Go into any winery in the world, and it’s now unusual not to find a glass wine globe or clay amphora lurking in the corner. Oak has long been the traditional ageing vessel for wine – light, easily transportable, the grain fine enough to allow micro-oxygenation (aiding the polymerisation of tannins, making the wine more supple), and, especially when new, the ability to add toasty, spicy complexity. But with technology and global warming, many winemakers are looking beyond oak – and Jean-Marie Fourrier is one of them.  “We noticed the barrels generating the most problems were new oak,” says Fourrier. He and his team had been monitoring each barrel during élevage, and started noticing a trend. They observed that the volatile acidity was 0.2-0.3% higher in first-fill barrels. To compensate for the higher volatility, Fourrier had to add more sulphur to those barrels, something that he’d like to avoid – feeling that higher sulphur additions can mask the terroir.  But why were the new barrels the most volatile? With climate change, trees – Fourrier argues – are growing more quickly, meaning that their trunks don’t have the same density, and this is responsible for the increased volatility. He’s not alone in paying attention to the density of wood; it’s something that Clos de Sarpe has started monitoring, weighing each barrel and noting how this impacts the wine during élevage. Fourrier also feels that climate change has impacted cork, as he told me in 2021 – noting how cork is harvested every seven to eight years versus the 20 of yesteryear. The corks are less dense and this leads to higher oxygen transfer – it’s one reason that he chooses to wax his wines (instead of metal capsules), to help counter the quality of the cork itself, something that Olivier Lamy also believes is important.  With the extremes of climate change, the size of harvests varies more significantly than ever before – from the lows of 2021 to the highs of 2023. The pHs of wines are higher, making winemaking all the more tricky – a more challenging environment for yeast and higher risks of bacterial spoilage. Producers need to handle their wines more carefully, as well as juggle the vessels required for such extreme yield variations. If barrels are left empty, they become a breeding ground for bacteria, especially brettanomyces – so having the right number of vessels for your wine each year is essential, not to mention retaining a balance of new and old wood, to keep both a consistent style and not over- or under-oak the wines. (Some producers also only keep barrels for a certain number of years, again to avoid bacterial spoilage.)  “How can I age wine, keeping freshness, keeping purity?” says Fourrier, “Is 100% oak the direction? I don’t think so, to be honest, I think it’s a balance.” There were two options for him: either increase the level of sulphur additions, purely for the “ideology of wood” – or to evolve.  For him, using amphorae and stainless steel barrels alleviates some of these pressures – offering lower volatility, almost no bacterial risks and the vessels can be stored empty and more easily cleaned, not to mention they don’t need replacing. While he notes he is not about to release a “Cuvée Amphora”, ageing 20% of his wines in these alternatives allows for lower volatility, lower total sulphites and, in his view, helps give the wines freshness, complexity and a sense of place.   The 2022 vintage is the latest to bring these challenges to the fore; a return to a year born of global warming after the tricky, cool 2021. While for once they escaped the threat of frost, conditions were hot – although, unlike in 2019 or 2020, they received enough water to allow for a more plentiful crop. Gevrey-Chambertin saw a massive storm in June, bringing with it 100mm of rain in just an hour or so, flooding the streets of the village. Although it seemed devastating at the time, it was exactly what the vines needed to survive the dry stretch to the end of August and harvest at the start of September.  Although harvest dates creep earlier and earlier, Fourrier feels that some are picking prematurely (“We don’t do a Crémant,” he jokes). “Terroir needs to be revealed by phenolic maturity,” he explains, saying that his team started in early September. With the warmth of the year, he used around 15-20% whole-bunch to help retain freshness and elegance, and, as we’ve seen elsewhere so far, the alcohols are modest – sitting between 12.8 and 13.5%. The wines combine some of the characteristics of 2009 and 2015, Fourrier feels, yet are fresher, with an approachability that – as we have found – will make them easy to drink in their youth, despite having the structure and weight to age.  But now Fourrier’s mind is occupied by the 2023s, the wines just in the cellar – absorbed by the potential of the next vintage. It's this slow and constant evolution, the change and challenges, year in, year out, that keep him interested. With only one shot every 12 months, this business is, he says, “an internship of 40 years”. And it’s that approach – a modesty in the face of everything despite his reputation, constantly pushing forward, studying everything and never complacent – that makes Fourrier one of the region’s leading names. We’ve no doubt that his 2022s will be another display of his mastery.  Browse all current listings from Jean-Marie Fourrier and Domaine Fourrier, or read more about Burgundy 2022

