Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Gaucho’s Journey: The Spark of Two Flintstones



The creation of every one of my perfumes is signified by a succession of events that typically evolves as follows: a spark of inspiration lights a fire that feeds itself - an unexplained desire and longing, which in my case grows stronger and stronger the further I am away from reaching it. It is best defined as an obsession. And as most obsessions do, they are followed by a compulsive behaviour that is designed to settle that obsessive thought and bring it to peace and resolution.

Gaucho started with Steely Dan’s album of that name. I will let you on one secret: if there is any band I would seriously consider acting like a groupie around (well, I don’t think I would waste my time considering if I would ever meet them in person…) it’s Steely Dan. And it has very little to do with how the two musicians that form that band look (both are certainly not what you would typically refer to as good looking). There is something oddly powerful and particularly mysterious about their music. And lyrics. Which leave a lot to the imagination and therefore are both seductive and personable.

But let’s get back to Gaucho and why it stirred a perfume inside me. It is not particularly the theme song, but rather the general mood of that album that to me is the epitome of that distant/internally charged mood, and somehow the songs are all connected to each other. Most of the songs in Gaucho create an atmosphere of emotional distance that is disturbingly heart aching, as if you are watching a film, only that this film is about yourself.

The other part of the inspiration was that of smoky woods from South America. Namely Guiacwood, though this is not the only unusual South American wood I had in mind. The smoky, honeyed waxy rosiness made me want to create a perfume that smells different, and will evoke the proud loneliness of a gaucho in the middle of the deserted grasslands, surrounded only by animals and a vast silence not to be disturbed by a word but only the sounds of whispering grass, small explosions of branches caught on fire, the cries of animals...

There an than, between those two flintstones - the urban sound of Steely Dan and the woody essences from South America - flew the spark that started the search for my Gaucho perfume…

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