I’m happy to disappear: Interview with perfumer Olivia Giacobetti
Interviews

Passage d’Enfer Extrême, the latest perfume released by L’Artisan Parfumeur and a great sequel to the brilliant Passage d’Enfer of 1999, brought back the longing for its author’s new creations, rare to come by in present days. We talked to Olivia Giacobetti, whose elegant work defined the tastes of many perfume lovers, about her newest fragrance, her reputed elusiveness, and the remedies for the harshness of our time.

Ksenia: Many people would say the classic Passage d’Enfer is beautiful, some would go as far as calling it a perfect frankincense scent. What was the idea behind the version released in 1999?

Olivia: Frankincense is one of those smells that come from the dawn of time and belong to our cultural heritage. Its smell has always fascinated me, both clear and deep, vegetal and mineral. The words that guided me to build that perfume were: а white, fluid, subtle, intimate, delicate incense, a soft warmth, a floating impression, a white protective veil, a feeling of nostalgia... When creating Passage d’Enfer, it was obvious that the perfume in question would disregard the rules agreed upon for constructing a feminine or a masculine scent. Its theme, in essence, had to transcend borders, it had to dance somewhere in between. But for my part, I have never taken this division into account in my creations. I’d do a woody perfume for a woman and a floral one for a boy, whatever. Ambiguity only makes a perfume more elegant and mysterious.

K: Working on the Extrême version, how did you feel about altering something that already is so beautiful and accomplished?

O: I didn't really want to touch the balance of Passage d’Enfer, only to bring it even more presence. The main accord is identical in the new version, but it has more depth, more force. Each note is underlined, the white flowers are more drawn, the woods are denser, the incense is warmer. The melody is the same, but, not unlike music, it is played with more instruments.

K: Speaking of balance and presence, how do you feel about the direction the modern perfumery has taken, with the tendency to favour the volume, strength, and loudness — regardless of the theme?

O: The theme itself should dictate the volume and the power. We tend to want to turn up the sound at all costs, but it's not the noise that makes the music, it's the melody. Today, we are only looking for strength — it has become a concept, no matter what the lyrics are, perfumers play with the same ultra-diffusing molecules and everything ends up smelling the same. Some perfumes have to play hard to express themselves, others, on the contrary, act as a veil, like a second skin, and are expressed delicately, with subtlety and slowness. It seems to me that gentleness and delicacy can be a safeguard against the harshness and violence of our time.

K: This is what your own style is often described as by perfume writers — gentle, delicate, watercolour. Would you say it really is your trademark?

O: My style — I am not really aware of it, but my approach is free, emotional, and poetic. I love expressive fragrances, fragrances that tell a story. I am inspired by what touches me and what troubles me, by fundamental smells, those with a deeper meaning — water, woods, or sacred odours that are part of our olfactory heritage. I’m fond of ideas that are strong but expressed in a delicate way, a bit like a black and white picture. My work feeds on little hidden elements, on the invisible. Like a freeze-frame, I try to capture a moment or an image, to retain a fleeting impression. Above all, I'm looking for simplicity, and the more I go forward, the more I simplify my formulas to keep what’s essential. It seems to me that the more precise the chord, the more expressive it is.

K: It’s interesting that you should mention freeze frames. Many readers, when asked what they think Olivia Giacobetti’s superpower is, say it’s how your perfumes feel like freeze frames from their own childhoods, how they transport them into some very specific memories of their own. It’s amazing — the way you make perfumes that feel so personal to so many people. Private and universal at the same time.

O: The biggest mistake you can make when creating something is trying to please. It gets even worse if we try to find a common denominator to please everyone — we slip into banality, we smooth out everything to keep only the universal codes. I align my creations with my own desires, and the more personal a perfume becomes, the more I am surprised that it finds its audience. When it works like that, it’s a real pleasure.

K: What is your strongest scent-related memory from your childhood?

