Baudelaire, shot by Nadar

Since I write on this blog, I can’t stop thinking about travelling. Travelling means great encounters, discoveries, and gives a new vision of the world.

In his poem, Charles Baudelaire describes an ideal place, where time would no longer run out, and all would be luxurious, beautiful and quiet.

What I found interesting is Baudelaire describes smells as taking part to the ideal of the place. Indeed, “ Les plus rares fleurs [ page ]Mêlant leurs odeurs Aux vagues senteurs de l’ambre” means “The rarest flowers which are mixed up with vague smells of Amber”.

Isn’t extraordinary? 150 years ago, Baudelaire defined what is Luxury: something which deals with 5 senses, mixing pleasure, Beauty, and lifestyle. And above all, it’s making us forgetting about time. No one can’t buy time, but one can make it flee slower by dreaming. Dreaming is the key, and it’s the true purpose of Luxury.

Unfortunately, I can’t translate the whole poem, because it wouldn’t be respectful for Baudelaire (I think I would destroy his masterpiece!) and it wouldn’t be close to the French version. I’m sorry! I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.

L’INVITATION AU VOYAGE (Les Fleurs du mal).

Mon enfant, ma sœur,
Songe à la douceur
D’aller là-bas vivre ensemble !
Aimer à loisir,
Aimer et mourir
Au pays qui te ressemble !
Les soleils mouillés
De ces ciels brouillés
Pour mon esprit ont les charmes
Si mystérieux
De tes traîtres yeux,
Brillant à travers leurs larmes.

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.

Des meubles luisants,
Polis par les ans,
Décoreraient notre chambre ;
Les plus rares fleurs [ page ]
Mêlant leurs odeurs
Aux vagues senteurs de l’ambre,
Les riches plafonds,
Les miroirs profonds,
La splendeur orientale,
Tout y parlerait
À l’âme en secret
Sa douce langue natale.

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.

Vois sur ces canaux
Dormir ces vaisseaux
Dont l’humeur est vagabonde ;
C’est pour assouvir
Ton moindre désir
Qu’ils viennent du bout du monde.
— Les soleils couchants
Revêtent les champs,
Les canaux, la ville entière,
D’hyacinthe et d’or ;
Le monde s’endort
Dans une chaude lumière.

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.
Charles Baudelaire

Among the women that inspired Gérald Ghislain to create his feminine scents, Eugenie de Montijo is certainly the least known.

She was born in 1826, in Grenada, Spain (notice that it’s an explosive city for an explosive woman). Raised in Spain by her parents, who were both earls of Montijo, among others.

At least she has a good start in life!

In order to dissipate the mystery Eugénie, let’s do some History. France have always been the theater of Revolutions in the XIXth century. In 1848, the Monarchy restored in 1815 ends, and the Second Republic begins. Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, Napoléon Bonaparte’s nephew,  is elected. However, he disagrees with the Parliament and planned a coup. He succeeded in being choosen as the French Emperor, and became Napoléon III.

But let’s talk again about Eugénie de Montijo.

Her mother knew that Napoléon III was single, and like every single Emperor, he was seeking an Empress… That’s why she took Eugénie with her to the celebrations organised by the young Emperor.

However, Eugénie had competitors, and among them the Queen Victoria’s niece…

Napoléon III, despite the possibilities he had, chose Eugénie!

They got married in January 1853. Couple hours after, the Emperor told to the French representatives that “he married Eugénie because he loved her, not to please someone or to make an alliance”. Isn’t that cute?

Indeed, Eugénie de Montijo, now sacred as French Empress, had lots of qualities.

She was gorgeous, even an aesthetic canon…Men fell for her, and she seemed to like that. She was seductive and passionate, and liked to sublimate herself, wearing finest perfumes and clothes.

She also stood as a feminist: she gave the Legion d’Honneur -a French medal, rewarding those who acted for the Nation’s sake- to Rosa Bonheur, a woman and painter.

Finally, she acted like a true Empress. When she gave birth to the Emperor’s son, she was offered a very expensive diamond collar by the city of  Paris. But she refused the gift, preferring to give it to build an orphanage for moneyless girls.

The perfume created by Gérald Ghislain reflects perfectly her personality. Bergamot and Tangerine as head notes, evocating her mediterranean side. Heart notes: cannel and ginger because she was spicy, white flowers and violette reminding she was an elegant and feminine lady. The base notes eventually show up, revealing incense and amber, particularly relevant because they give a sacred aura to the perfume as if it were an Empress itself.

Patchouli too, simply because Eugénie de Montijo liked its smell…

Dear readers,

I promised some time ago that I’ll tell you about the book Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, from Patrick Süskind. So here we go!

