and amateurish attempt to namedrop rare essences far more than it is an attempt to emphasize them. You’d be better suited tracking down a fantastic extraction and diluting it yourself. A wasted opportunity to do something special.