Un pâtissier, un artiste: a collab
Gault&Millau begins a series of "sweet" cross-portraits to share the behind-the-scenes story of two creative partners. Far from being commissioned, these collaborations are born of conversation, dialogue and free exchange. First meeting: Pierre Hermé, pastry chef, and Octave Marsal, artist, who together imagined a Christmas collection.
Beyond all the collaborations that are flourishing today, Pierre Hermé is one of the pioneers. He has always cultivated audacity and difference, with pleasure as his only guide. He doesn't just interpret existing recipes, but also creates new ones. Three pillars define his style: the creation of seasonal collections, the exploration of flavors and the introduction of an aestheticism that breaks with traditional pastry-making.
An original approach to the craft that led him, from the 1990s onwards, to invite art into his own universe. His imagination is nourished by encounters. The artisan and the artist become one. Pierre Hermé imposes nothing, but offers the artist a unique setting for expression.
Gault&Millau: How did the idea for your first collaboration come about?
Pierre Hermé: It goes back to the late 1980s, when I asked Philippe Starck to design a sculpture for the Salon de la Gastronomie in Colmar, a challenge made of sugar and chocolate, the result of which turned out to be mediocre. Far from being discouraged, I became interested in art and design. Then I started looking for a stylist who could design a cake that would break away from the usual shapes. It was with Yan Pennor's, in 1993, that we imagined the "Cerise sur le Gâteau", which will celebrate its 30th anniversary in 2023. I already had in mind the tastes, the milk chocolate, the hazelnuts, the sensation of freshness. He designed this pastry, at once very different and very similar to a slice of cake.
Octave Marsal: My very first contribution was with the Royal College of Music in London, where I was lucky enough to do a synchronized performance with the prestigious school's baroque orchestra on a Bach concerto for two violins. It's quite incredible to be able to marry two very distinct arts with such precision. From that moment on, I understood the richness of collaborations.
G&M: What's so special about these encounters?
P. H.: I work with artists from a wide variety of backgrounds: sculptors, photographers, designers, draughtsmen, architects, writers... Each collaboration is different. From the conversations we have together, each creator brings his or her own vision, the original, unique character of his or her creations.
O. M.: Being able to marry two worlds brings great rigor and ideas that wouldn't otherwise have arisen. There's a mutual enrichment, and it professionalizes our work as artists. Generally speaking, it all starts with a very open discussion, with everyone contributing their DNA and know-how.
G&M: How do you choose each other?
P. H.: There are no rules. Meetings are sometimes fortuitous, sometimes deliberate, sometimes unexpected. This allows the exchange to flow freely. Since the early 1990s, I've worked with a host of artists, whether on store decoration, books or tableware. I've also drawn inspiration from the creations of deceased artists such as François Pompon, always in consultation with their families. These encounters are infinitely rich.
O. M.: I like to explore new playgrounds. I've been working with Hermès for some time now, but also with Bob Marley's family. As for Pierre Hermé, I was seduced by his collection with Philippe Baudelocque. That's how I got in touch with him. When I discovered that he drew his pastries, it took me back to the work of Christian Dior, a time when drawing played a much more important role than it does today. Pierre Hermé thinks of his creations like an architect. The art is still quite elitist, but his work speaks to everyone. My drawing had to follow this direction.
G&M: Collaboration, freedom or constraint?
P. H.: It's all about freedom. You have to succeed in abolishing constraints, and that's acquired through exchange and dialogue. Everyone contributes their know-how to create something common. Octave had already done some drawings of Paris, but I wanted something different, a sublimated, dreamlike Paris, where you could see the City of Light in a single glance.
O. M. : The constraint is the one you want to put on yourself, generally before starting a project. After my conversations with Pierre Hermé, I produced a first drawing which was rejected, because I had given too dark a vision. So I reinterpreted Pierre Hermé's idea of finding the Parisian monuments through a drawing that could be read in all directions. The freedom was total - I had this Paris of my dreams.
G&M: Do these collaborations have an impact on your respective creations?
P. H.: Artists rarely influence my taste. It only happened once, when I worked with my friend Jean-Michel Duriez. His profession as a perfumer led us to converse about flavors, and out of this came a book, then a multitude of creations, such as the "Macaron Jardin Œillet", for which I recomposed my vision of the flower. When combined with other disciplines, patisserie takes on a whole new dimension.
O. M.: Pierre Hermé brought me even more rigor. I was surprised by his knowledge and artistic culture. Each of us, with our own sources - for my part, eighteenth-century engraving, with Piranèse, or Dürer - succeeded in finding the right analogy between the drawing and his creations. There are many similarities between drawing and haute pâtisserie. Each of us, in our own way, takes up the past to recreate the present.
G&M: Are there any impossible collaborations?
P. H.: I've never been confronted with that. I'm convinced that there are no rules. Most of the time, encounters are unexpected. The exchange, the dialogue, allows us to build on what comes next.
O. M.: The more unlikely a collaboration seems, the more interesting it is! The best encounters are often the most surprising. The one with Pierre Hermé was one of those. It will remain engraved in my memory. It's the only collaboration I'll ever do with a pastry chef. I take great pride in this negative drawing and its color treatment on the boxes. In the same way, the "Tout-Paris" log is not a representation of my design; it symbolizes the alliance between our two worlds. Pierre Hermé has made it possible for architecture to become a log, and cutting a Haussmann log is very powerful in my eyes.
The other Pierre Hermé news, his biography: Pierre Hermé, toutes les saveurs de la vie. L'Odyssée d'un pâtissier de génie, published by Buchet-Chastel, 2022.
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