In the Mountains of Oman, a Flower's History Comes Alive

Observer

22-05-2025

Imagine standing in the mountains of Oman, surrounded by a patchwork of bright pink and white damask roses, their scent filling the air. It's the middle of the rose harvest season in Jabal Akdhar, and amid all the natural beauty, Dr Valentina Bruccoleri is talking about something even more fascinating — the story of roses and what they've meant to people all over the world, across centuries.
Valentina's presence in Oman extends beyond the scenic landscape. As an accomplished art historian and curator specialising in Islamic and Chinese art, she brings a wealth of expertise to her role. Additionally, she has a profound interest in the history of fragrances. In her position as the new curator of the Wadi Dawkah Manufacture & Visitor Centre, working closely with the esteemed high-perfumery house Amouage, she will regularly visit Oman. Her aim is to develop programmes that enhance the guest experience and elevate the centre's cultural and artistic offerings.
After a busy morning exploring the terrace gardens of Jabal Akdhar, outside the modern distillery of one of Oman's rose farmers, Valentina began sharing stories about roses, weaving in her knowledge of art, history, and perfumes from her time working at the Louvre, the Forbidden City, and beyond. It was an unusual setting for a talk about a flower, but that's precisely what made it so special.
As the afternoon sun hits the mountains, Valentina begins her journey — not with flowers alone, but with stories from centuries past. She pulls out copies of small, delicate manuscript from her bag explaining that it was from a 12th-century Arab book, written in beautiful calligraphy. The pages show illustrations and recipes, like a medieval 'kitchen' of ingredients that included frankincense, white pepper, and roses. This wasn't just about perfume — it was medicine, magic, and art rolled into one. People believed that rosewater and roses had healing powers, and these recipes traveled from the Islamic world into Europe.
She explains how roses weren't just pretty flowers—they played a role in everyday life, medicine, and spirituality. Moving from medieval manuscripts, her story jumps forward in time, to the Ottoman Empire. Valentina describes Sultan Mehmed II, the ruler who took Constantinople in 1453, as a leader who wanted to be remembered smelling a rose. She points out a picture of him with a rose in his hand, a symbol of power and sophistication. Apparently, even the marble of Hagia Sophia was sprinkled with rosewater during its transformation into a mosque, blending faith, royalty, and scent into a kind of divine ritual.
The love for roses in the Ottoman court was huge. Court gardens grew roses in such quantities that, at one point, an estimated 4,000 kilograms of rosewater were sent to the Sultan's palace in a single year. That's enough to make a lot of perfumes, but also shows just how much the flower symbolised beauty, divinity, and royalty. Travelers from the period talk about how the scent of roses was everywhere, almost like a royal perfume that everyone was built around.
Valentina then takes us to Persia, where textiles decorated with rose motifs show a culture that loved the flower not just for its beauty, but as a symbol of love and spirituality. She describes an incredible textile in the Cleveland Museum that has dozens of roses woven into its design — a piece of art that shows the deep connection between the flower and Persian culture. For people in Persia, roses weren't just ornamental; they represented the divine.
She moves on to India, where Mughal rulers loved roses too. She shows us a tiny dagger decorated with gold and turquoise, with a painted rose on it — a sign of wealth and power made even more meaningful by the flower's long history in the region. In India, roses became part of grand ceremonies and celebrations, a symbol of beauty that merged earthly riches with spiritual meaning.
But it's not just about the physical objects. Valentina shares how poetry and stories bring roses even alive. She reads a verse from a famous Persian poet, Baki, who described roses and nightingales as symbols of divine love. In these poems, the rose isn't just a flower — it's the beloved, the divine, the spiritual soul longing for connection.
She also shows wonderful pictures of antique mirror cases from Persia carved with roses and flowers, made by artisans who understood what the flower meant — a symbol of beauty, prestige, and spiritual longing. Even today, these objects remind us that roses have always been more than just pretty flowers.
As she wraps up, Valentina points out how the story of roses isn't stuck in the past. It's a living part of our history, inspiring art, fashion, and fragrances even today. From the royal courts of the Ottoman Empire to modern perfume houses, the symbol and smell of roses continue to tell stories about love, power, and beauty.
Standing here in Oman, surrounded by roses and history, Valentina's words remind us that flowers like the rose are more than just nature's beauty — they're woven into the stories we tell about ourselves, about art, and about the world. Her journey was not just about a flower — it was about the human desire to find meaning, spirituality, and connection in something as simple and beautiful as a bloom.
Photos from Dr Bruccoleri's Instagram account: @valentinaforart