Modular bag device to capture scent. Photo by Jim Martinez.

The first call came into the Chihuahuan Desert Research Institute (CDRI) to ask about desert plants that a scent company, Givaudan, out of New York, was interested in for collection. Could they help? The CDRI suggested Marfa resident, Jim Martinez, co-author of Marfa Garden: The Wonders of Dry Desert Plants and president of their board, to be the field guide and plant expert they needed to lead them to specific spots in the region to collect the scents of flowering plants they were after. Martinez, widely recognized and appreciated for his willingness to share his knowledge of all manner of desert plants, their application in all sorts of uses and occasional dilemmas, was up for the task.

So how exactly does this work? Of course we are flattered that fancy perfumers are drawn to our desert and the plants we love. However, we are also protective and concerned about conservation. Turns out their collection team doesn’t take a plant, a cutting or a flower, they only take the scent via a glass or plastic globe positioned over the blossom, an aluminum capsule that captures the scent inside the globe, and a couple hours for the transfer of molecules to be a great enough concentration. 

All the capsules are then collected, stored in a cooler, and ready for transport. For all the distance and varied forms each particular scent will take in the future, the transformation in the lab to a synthetic duplication and myriad options for new applications, the beginning is quite passive and respectful. No major machines or contraptions, just a couple people setting up the closed canopy and some time. Once the team is out here it does take knowing exactly where to look, when specific plants are in bloom, covering rough terrain on foot, and patient guidance, all of which Martinez provided.

The company originally planned to visit when basically nothing was in bloom. Martinez was able to educate them about the flowering season and convince them to reschedule their trek when they would be more successful, and they did.

They began at CDRI, where the essence of Damianita leaf and rose-fruited juniper berry were captured. Then they traveled along the river road to Big Bend State Park for the bulk of the collection. It’s very cool to think of ocotillo, desert acacia, Spanish dagger yucca and rock nettle scents to be elements included in the world of perfumes and scents traveling far beyond the Big Bend. The team was able to capture about 28 scents on this trip.

This particular company had not previously combed this desert for scents, but a French-Swiss physician, Jean-Louis Berlandier, collected plants in Northern Mexico and Texas in the early 1800s. The chocolate daisy, the true road warrior of wildflowers which perfumes my walks on Pinto Canyon Road from earliest spring to a hard freeze, got its genus name, Berlandiera, from this early collector. Givaudan captured the scent of chocolate daisy on this trip to share with the wider world.

Givaudan, begun in Switzerland, now employs 80,000 people worldwide and is no rookie endeavor. Not only do they use the scents they collect for traditional perfumes, their synthetic reproductions are part of all the scented products that surround us in daily life, plus they produce scents for food, like maybe those jalapeno and lime chips on grocery shelves. They even make a scent called “Unscented” for products preferred by people sensitive to perfumes. Their corporate motto, “We touch your life everyday,” gives one an idea of how far reaching our everyday desert scents might travel to come back to us in new and surprising ways.

Givaudan made a booklet titled “High Desert” of some of the scents they collected out here with a sample of the original plant scent on the left-hand page and then the finished product perfume created scent on the right. These perfumers obviously have very highly trained olfactory senses as they describe some of the fragrance notes in both the before scent and the after scent, and perhaps interned at J. Peterman catalogue for descriptive, flowery language. For example Texas bluebonnet: “[F]ragrance offering a captivating experience. It carries a sweet scent reminiscent of heliotrope: creamy, vanilla and slightly spicy. I found it grounding and uplifting,” quoting the perfumer Dana Schmitt. 

On the right-hand page across from the original scent, the finished product “Cowgirl Blues” by perfumer Caroline Sabas explains, “Every cowgirl gets the blues, but she knows how to two-step through them. Bask in the hazy veil of Bluebonnet floralcy energized with the vibrant energy of citrus, cucumber, and airy aldehydes that evoke a sense of lightness and freedom. Hang your hat on the comforting base of tonka bean, creamy vanilla, and soft musk — a lingering warmth that mirrors the fading light of a Texas sunset. Cowgirl Blues captures the spirit of the West – sweet, spirited, and a little bit sassy.”

How they characterize this particular scent in their booklet for prospective clients: 

With opening notes of…

Bitter Orange
Grapefruit
Cucumber
Aldehydes (a class of organic compounds that add unique and transformative facets to fragrances)

Heart:
Texas Bluebonnet Scent
Acacia
Linden Blossom

Base:
Tonka
Vanilla
Musk

There is nothing haphazard in their approach, and there is a very serious execution of the final product for presentation to their clients from every industry and part of the world. Givaudan constructed a reproduction of the desert and the plants with the scents under glass domes in their New York City offices. Martinez was able to visit and see the hard work of the team transformed and presented for their clients in need of flavors and perfumes.

To my utter surprise, in spite of my sensitivity and jadedness about perfumes, I enjoyed the experience of familiar scents transformed into their more complex laboratory-produced selves. Piñon pine with notes of lemon meringue transformed into the perfume “Meringue Mirage,” Spanish dagger yuccas became perfume “Dagger and Dreams.” In no time, the original scents and the perfumes created from these desert flowers start to smell somewhat the same, which I blame on their close proximity in the little booklet and my untrained and overwhelmed nose, and yet I was impressed by their thorough consideration of the collection. 

I most appreciate that Givaudan reached out to local resources before arrival, took advantage of Martinez’s expertise, and nature was in no way disturbed –– plundered, yes, but yet left untouched. Permission was asked and granted before collecting in Big Bend Ranch State Park, and they were quickly and quietly here and gone, the best sort of curious guests. Our desert scents may be taken on a wild new adventure and use beyond providing for our animals, birds and insects –– an unexpected exposure for this valuable resource, and perhaps a wider audience for these much beloved flowers.