Baptiste Lanne, Portrait of a Sculptor

Can you introduce yourself in a few words?

I was born in 1987, and I live and work in a small village in the southwest of France, bordered by a river and facing the Pyrenees. It is a landscape of rugged terrain, shaped by water, forests, and peaks, which is conducive to the artistic practice that I pursue: sculpture.

How would you define your style, your works?

In my approach, wood is carved, scraped, polished, assembled, and stained to elevate the material in order to better forget it. The objective is to transmit my fascination for the attributes of nature and the governing phenomena. Through tangible sculpting, a reality is shaped that surrounds and eludes us simultaneously. Sculpture serves as a means to recalibrate our perception in front of the creative power of life, like an ever-renewing effort to broaden our representations of nature. Ultimately, my hope is that the focus becomes less on sculpting wood and more on materializing a yearning for light in space. May the discussions about my works, as facing multiple mirrors or poems sculpted in organic matter, revolve around our individual journeys, how we have adapted, the obstacles we have faced, and the triumphs we have achieved.

What inspires you? Can you elaborate on when you feel inspired?

I find inspiration in the living organisms and natural forms, be it plants, animals, or minerals. Lately, my sculptural work has been deeply influenced by the forest, pathways, and watercourses. It is during these explorations that I often encounter what I refer to as “vegetal epiphanies” – moments when a fallen piece of wood, for instance, appears to possess a profound message or meaning in my eyes.

What is your creative process?

Back in the workshop, following a period of observation and contemplation, a dialogue emerges with the forest relics. How should I intervene? Which parts to remove or retain? What tools can unveil their inherent beauty? These uncertainties arise, always leading to the question: what stories should be shared?

Do you have any reference artists?

Some noteworthy artists that I admire for their exquisite use of shadow and light as raw materials in their work are Jean Arp, David Nash, Barbara Hepworth, and Pierre Soulage for his paintings. Sculpture is part of a long process.

What is your relationship to time?

The process of plant unfurling in the air is so gradual that it often escapes our visual perception. Trees grow at a pace similar to our breathing, unconcerned with the passage of time. From this perspective, sculpture and plant growth are closely linked. Amidst the fast-paced nature of our society, the longevity inherent in these processes provides me with a sense of stability comfort.

We were deeply moved by your sculpture Echauffure, which we chose to highlight for the launch of our new perfume Cèdre Figalia. Could you please tell us the story behind it ?

Echauffure is a sculpture made from a piece of maple found in a vacant lot. The wood underwent a chemical change due to the presence of a fungus, resulting in a captivating “heated” effect. I saw in the patterns created by this intriguing alchemy an opportunity to sublimate the interaction between two different kingdoms.

What is your relationship with perfume?

The woods that I work with are pieces that I gather from nature. It can sometimes be challenging to detect the essence of a piece of dead wood, especially when it has lost its leaves and fallen to the ground long ago. Identifying the wood through its bark, color, and density is helpful, but I often start by smelling it. Each essence is primarily defined by its scent, the aroma of its sap and tannins. Dominique Roques beautifully describes the fragrance of cedar in her book The Perfume of Forests. “Few trees have marked the imagination of men as intensely as cedar. Its ability to defy time is linked to its richness in resin and aromatic compounds that give it its striking and seductive scent. Lord of the forest, capable of reaching over forty-five meters in height, it reigns over other essences.”

I remain fascinated by the power of scents to revive long-forgotten memories. It feels as if I am transported back to my childhood, time-traveling through the power of fragrance. From mine, I keep the following memories. The fragrant emanations from the painting and sculpture workshop that I frequented as a child, a mixture of oil, turpentine, acrylic, and clay. An interior perfume of orange blossom, slightly heady, contained in a bottle covered in pleated fabric that my mother would occasionally spray in the house. The wintertime aroma of a clove pierced into the peel of an orange for decoration.

Ultimately, the blend of these olfactory memories undoubtedly form the foundation of my current preferences in perfumery — a combination of spiciness and woody elements.

What can we wish you for 2024?

I would like to showcase my work outside of the studio more, exhibit it in new venues, and reach out to a wider audience. Additionally, I am considering a way to transmit the wonders of sculpture and understanding of living beings to children, through classes and possibly by establishing a small art school, maybe starting this autumn. Such a space would serve as a haven for creativity and freedom.

A word in conclusion?

Let us remain attuned to all that remains unspoken.