A comment in a recent article by Andrew Jefford caught my eye: a quote from French winemaker Olivier Jullien of Mas Jullien, “There’s a star in the sky,” he says, “and there’s a line, a wire which extends from you towards that star. All work is a reaching out along that wire, towards that star, that ideal.” I’m afraid my first thought after such lyricism was to ponder just how unlikely one was to hear things expressed in such a manner in a New Zealand winery. With a few notable exceptions, poetry tends not to reside much in the mouths of New Zealanders.
Of course I am making generalisations here, as I’m sure we can both think of a few more esoterically-minded oenologists in this country but the fact they stand out as they do speaks volumes. The more prosaic, Number 8 wire mentality tends to be the norm and of course, this is duly reflected in our wines.
Now I appreciate this is hardly a blinding revelation, but it seems interesting to me that when we talk about the differences in wines, particularly the difference between various countries’ wines, that we frequently refer only to the weighting of terroir versus technology as being what generates these differences (again, more generalisations here…) and with the Old World expected to favour the former and the New World the latter. This in itself is curious, as any quality Old World region these days is as high tech as they come, and there is plenty of distinctly expressed-and-expressive New World terroir. But, my point is we seem seldom to take account of the prevailing culture of the country or region of origin, and yet surely this is as much as a factor as how much stainless steel, oxygen or dry farming is involved?
I recently happened to have open a 2002 Pagodes de Cos (Saint-Estèphe, Bordeaux) and 2006 Far Niente Oakville Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa, California) – both high quality wines which are terroir-expressive and undoubtedly whose winemakers are availed of all latest technology. And yet it was impossible not to see that the cultural differences between the two regions/countries were as evident in the wine as any climate, clone or soil influence. They were both reflections of their prevailing cultural worlds: the Cos restrained, subtle, elegant; the Far Niente bold, opulent and glossy. Both were delicious.
France is the spiritual home of great art and literature, renowned for its sensual appreciation of food and fashion as well as wine. America is the capitalist centre of the universe, favouring the brave and the bold. New Zealand is a country that values common sense, a fair go, the great outdoors, sport and straight talking. Art, music, poetry, literature are celebrated up to a point but are not dominant features of our cultural landscape. Indeed, it is fair to say that, outside of nature, the appreciation of beauty for its own sake is regarded as a faintly suspicious and perhaps even slightly effeminate pursuit. I think this is reflected in our wines. This is not a statement of cultural cringe, but merely consideration of another lens through which to view them. Though I can’t help but think that our finest wines will be created when our winemakers are as free and happy to talk (and think) like M. Jullien, should they be so inclined.
(EJ)