Back in the XVIIIth century, an orphanage shelters a strange baby. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Grenouille means “Frog” in French by the way) isn’t like his mates: in fact, he has no odor at all and no feelings, making no difference between good and evil. Instead, he has a gift: he can discern any smells!

He should be hired by a perfumer, isn’t it? Be patient, it will happen later on!

Grenouille’s lack of odor disturbs other orphans so much that they try to kill him! But he survives. Süskind describes him as a tick, struggling to live. He is on his own… When he became a teenager, he became a tanner apprentice in Paris. He developed his innate sense, smelling around what he could and what he found.

One night, roaming in the streets of Paris, he encountered a teenage red-haired girl. He was astonished by her smell, pure and unique. He intended to catch her smell but killed her accidently… Disappointed, he becomes Baldini’s apprentice, a great perfumer, who teaches him distillation. Since he killed the red-haired girl, Grenouille is obsessed by her smell. He wants to learn how to gather smells to create a perfume, the Perfume.

Grenouille’s thirst for extracting smells from everything is endless. At Baldini’s, he intends to extract even iron or glass smell… That’s why he moves to Grasse, the capital of perfumes: indeed he learned that new smell extraction technical are taught there. These technical were brand new ones at the time: putting things –items, flowers, wood…- in scentless fat. This is called “concrete”.

While he worked in Grasse, Grenouille suddenly smelled something he smelled before… it was like the red-haired girl in Paris, but even more intense. Another red-headed girl, Laure Richis. But Grenouille felt that he wasn’t ready to gather her smells… so he began to gather other red-haired scent! A serial-killer, killing twenty-four red-haired virgins. Once he got them all, using the concrete technical, he killed Laure and made the perfect Perfume. His quest has ended.

But he got caught by the guards of the city and is condemned to death. He poured some of his perfect Perfume in the air, which leads to an orgy! He is pardoned. However, Grenouille realizes he is not loved for what he is but for what he scents, which is artificial.

Disappointed, he comes back to Paris in the place he was born. He pours his Perfume on his head. People all around him see nothing but an attracting light. They eventually rush to the light and eat Grenouille.

I read this novel five years ago. And even today I still wonder what Süskind tried to mean.

Does the quest for perfect beauty consume soul –I mean, is there a sort of dark pact, giving you a gift in exchange of your humanity-? Does Beauty have something to do with good and evil? Once you found what you wanted, what do you become?

But I’m sure about one point: Süskind wanted to make fun of French, meaning that they eat frogs (Grenouille)!

Today I would like to introduce you a seductive, mysterious and smooth plant: the tuberose.

Well, it came from Mexico (by the way, it belongs to the Agavaceae family, and from another agave plant it is extracted the pulp used to make tequila). But it is now mostly cultivated in India. The tuberose fields are very smelly. When the weather is hot, they released a sort of “smelly smog”. Some used to say young ladies had to avoid it because it is aphrodisiac…  Do you see what I mean by “seductive”?

The tuberose concrete is so powerful that perfumers have to use it with caution: perfumes only contain a very small quantity of that flower. It smells white flowers, very smooth white flowers, even milky.

Tubéreuse 1 is called “Capricieuse”, which means she does what she wants. Even the plant itself is capricieuse: it blooms only once a year and above all requires lots of cares…

Here, the seductive side is not hidden, but enhanced by saffron and iris… But Tubéreuse 1 is capricious again on another side : the basenotes only show up couple hours after spraying.

Tubéreuse 2 is the smoothest one, but acts like an obsession… The seductive smell of tuberose is contained inside several scents such as jasmine, tangerine and cherry. You are under the impression to smell the sweetest velvet ever. It’s mesmerazing…it is a double-edged perfume, which is both wise and wild !

Tubéreuse 3 is a particular case, because it is a mixt fragrance. It smells like a vintage perfume… It gives an impression of mystery and an unspeakable scent of fresh tobacco…

You can also detect some smell of immortelle: this plant only grows up on dry strands –mostly on dunes-. It is called immortelle because once picked up; it looks like it is still alive!

Here is an interview of Gérald Ghislain, the creator of Histoires de Parfums. It’s about the Tuberose Trilogy, and I absolutely wanted to share it with you!

Gérald, why did you create the Tuberose trilogy?

Tuberose is the queen of the flowers in perfumery and the hardest to work with. Pure, the smell of tuberose essence is terrible, hard to breath.

When I began my adventure with perfumes and did the training at ISIPCA I smelt for the first time the natural tuberose: I hated the smell!

Two years ago I was working in my laboratory and I smelt by chance essence of tuberose. My response wasn’t the same and I found the scent very interesting: I was more mature and ready to work with this essence…

I read a lot of information about this flower and discovered that it was difficult to tell only one story about this flower because she is so complex. It’s a very complicated queen…that’s why I decided to create this trilogy. I imagined three versions, three interpretations of this flower.

