While today the word “julep” may call to mind a syrupy concoction found in alcoholic drinks and pre-modern medicines, its origins come from the luxurious substance called gulab or rosewater. Befitting its precious scent, rosewater sprinklers (gulab-pash or gulabdan) often took the form of a bottle with a round base and a tapered, narrow neck, which aided in preventing evaporation and also regulated consumption. This sprinkler goes a step further by evoking the image of its floral contents in a cleverly executed design. The fluted bowl features petal-like patterns, creating the appearance of a lotus-bulb base. The pierced silver encasing on the neck and narrow stem form stylized motifs that loosely echo the lotus and petal theme. Meanwhile, the pierced foot of the bowl completes the aquatic floral reference with repeated fish motifs supporting the lotus bulb.

In Islamic societies from at least the medieval period onwards, rosewater often accompanied costly perfumes and incense burners as a key element in hospitality rituals. These practices even made their way into epic poetry, such as Firdawsi’s Shahnama (composed ca. 1010), which recounts numerous courtly receptions where rulers would present their subjects with musk and rosewater (mushk u gulab) in the finest golden receptacles. In these acts of performative perfuming, customarily hosts offered rosewater as a refreshment to guests after a journey, upon entering and leaving their home, and particularly before and after meals. These containers could hold either their eponymous liquid or perhaps a variant such as lemon water. In general, metal sprinklers like the one here, less common than their economical glass counterparts.

Similar uses of rosewater in hospitality spread from Iran to the Ottoman and Mughal empires. Particularly in the latter domain, authors of texts like the Ananga Ranga or Stage of Love (written ca. 15th-16th c.) expanded upon rosewater’s uses in erotic contexts, stating that “bottles of rose water and various essences” had properties that could treat and restore vigor. In the Ottoman context, gilt metal and silver vessels, including rosewater sprinklers, were prized as gifts in royal celebrations like circumcision festivals. In daily life, gilt sprinklers became indispensable parts of coffee sets, placed alongside a serving pot, cups, an incense burner, and a bowl of sweets, which regularly appear together in the inheritance registers of elites like pashas and agas. When not in use, an owner might display a sprinkler in a decorated arched niche or shelf in a reception room, where it could impress visitors and stand ready for use. For an example of this type of space, see LACMA’s Damascus Room (M.2014.33).