The 2022 vintage in Burgundy is a year of the modern era – one born of today’s shifting climate. As the first of his wines from the year are released, Sophie Thorpe spoke to Jean-Marie Fourrier about how he’s managing global warming in the cellar – and what he thinks of 2022

We talk to iconic Burgundian winemaker Jean-Marie Fourrier about how to handle climate change in the cellar – and what he thinks of the 2022 vintage

Jean-Marie Fourrier – student and master

Student and master: Jean-Marie Fourrier

One hundred years ago, two men, inspired by the Scottish distilling tradition, produced the first Japanese whisky. In the years that have followed, the category’s fortunes – much like its founders’ relationship – have been turbulent.    The story begins in 1923 when pharmaceutical wholesaler turned Spanish wine importer Shinjiro Torii invested his family fortune in building the Yamazaki distillery, against their advice. Torii enlisted the help of wet-behind-the-ears chemist Masataka Taketsuru – who had spent time learning his craft in Scotland – to lead production on their first whisky, Suntory Shirofuda, which was released in 1929. The two men did not see eye to eye and parted ways following the dismal reception of Shirofuda. Taketsuru famously went on to found the other great Japanese whisky producer, Nikka, and their fierce rivalry persisted. This is one of the reasons Japanese distilleries, to this day, blend in-house rather than trade liquid. Despite this rocky start, the Japanese domestic whisky market looked bullish by the late 1930s – Yamazaki’s next whisky (Suntory Kakubin, released in 1937) was more warmly received and Taketsuru successfully re-entered the scene with his first whisky, Nikka Yoichi, in 1940.  Fast forward to the early 1980s and the category was in fine fettle – Suntory and Nikka had both released their first single malt expressions and there was plenty of cause for optimism. But this prosperity sadly did not last as a steep decline in consumption caused the Japanese whisky market to splutter and almost entirely stall, resulting in many distilleries, including Karuizawa, being forced to close their doors. Both Yamazaki and Nikka managed to stay afloat but their output was significantly reduced as the economy and category stagnated, marking a bleak 25-year chapter in Japanese whisky’s history.   When demand was reignited around the mid-to-late 2000s, it largely came from Europe. A perfect storm caused this spike in interest, including wider interest in Japan (think Bill Murray in Lost in Translation), the resurgence of the Highball cocktail (circa 2007) and Suntory’s Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Cask 2013 being named the world’s best in 2014 – a first for the category. Around this time, the world was also introduced to Ichiro Akuto’s highly collectable Card Series and the lost distilling icon, Karuizawa. “The mad scramble for crumbs on the Japanese whisky scene is something nobody could have predicted,” acclaimed Japanese whisky writer and Ghost Series independent bottler Stefan Van Eycken tells me. “In the space of 10 years, the situation went from being able to buy a whole range of single-cask Japanese whiskies at a big electronics chain for peanuts to bottles not even reaching the shelves of liquor stores anymore. “Even I, who had been exploring the Japanese whisky scene in the ‘dark ages’, couldn’t have predicted that,” he says matter-of-factly. “If I could have, I would have rented a van, bought up all the bottlings that were available for purchase and I could have retired by now.” Yumi Yoshikawa joined the team at Chichibu in 2013 after a two-year stint in Scotland, first working in the Highlander Inn in Craigellachie – which will require little introduction for spirits journalists or enthusiasts – and at the Bruichladdich Distillery on Islay. “People didn’t know the value of aged [Japanese] whisky back then,” Yoshikawa tells me. “Or that Japan had a long whisky history,” she adds. Somebody who was instrumental in educating the world on these two points is Marcin Miller, a man whose fortitude dragged Karuizawa out of obscurity. The genteel and thoroughly entertaining former Whisky Magazine Editor turned drinks entrepreneur, recalls the landscape when he and business partner David Croll first tasted those fateful Karuizawa single casks in the early 2000s.  “The most common complaint [from whisky enthusiasts] at the time would seem to be that it's all very well for me tasting this stuff but we never get to see any where we are in Western Europe or Northern America,” he recalls. So the two men set about changing this by buying the remaining stock from the then-lost Karuizawa, bottling it, and making it available to the masses – with resounding success. It’s a gross misapprehension – held by many – that the duo meandered into a meeting room, tasted a parcel of Karuizawa, bought it on the spot, and bottled it shortly after, grinning like Cheshire cats as the coffers swelled. In truth, it was four and a half years of negotiation and countless sleepless nights during the process. When pallets of casks from the ghost distillery in a nascent whisky market were finally shipped to them, there was no guarantee the wider whisky world would be interested. “Whatever anyone says, it really was not easy…” He trails off, transported to that time, and all the challenges the pair transversed when bringing the mature Japanese whisky from a then-unknown producer to its now almost mythic status.  Miller talks of the “extraordinary, phenomenal effect” Karuizawa had on him. Croll, Miller and acclaimed drinks writer Dave Broom – who has since quite literally written the book on Japanese whisky – initially tasted 69 single-cask Karuizawa samples. “I would have bottled any of those casks,” Miller says, a fond smile warming his face. If it hadn’t been for Croll, who had lived in Japan for 30 years and owned a successful drinks business, Miller says they likely never would have got a foot in the door at Karuizawa – or secured the exclusive distribution rights of the much-lauded Chichibu and Hanyu. “I dare say Karuizawa would have been blended away into big plastic five-litre tubs of supermarket whisky,” Miller says reticently. When Van Eycken moved to Japan around the same time as Miller and Co were negotiating the Karuizawa deal, he hadn’t even realised whisky was being produced there. Japanese whisky consumption and production were at an all-time low and the general feeling, he says, was that the whisky made in Japan was “cheap and good for getting a buzz when going out, but that the good stuff – that you would savour – was Scotch, and Bourbon, to a lesser extent”. The intrepid Van Eycken was taken aback by the quality of the long-aged liquids he sampled on his travels and couldn’t understand why this sentiment wasn’t shared domestically or further afield. When Japanese whisky’s popularity did finally begin to soar, he was perfectly placed to fill the knowledge chasm with his widely acclaimed Nonjatta website and, later, his seminal work Whisky Rising – a fully updated second edition of which came out earlier this year.  “When I wrote the original edition in 2016, there were 14 active distilleries in Japan,” he says. “Fast forward to mid-2022 and there were 41 active distilleries (and even more in the progress of getting ready to distil),” Van Eycken tells me. All of the new distilleries, he says, are attempting to follow the so-called “craft model” with a single pair of pot stills and fairly limited production. The inspiration, of course, being Ichiro Akuto and his incredible accomplishments over the past 15 years at Chichibu. “But not everyone can be an Ichiro – though most new distillers are certainly hoping to be equally successful, if not more, than Ichiro,” he adds. Several of these new distilleries are located in and around the town of Karuizawa. “My personal feeling is that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to try and compete with the legend that is the (old) Karuizawa distillery,” Van Eycken is quick to add. “The liquid that was made there turned out to be something very special, and not only by design. I have had the dubious pleasure of tasting the new-make from the old Karuizawa distillery and it was absolutely foul.  “But during the maturation process, over 20, 30, 40 years, something magical happened. Some of this can be explained, but most of it is a hermetic mystery. We simply cannot know why decades later this harsh spirit transformed into a sublime whisky (in most cases). Even if you wanted to replicate this whisky – or aspects of it – you couldn’t.  “And hoping to match the quality of the (original) Karuizawa whisky… well, it’s good to aim high but it's a bit like naming your kid Roger Federer in the hope that he would turn into a tennis player of the same calibre. Why would you want to put that sort of pressure on the kid?”  Miller is humility personified and doesn’t want to come across as a wizened cynic or, in his words, “boring old fart”, but he’s not confident that all the country’s new distilleries are set for success. “I think people are now trying to replicate the business success but without the foundation of the liquid. They are selling Japanese whisky futures but who knows what the liquid is going to be like because it's not just A + B = C.” There is a cautionary tale in the annals of Scottish whisky distilling that Japanese producers might be wise to heed. Scotch has famously fallen victim to its own success – with booms and busts resulting in whisky lakes, or lochs, that have crippled the industry and forced mass distillery closures. In so faithfully replicating Scotch, there is a real danger Japan will find itself back in the 1980s when the likes of Karuizawa were shuttered. This time, however, there would be many more casualties.      “For the time being, the Japanese whisky scene continues to be marked by an unbridled optimism,” Van Eycken adds. “Distillers price their (invariably young) whiskies very high (compared with similarly established whisky markets around the world) and consumers snap up the bottles regardless of the (sometimes unjustifiably) high prices.”  This price war is one of the reasons Miller et al sold their remaining stock of Karuizawa, which had initially been priced fairly but wasn’t the case when they left the scene. The 1960 Karuizawa, for example, which yielded 41 bottles was released circa 2014 for £12,500. Within a decade, those same bottles were easily reaching $375,000. “That's not a bad return in 10 years,” Miller says caustically. “But that's not why we did it. If that had been our motivation, we'd have just held on to it and had 41 times that.” For those still in the industry – and disciples of it – there is a real push to protect the integrity of Japanese whisky and futureproof it. Yoshikawa picks up the point, outlining that the few have muddied the water for the many: “The rapid publicity and the reputation of Japanese whisky have led to its use of excessive PR strategies, even when this is not in line with the facts of the product.” For these reasons, she is an advocate of more stringent regulations, like the ones announced by the Japan Spirits and Liqueurs Makers Association in 2021 which aims to restrict certain practices – like labelling whisky that isn’t actually from Japan as Japanese whisky – akin to those enshrined and strongly policed in Scotland. But she, like many, thinks these could go further and believe it is important to continue scrutinising the practices of the small and larger players, ensuring there is greater transparency and less “skullduggery”, as Van Eycken puts it. As the ink dries on the past 100 years of Japanese whisky, no one knows what the next century might entail – but there's plenty of excitement. The landscape will undoubtedly change once more, and new giants and legends will likely emerge. For whisky enthusiasts, the challenge – as always – will be pre-empting the plot twists and securing bottles before they become little more than folklore.  Browse all Japanese whisky or read more editorial