The number one: The CAPRICIOUS

The bulb of tuberose can’t be planted in the same ground years after years because the plant takes out all the minerals from it. It’s a very demanding flower.

The vision I had for this fragrance is the brown side of the bulb and that’s why I added some cocoa and iris in the perfume. The result is a powdery perfume with a little heavy side like the natural tuberose.

The number two: VIRGINAL

During the Renaissance young ladies were forbidden to walk through the gardens at night because the alluring scent of tuberose was an intense aphrodisiac.

This one is a more transparent tuberose, more virginal. I dressed the tuberose with other white flowers like jasmine, frangipani and tiara flowers. The result is a creamy but vaporous perfume.

The number three: ANIMAL

The story tells that women put some fresh tuberose under their dresses to attract men.

Because men were attracted too by this flower I thought about a wild, animal fragrance with some tobacco and dry herbs notes.

Gérald Ghislain, creator of Histoires de Parfums

I know almost every park in Paris: it is not like New-York, where Central Park is the only huge park of the city. Instead, there are about ten medium parks –Tuileries, Jardin des Plantes, Parc des buttes Chaumont…-, and two big parks –Bois de Vincennes, and Bois de Boulogne-. They are all so beautiful, especially in Summer.

The Parc Monceau is located in Paris, XVIIe discrict, near of the Arc de Triomphe. I didn’t visit it for a long time, until a couple of weeks ago. I went to a museum and a picture was about the Parc Monceau. And I said to myself “why not?”, then took the metro and went to the Monceau station.

Once there, I found myself in front of a huge, ancient and luxurious front gate, as if this gate used to keep this park away from citizens, aiming to reserve it to privileged persons. This made me so curious that I immediately crossed the ancient gate. To the left, a wonderful monument inspired from ancient Greek architecture: a cupola supported by several columns.

I kept walking: lots of Parisians lingered in the alleys, but even more sat down on the great grass fields. I will always be astonished by the number of Parisian in the parks during summer time. May be because winter is so cold in Paris that Parisians enjoy so much when it’s sunny! I kept walking again and thought I was dreaming: a pond was just after a small hill, a little island with a willow standing on it. Ancient columns surrounded the place as a ring would embed a jewel.

In art, “Romantic” is the word used to describe a painting, which represents ruins recovered by vegetation. Well, I think this place is the archetype of Romanticism!

I spent hours contemplating the spot. I like Paris mostly thanks to this kind of places: it’s the antithesis of reality. It’s Heaven.

Go downtown when it’s 9 in the morning, when the city is both worker and tourist-free. Walk slowly in a little street, close your eyes, and enjoy the well of light incoming uppon you. Then, let you surround by this warm feeling for a couple of minutes. Finally, taste the joy!

Now, you can have a stress-free day…

La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait.
Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse,
Une femme passa, d’une main fastueuse
Soulevant, balançant le feston et l’ourlet ;

Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue.
Moi, je buvais, crispé comme un extravagant,
Dans son oeil, ciel livide où germe l’ouragan,
La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue.

Un éclair… puis la nuit ! - Fugitive beauté
Dont le regard m’a fait soudainement renaître,
Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l’éternité ?

Ailleurs, bien loin d’ici ! trop tard ! jamais peut-être !
Car j’ignore où tu fuis, tu ne sais où je vais,
Ô toi que j’eusse aimée, ô toi qui le savais !

Une passante

Baudelaire
Les Fleurs du mal, 1857

Here is a poem from Baudelaire, a French poet and Dandy of the XIXth century. He considers that happiness is within the expectation of the beloved woman. It’s kind of weird and paradoxical, to enjoy the expectation. Because it means suffering…But Baudelaire’s awareness of this paradox is unbelievable! I think it is the leitmotiv of most of his poems.

For those who don’t understand French tongue, I’m going to sum up this poem. Baudelaire describes a noisy street where he meets an elegant woman who is just passing by. He is astonished by her beauty and presence. But he suddenly realizes he will never ever see that lady again…

I absolutely wanted to write a post about this poem. Last time I read it was a long time ago. I don’t know why, I remember Baudelaire saying in his poem that the passing lady was perfumed. Yes, I know what you’re thinking: “that guy is nuts”. May be! But think of that. This poem may lack of smells. If I were Baudelaire, I would have walked after the lady and smell her track! Wouldn’t you?

Unfortunately, literature lacks of smells in general. Among Baudelaire’s poems, there are some exceptions, such as Une charogne –I advise you to read it! There are some novels that make an exception. Le Parfum, histoire d’un meurtrier (original title Das Parfum, Die Geschichte eines Mörderà ; or in english Perfume: the Story of a Murderer) from German writer Patrick Süskind, was a blast. I’ll talk about it in a future post!

