I'm standing in a hotel complex in Mallorca that we're currently helping to design. Natural stone, Corten steel, those distinctive wooden gates – everything is carefully considered. The architecture works, the details are right, the atmosphere is beginning to take shape.
But with a hotel, it's about more than what meets the eye.
It's also about the nose. Our sense of smell perceives just as much as our sight – and often more lastingly. That's why there's a fine, almost creamy hint of warmth in the air here. No perfume, no staging. Simply: star jasmine.
Trachelospermum jasminoides is commonly called "star jasmine," even though botanically it doesn't belong to the true jasmine family at all. A common mistake – but a forgivable one. Because its impact is every bit as powerful as the original.
The star-shaped white flowers open in late spring and accompany us with their delicate fragrance through the first weeks of summer. A gentle, connecting presence – unobtrusive, but unmistakable.
It was just pruned back – now it's taking off. I love this phase: when the new growth is fresh, the first buds appear, and the fragrance slowly spreads across the courtyard like a promise.
Star jasmine is one of those plants that almost always works. Evergreen, glossy, dense foliage, climbing – or ground-covering if you let it. It loves sun, tolerates drought and wind.
I see it everywhere: in courtyards, on rooftops, in Mediterranean patios, on trellises, on the facades of hotels and residential buildings.
In Germany's wine-growing regions it thrives well, in sheltered locations even planted out year-round. In England it grows against south-facing walls, in Italy naturally on every corner – and in Mallorca it performs excellently, of course.
In my own lean-to greenhouse it blooms all summer long. When I open the door in the morning, I know: it's going to be a good day.
What's special is that moment when you enter a place – and the air already tells a story. You can't buy that. You can only plant it.
Star jasmine isn't loud, isn't demanding. It doesn't call out "Look at me!" – it simply lingers in your nose.
And that's exactly what our work is about: creating atmospheres that work, even when you don't immediately know why.
Anyone who has walked through a courtyard with blooming Trachelospermum in the evening will always remember it.
Once you've experienced it, you never forget it. And that's exactly what makes the difference.