As Japanese whisky enters its 100th year, producers are in a mad scramble to build the next legend. Holly Motion assesses whether previous fairytale endings can be repeated – and ponders if those individuals attempting to stand on the shoulders of giants might have a great fall

Exploring the epic story of Japanese whisky – from its genesis, to rebirth and future – as it celebrates its centenary.

100 years of Japanese whisky

A modern epic: 100 years of Japanese whisky

This year Michael Silacci is celebrating 21 years at Opus One. Taking over as winemaker for Napa’s first cult estate and arguably the region’s most famous property (a joint venture between Ch. Mouton Rothchild and Robert Mondavi) was no small task. But Silacci’s experience was almost unparalleled; he’d worked in the valley for 40 years, under some of the most iconic producers in the region’s history. In the 1980s, Silacci was mentored by America’s most influential post-Prohibition winemaker, André Tchelistcheff at Beaulieu Vineyard. In the 1990s, he became the right-hand man of Napa legend Warren Winiarski at Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars. When he took the role at Opus One in 2001, he was making wine alongside Mouton’s winemaker Patrick Léon and Robert Mondavi’s son Tim Mondavi. Of all the many things he learnt from these mentors, it was their belief in him that really empowered him – and it was this that would shape his work ethic at Opus. Silacci understood the power of responsibility from a very young age. Working in his grandfather’s dairy farm at the age of 10, he was an essential cog in the operation. “He was a very practical man,” says Silacci of his grandfather, “and would allow me to get on with my work, without ever looking over my shoulder.” Silacci quickly learnt what was expected of him. Silacci found himself in a similar position in his first winemaking job. He had just finished his studies at the University of Bordeaux. While he had worked in wineries and vineyards before, up until that point he had never really been given any responsibility or allowed to make decisions. In a subsequent internship, he found himself under the mentorship of Bordeaux wine legend, Denis Dubourdieu (Ch. Doisy-Daëne), who turned to Silacci and said, “You have taken all the classes, so make the wine!” Dubourdieu instantly put his faith in Silacci’s abilities, which was hugely inspiring for the young winemaker.   It wasn’t long before Silacci was drawn back to the US and Napa where things were really starting to develop; first working at Beaulieu Vineyard, then at Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars. In the 1990s, Silacci witnessed a lot of change in the valley as phylloxera ravaged the region. “First, there was denial, then there was anger and finally we learnt from it,” he says. “If Napa was to survive as a wine-producing region, people had to work together to solve its problems.” The group effort that followed – experimenting with rootstocks and clones, and most importantly sharing their discoveries, seeking the right combination to sustain the region’s future –was inspirational. This was a problem that couldn’t be solved by the individual.  When the opportunity arose to join Opus One in 2001, Silacci leapt at the opportunity – but it wasn’t an easy start. Silacci was used to a hands-on role, working in the vineyard and winery. At Beaulieu Vineyard, he oversaw 28,000 acres, five vineyard management teams, five winemakers and 85 grape growers. Under Tchelistcheff and Winiarski, he had learnt how to read the valley – noting how fruit in the same vineyard changed where the soils did, that different parts of the same vineyard would ripen at different times. It was this understanding of Napa’s terroir that he wanted to bring to Opus. His first week, however, consisted of back-to-back office meetings. “Don’t ever schedule a week for me like that again,” he told his PA.  Silacci arrived at Opus One with his eyes wide open and mouth shut, wanting to observe how the operation was working – and where potential problems lay. While everyone knew what they were doing, h felt that a sense of collective responsibility – and the passion that comes with that sense of ownership – was missing.  