Dear readers,

Today I want to tell you about a topic which is very personal: my grandfather. He had a very distinctive story…

More than a hundred years ago, my great grand-father used to live in a small town in French Alps: Barcelonette. Lots of inhabitants, him included, decided that they had done with their miserly life. They embarked onto a transatlantic ship toward Mexico, abandoning their previous existence.

Of course they weren’t the first to land on America’s ground. But they were among the only French to leave their mother country toward a better life. That’s why I consider them as very courageous adventurers, even heroes. They are the French father pilgrims!

But let’s resume the story of my grandpa! Once he landed in Mexico, he founded a cloth and accessories itinerant store. He used to roam the country, selling his stuff around. He succeeded in earning money thanks to a small business, while being a total foreigner.

Soon he had a son –I’m sure you guessed he is my grandpa-, and settled down in Mexico downtown. He founded Casa Armand, which will remain famous for many years in Mexico and even beyond.

My grandpa was born in 1922. He was raised in Mexico but he went to study economics in New-York, just when war began for the US; also, he was a boy-scout and was in charge of lots of kids! But I remember one story he told me, which isn’t important, but made me laugh! One evening after the lectures, he took the subway in New-York. He was exhausted and soon felt asleep. He only woke up when the metro was empty and parked! He had to wait until dawn to get out of the train…

Once he finished studying, he came back to Mexico and began to manage Casa Armand. He was such a great manager! I think of him as the ideal entrepreneur: his store flourished, and he perfectly managed his employees by giving them respect.

He travelled a lot for his job. He went to France, Italy and Germany, seeking for the finest cloth, raw materials and accessories. When he tells me about the silk he used to buy in Lyon, France, his eyes still sparkle! Or in Italy, were he could touch the finest wools ever… Then, he imported it to his store. It was sold to fine tailors, who crafted suits, shirts or dresses for the high society of Mexico.

I picture grandpa as an exceptional human being, a modern adventurer, a lover of quality and refinement. When I smell 1828, I’m sure it would have suited him more than perfectly, in a way like any perfume never did: fresh, modern, debonair, and elegant. To me, it is his bespoke fragrance, and became my “device” to think of us.

Today, Casa Armand still exists but is no longer a cloth shop. I don’t know exactly what it became, by the way. But my grandpa’s legacy still exists: I learn from him how to appreciate the finest cloth –I love both perfumes and fine cloth-, and to believe in me.

Thanks for all, grandpa!

Today’s summer day! But, in Paris, it doesn’t really look like summer… 54°f (12°c)… Seriously, I’ve never –ever!- worn a coat in June. Well, I think I’m not a virgin-of-wearing-a-coat-in-June anymore.

Good point is I can wear “winter” perfumes! I’ve missed them a lot…

The truth is I wanted to wear Ambre 114 for a couple of month, but the weather wasn’t cold enough. However today’s the perfect day! It’s perfect to be coated with a warm, eastern, spicy, voluptuous perfume! I’m feeling like I’m breathing incense when I smell Ambre 114, which gives it a sort of sacred aura. Though I’m under the impression I’m travelling among some nomads in Yemen. Because Yemen –mainly Socotra island- is known to be a huge producer of incense since the antiquity. I can’t stop figuring out tales about this fragrance…

Well, I absolutely need to go visit Yemen and Socotra island! I don’t know when, but I’ll do it!

Socotra Island, where incense used to be produced back in the antiquity

Dear readers,

Yesterday I decided to go to the Centre Pompidou, in Paris Downtown, and visit the “Dreamdlands” exhibition. Its weird architecture naturally attracted me: a mix of colored tubes, giving a general impression of both chaos and harmony.

But let’s talk about Dreamlands again! I didn’t know what to expect, but the poster was very appealing to me. Some wanted to be jet pilots. But I wanted to be an architect. That’s why I was fascinated when I first entered the corridors of the exhibition. There were random pictures on the wall as an introduction: it was about a huge fun fair in New-York. But fire destroyed it in the eve of the 20^th century, and was called…Dreamlands. Then, the rest of the exhibition came logically: no need of any explanation. On the walls, there were pictures of Paris Universal Exhibitions in the last century. In the next room, I entered Dali’s mysterious and phantasmagorical universe. Slowly, I started to get it: the exhibition was about Utopia, how did people think it, and how did they give it to birth. In the next rooms, movies about Walt Disney’s EPCOT (Experimental Prototype Community Of Tomorrow), Las Vegas, or Krypton (the city where Superman comes from) were broadcasted. Lot of Art was displayed in the corridors, in order to illustrate the topic. This took me about an hour to visit, which I spent dreaming with people who dreamed about Utopian universes.

By the way, does someone know how Utopia smells like? Any ideas?

According to you, what perfumes can claim to illustrate Utopia? Write me some comments!