O: I have lots of them. Thanks to the olfactory memories, I can follow the thread way back into the past. It’s like a puzzle — there’s an image, an object, or a sensation hiding behind each and every smell. My oldest and most intimate memory is definitely the teddy bear from my childhood, I only have to think about it to feel its sweet smell of wool and straw. At the age of nine, I discovered the world of perfume thanks to Le Sauvage, a movie by Jean-Paul Rappeneau. It was Annick Goutal who opened the doors to that world for me, and I joined Robertet as an assistant perfumer when I was seventeen. Back then I was still a child, but I discovered a whole new world, both scientific and poetic, sensitive and instinctive. Perfume came into my life as a matter of course, and I knew from day one that perfumery would become my violin. Those years at Robertet were the fulfillment of my dream of becoming a perfumer.

K: And the fig, also a childhood memory? There’s something very honest and private about your Premier Figuier — the first fig perfume ever made — though it’s been loved and worn by many.

O: Yes, the fig tree is quite simply the tree of my childhood. The one in the garden of our holiday home was so large its scent devoured everything else. Twenty years later, when I made Premier Figuier for L’Artisan Parfumeur, I wanted to rediscover the sensation of this green and milky scent that envelops everything. Honestly, I created something very personal without imagining it would bring so much pleasure to so many people. L’Artisan Parfumeur was built with the freedom to explore new themes, with no constraints of having to follow fashions. Back then, the fragrances weren’t created to meet the demand of the market, and many very unique fragrances have emerged without going through the strainer of consumer tests, starting with Mûre & Musc, Voleur de Roses, then Premier Figuier, Passage d’Enfer, Bois Farine... The result is a range of fragrances that are timeless.

K: What about the other brands and fragrances? Is there a perfume you wish you made, one that you smell and think, ‘Oh but this is something I could — and should — have created!’

O: There are so many. All perfumers would love to have created some great fragrances that they love. Personally, I remember falling in love with Serge Lutens' Féminité du Bois. It was a long time ago, and it felt completely new to me but also familiar, timeless, indispensable. Beautiful on both men and women.

K: Do you often get touched by modern fragrances? Can you remember the last time you felt a scent really resonated with you?

O: Many great perfumes don’t correspond to my universe, but I still find them very interesting. This is the case of Angel, for example. For 20 years, sugar has been everywhere, that perfume really marked its time and so many fragrances have been inspired by it!

K: What, in your opinion, makes a good fragrance, and what makes a great one?

O: A good perfume is defined by its technical and aesthetic value, but a great one, on top of that, has a very strong idea that responds to an unconscious collective desire.

K: Are there any scents you’re especially attracted to — in nature, in your immediate surroundings?

O: I like working with wood, all kinds of it. There is something fundamental about the smell of wood — a strength, something truly sacred. It’s a material loaded with memory. I find it hard to imagine a fragrance without any wood in it. I often use it as the main theme, or else only as a trompe l'oeil, but it’s always present in my work. For Passage D'Enfer, wood is essential — white cedar and sandalwood provide its structure, a backbone, it’s the woods that frankincense and white flowers wrap themselves around. That being said, nature is an inexhaustible source of inspiration, but ideas also come from many other sources, intimate and nostalgic — they are the smells of life, those of childhood or travel. In order not to forget anything, I write down my impressions and I keep everything I find — pieces of wood, leaves, minerals that I bring from all over the world. I am also very influenced by the work of certain artists, in fields that have nothing to do with the world of perfume.

K: Is there a particular work of art, a movie, a painting or a piece of music, you’d like to turn into a fragrance?

O: The Piano film by Jane Campion. And The Weather project by the artist Olafur Eliasson.

K: You say your perfumes are built around the emotional connection to things you’ve personally experienced or felt at a moment of time. What happens if you’re given a brief you feel you can’t relate to, something you don’t feel mentally involved in? Have you ever rejected a project for that specific reason?

O: I like to do everything when there is an idea — sometimes it is very stimulating to get away from your own world, to play against nature and dive into a new story. Actually, it is the lack of ideas that makes me run away and refuse a project.

K: Today you seem to be picking your projects very carefully, working at your own pace that’s very different from the heart rate the modern perfumery is used to. Is it the lack of good ideas from the brands, or the new raw material regulations, or some other reason you don’t do as many perfumes as you used to do before?

O: I make as many perfumes as before, but my name is not always mentioned. Some brands want to put the name of the perfumer forward at all costs, others, on the contrary, prefer to keep it quiet. This is the case with the recent perfumes I have made. Personally, I’m very happy to disappear behind another creator — it’s the game of this shadow profession.