In such a big organisation – operating as part of the Mondavi stable in Napa – he wasn’t going to be able to change things overnight, but Silacci didn’t waste any time in the vineyard. When he arrived, the viticultural teams worked across the brands. One week they would be pruning To Kalon (Napa’s prized vineyard, of which 100 acres goes into Opus One), and the next week they would be pruning vines for a $25 bottle of Chardonnay in Carneros. For Silacci, this didn’t make any sense, and the vines needed to be treated differently. He knew from experience that a permanent viticultural team taking ownership of the vines they cared for would improve the quality of the fruit. Within four weeks, he had two teams dedicated solely to the Opus One vineyards. Changing attitudes in the cellar was not so easy. “It was very difficult to integrate with the team,” admits Silacci. “They were very set in their ways and were not really interested in doing things differently.” Silacci identified that it wasn’t what they were doing, but their attitude towards doing it that he felt was wrong. “The cellar crew only did one thing at a time,” says Silacci. “That was their reason for doing something well.” But Silacci, true to form, took a different approach. “Any living thing, human or plant, has to have a sense of urgency,” he says. “If you give people too little work to do and vines too much water, they develop a sense of leisure, they get distracted and miss opportunities… But if you give people too much to do and the plant too little water, they develop a sense of anxiety. They are stressed, which is not healthy and they make mistakes.” Silacci’s goal was to find a middle path. More than that, like his mentors before him, he wanted them to take responsibility in what they did and, with that, instil more passion in the team. “I knew they understood the mechanisms of winemaking,” says Silacci, “but I didn’t know if they felt it. I don’t know if they are passionate about what they do.” He decided to split the cellar team into two teams of three. Each was given 22 rows of the top vineyard. “Between them they had to make all the decisions on pruning, suckering, fruit drop, harvest decisions – everything.” Each team would then make around 1,000 bottles each at the end of the year.  Projects like this, Silacci believes, not only gave his team a sense of autonomy and responsibility, but it helped build passion for what they were doing. “You create a sense of urgency, and you get back a sense of focus,” he says.  Silacci believes that a consensus among the team is key – but only if everyone is equally invested in the final product. Today he has a permanent team of five, who together create the final blend. They are also joined at the later stages by Mouton’s Jean-Emmanuel Danjoy and another of the Mondavi team. Typically, they produce over 50 blends each year before making their decision. And it’s the most important decision of the year. “Blending really is at the heart of Opus One,” Silacci says.  The idea is that everyone in the team has a voice – and everyone is listened to equally. He feels it took 10-15 years for the team to completely understand this consensus-driven approach.  While the theory may not always work, admits Silacci (“Ultimately it is my head on the chopping block”), his aim is to empower his team with responsibility. Like his mentors before him, he loves to give them autonomy in their role, allowing them to figure it out on their own – meaning they’re more invested in what they do. “We all have a blind spot,” he says, “But if you have people standing with you, looking out, they mask your and other people’s weaknesses and you build a circle of people each with their strengths,” he says. For Silacci, the collective – like a blend – is stronger than the individual. “The very best teams,” he says in a calming, zen-like tone, “are not circles, but spheres.” And that perfect sphere is what he continues to strive for at Opus. Find out more about and browse all listings from Opus One or read more Editorial 

