Actually, I’m not that interested in perfumers, unless perhaps I meet them in person, as has occasionally been the case with Jens Lehmann, the heir of Harry Lehmann, and Lady Le Fèbvre from Urban Scents in their Berlin shops. With a fragrance mixer who has the extremely cool name "Rosendo Mateu," however, it’s different; one has to be curious. At first, I thought his name was "Mateu Rosendo," kind of like Matthias Rosenthal, but he is neither Hungarian nor Korean, so it cannot be assumed that the surname comes first. And indeed, Rosendo is a name that is probably not entirely uncommon in Spain; it is due to Saint Rudesind, who held the office of a viceroy as well as a bishop in northern Spain in the 10th century and founded monasteries or commanded military campaigns as needed. Back then, professional versatility was highly valued!
If you do a bit of research here on Parfumo and generally on the internet, you’ll find that Mr. Mateu is a gentleman of somewhat advanced age who, as a proud Spaniard (though the name sounds a bit Catalan, I could be wrong), has worked for several fragrance houses in his home country over the decades, namely Puig, Zara, Carolina Herrera, Mango, and Paco Rabanne. I only found one single fragrance that he created for a non-Spanish company (Ermegildo Zegna, Italy).
The works he has created, which I do not know at all, do not seem to consistently belong to the top tier. His apparently first fragrance, Agua Brava by Puig (1968!), receives 7.6 points here with over 100 ratings (still in production), but there are quite often ratings like 5.5 (for "Delirium"; I am not aware if there is also a flanker "Delirium tremens"). And his "Textures-Green" surely belongs to the fragrances with the most childish packaging ever, though he can’t be blamed for that.
It seems understandable that our friend Rosendo, after a long life as a perfumer in the service of major fragrance houses, which stuffed his creations into quirky bottles and perhaps also dissed and exploited him in other ways, would want to let loose completely alone and undisturbed in his old age and finally see his rare and striking name prominently displayed on the bottle (as Cattarella would say). Therefore, it can be assumed that the "Rosendo Mateu" line was created. And to ensure that this beautiful name truly stands in the spotlight and is not overshadowed by a fragrance name, the fragrances are simply numbered.
What can I say, I find this number 4 very successful. However, I can only perceive Oud here in traces, but he does not present himself as a pure Oudist, as saffron is listed first on the label. But let’s go in order.
The sweaty or sour notes criticized here do not appear to me. For me, number 4 starts off very dry, almost dusty and creaky, yet in a highly appealing way, spicy and resinous. Unlike many other fragrances in this direction, it is quite a vegetarian affair; any leathery or stinky secrets are not lurking around here. Woods, resins, and herbal spices do their work in the most charming and artistic way. I must admit that, unlike with "Safran Troublant," I do NOT distinctly sense the saffron that gives this fragrance its name. Since I like saffron, it may well be that the presence of this note contributes to the overall pleasant feeling I have with this fragrance. Despite the (very slightly prickly) dryness, the scent is not harsh for me even in this initial phase; it already shows a warm, vegetal, almost soft spiciness into which one can truly sink.
As the fragrance develops, it becomes less dry, very nicely rounded, smoother, and even softer than before. After about two hours, it takes on a nearly fruity quality, and here I also think I can detect a very delicate hint of slightly stinky but quite pleasant Oud. After about nine hours, it fades into a honey-like and still differentiated sweetness (the many listed ingredients from the base note must go somewhere).
Overall, this is not a highly original fragrance for me, but it is rich, multifaceted, characterful, and not boring. I like it. The longevity is adequate, and the projection for an EdP, especially with these bold ingredients, is rather moderate. The price - as I also mentioned in parts 1 and 2 of this mini-series - is about 175 euros in online retail, which I consider quite high, but given the quality of the fragrance and the prices of comparable products, I do not find it exorbitant. The fragrance is rightly declared unisex and is certainly universally wearable; however, I tend to see it more on a gentleman in his prime than on a young girl (though, upon further reflection, that could also create an intriguing contrast).