Under the tenure of winemaker Michael Silacci Opus One has gone from strength to strength. But it’s not him or owners Mouton-Rothschild and Mondavi that are at the heart of its success; for Silacci, it’s all down to the power of collective responsibility

After 21 years at cult Napa estate Opus One, Michael Silacci believes much of his success lies in collective responsibility. Here’s why.

Opus One's winemaker on collective responsibility

Opus One’s Michael Silacci on the power of collective responsibility

Ch. Latour doesn’t need PR. The Pauillac estate, one of Bordeaux’s five hallowed First Growths, is rightfully revered. But browse Google and there’s an almost eerie absence of stories about what you’d imagine is one of the world’s most storied estates. It can, and does, let its wines do the talking. Sure, when it broke ranks and walked away from en primeur in 2012, there was a flurry of activity – as the wine world rushed to record Latour’s momentous decision. But even then, the news came via a letter to négociants, none of whom were particularly willing to comment on record. There’s been little noise from the estate itself. Even the release of its first vintages since it left en primeur (2012 and 2013, for the Grand Vin, in 2020 and 2021, respectively) didn’t come with the patter of press interviews. It’s hard not to draw comparisons between the style of its wines – powerful, precise and stern – and the team here. Their quiet breeds confidence. The estate has some of the Médoc’s finest terroir. Right next to (just 300m from) the Gironde, the temperature is moderated; this combined with the natural airflow shields them from extreme weather (even in severe frost years such as 2017 or 2021, the damage at Latour has been negligible). But it is the soils – the free-draining gravel layered over sticky blue clay (the latter the same sort as found at Pétrus) – that makes the place truly special. While the property’s reputation stretches back to the 14th century, many pinpoint the moment it was bought by François Pinault in 1993 as pivotal. The billionaire – who currently sits at number 32 on the Forbes list – invested heavily and hired CEO Frédéric Engerer, the man who has in turn led Latour firmly to the front of the pack. Of the 10 most recent vintages of Latour reviewed by the Wine Advocate, four received perfect scores, another two got 98 points. This is a property at the very top of its game. So why the silence? “We are all focused on what we do. When François Pinault bought the estate, when Frédéric Engerer joined as CEO, the aim is to make the best wine possible. That’s the priority,” Jean Garandeau, the property’s Sales and Marketing Director, tells me. “We are not sending tons of press releases,” he says. “We like to communicate with our clients one-to-one.” The face of Latour amongst the trade, Garandeau seems equally mysterious when looking at his digital footprint. He grew up around wine – guaranteed with a Burgundian mother and Bordelais father (“We were used to having good wines and good food at our table,” he tells me). But it was the commercial side that officially drew him, heading off to business school in Paris, before a stint at Moët Hennessy managing the marketing for Krug. He arrived in Bordeaux in 2010, working across Pinault’s straight flush of wine estates (under the Artémis group) – now including Eisele Vineyard, Ch. Grillet, Domaine d’Eugénie, Clos de Tart and, of course, Latour. Unsurprisingly, given the places, the people and bottles involved – it’s a gig he’s happy to keep. The challenge with such pedigree, of course, is how one manages to stay on top. Asking Garandeau, he says: “Never get satisfied by what you are doing.” And it seems there’s no risk of complacency at Latour. Despite the limited drip-feed of information, it is clear that the First Growth is more than happy forging its own path. The property started experimenting with organics in 2007 – “to understand the impact of these methods in a oceanic climate”, Garandeau explains. They picked the most sensitive plots to test the limits of organic viticulture. Almost a decade later, they converted the entire estate, becoming officially certified in 2018. The historic heart of the estate, L’Enclos, is now farmed entirely biodynamically – although they don’t plan to shift the entire 95 hectares to biodynamics. While Garandeau won’t offer any details, there are “lots of experiments – but nothing we are communicating about”. The aim, however, is “to make this place in harmony with its environment”. Since the winery was renovated in 2001, the team has been able to vinify plots individually, allowing a broader palette when it comes to blending. Today, they’re also looking to reduce sulphur – in particular when the grapes first arrive at the winery, feeling it is something that results in fruit of greater purity and complexity. What’s next? “Constantly looking at what could be the solutions of tomorrow to fight against climate change, to introduce even more biodiversity at the estate,” Garandeau says. To find out exactly what those solutions are, we’ll need to wait and see. There’s a clear reluctance to reveal too much. Perhaps of course, it’s because – inevitably – people continue to ask about the shift away from en primeur, the reasons behind it, and whether they feel they made the right choice. So, did they? With only two vintages released under the new system, it’s too soon to say. But, there’s no doubt that demand for Latour remains strong. While Bordeaux properties are holding back and increasing proportion of stock for mature ex-château releases with perfect provenance (and an associated premium), no one – yet – has been bold enough to follow in the First Growth’s footsteps. This month sees the release, or re-release, of a parcel of 2005 Latour – a star-studded vintage that has left critics suitably impressed (Antonio Galloni described the wine as “life-affirming”). It was, in Garandeau’s words, an “easy” growing season – dry and warm but with doses of rain at the appropriate junctures – that produced stunning wine, only on the cusp of its extensive drinking window. “It combines a lot of very top elements. It’s a vintage that has naturally a great backbone, great tannin structure, magic of ripe and quite juicy fruit at the same time… but keeps that wonderful balance,” he says. “It’s definitely in the league of the great vintages we produced in the 20th/21st centuries.” It’s hard to imagine the lure of this fabled stalwart of the fine wine scene fading. Approachability is over-rated – this is a property in it for the long-term. And as anyone lucky enough to have tasted any number of legendary vintages from this estate knows, it’s well worth the wait. Browse all current available listings of Ch. Latour or read more Editorial

Few wine producers are as lauded as Ch. Latour. Ahead of the release of their 2005, Sophie Thorpe attempts to look behind the curtain at the legendary First Growth estate

Looking behind the curtain at legendary First Growth estate Ch. Latour ahead of the release of their 2005 vintage.

Behind the curtain at First Growth Ch. Latour 

Ch. Latour: the power of silence

There are few people that get to taste Bordeaux as often or as thoroughly as the Wine Advocate Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW. Based in Napa, her knowledge of how the Bordeaux varieties are managed – both in Bordeaux’s moderate climate and the hotter region of Napa – has become a huge asset in understanding and assessing Bordeaux in a warming climate. With such exposure to vintages past and present, being mentored by the world’s most influential critic Robert Parker, there’s no one better to consider what defines Bordeaux today.  Perrotti-Brown has a clear idea of how and why Bordeaux has changed so much in the last 20 years, while at the same time emphasising that there’s no “hard stop” to an era. An individual château’s period of change can be different to its neighbours. “It seems like every château has had its challenging period,” she says, “whether it be a dogmatic winemaker, recurring faults in the winery or even financial difficulties.” Each era of Bordeaux is not simply defined by set vintages, however – with the benefit of hindsight – she believes you can see clear, defining moments over the last two decades where the style of Bordeaux has changed. Like much of the wine world in the 1980s and ’90s, Bordeaux châteaux were still understanding the effects of faults in their wines – whether it be volatile acidity, dissolved oxygen or Brettanomyces. With increased emphasis on ripeness and new oak, these issues only increased. “Brett and other faults love new oak and higher alcohol, it was almost a perfect storm,” she explains. But as this became more of an issue in the region, it led to more research, bringing about a much better technical understanding of why these things were happening. It was this scientific awakening that Perrotti-Brown believes was the catalyst for the modern era. “Momentum for change has sped up in the last 20 years and there have been lots of triggers,” she says. “There is a better understanding of what ripeness is, precision viticulture and winemaking, the development of technology and of course there is climate change.” But outside this and perhaps the most important “trigger” behind this change, she believes, is money. “To run a château has become very expensive: 30 or 40 years ago many of these châteaux were simply operating as agriculturalists, now it is a multi-million-dollar business.” Big money has no doubt brought about big investment and Perrotti-Brown believes in many ways it has “levelled the playing field”. A lack of investment in the winery and vineyard is now a rare excuse for poor performance. “It has raised the standard throughout the region. Investment and greater precision has created a lot of diversity – more than we have ever seen before.” In terms of taste, the most positive developments in Bordeaux for Perrotti-Brown come from the vigneron’s better understanding of ripeness, both in terms of tannin ripeness and fruit concentration. “Hindsight is a beautiful thing,” she quips, “but we have seen dark periods on both sides of the spectrum in Bordeaux.” There were real issues with lack of ripeness through much of the 1970s and ’80s. High production levels saw diluted grapes harvested and simply chaptalized (sugar added) to bring up the alcohol, then at fermentation, the must was overworked to extract enough colour and tannins. Since top Bordeaux was known for its long ageing potential, this was necessary to create the structure to age – “Otherwise you were going to end up with a diluted, watery mess,” explains Perrotti-Brown. This extended maceration saw the extraction of very hard tannins – “the wrong sort of tannins that come at a later stage of extraction”. “It is better extraction techniques, only extracting quality tannins, that is a major reason behind the most recent improvements,” Perrotti-Brown explains. She points to the legendary 1982 vintage. “A lot of people at the time were saying the tannins of the ’82s were too soft, too juicy, too fruity and it just wasn’t true.” The vintage was warm, particularly for that era. “At harvest the vignerons were picking grapes with a natural ripeness to the tannins, which meant during extraction the tannins and colour came easily.” They didn’t have to overwork the grapes to extract the tannins, producing wines that were great in their youth and have since aged incredibly well. It was the quality, not quantity, of tannins that stood the 1982s in such good stead, a lesson that wasn’t necessarily learnt instantly. Overworking the musts and a lack of concentration continued to be commonplace throughout much of the ’80s and ’90s. Many wines were hugely extracted and required plenty of patience. “You compare that with now,” she says. “I was discussing the 2020 vintage with Ch. Margaux’s Philippe Bascaules – and he barely needed to touch the grapes during extraction.” At better ripeness levels (as seen in 2020), the colour and tannins extract themselves. In the mid-90s to early 2000s, however, there was “a chase for ripeness”, in Perrotti-Brown’s words. “It was the beginning of the garagiste era – with reductions in yield, later picking and an emphasis on power. You had super low yields, producing behemoth, impenetrable wines in their youth, 200% new oak etc – people were really pushing the boundaries.” It is a style that is seen by many as actively encouraged by Perrotti-Brown’s mentor Robert Parker, who at this point was arguably the most influential man in Bordeaux. The incredibly hot 2003 vintage marked a watershed moment for Bordeaux. “Bordeaux winemakers had never seen anything like it. Grapes were turning to raisins on the vine,” Perrotti-Brown says. Despite the year’s conditions which exposed the push toward ripeness, the emphasis on power continued up until the 2010 vintage. Despite the focus on ripeness and extraction, there were some exceptional vintages – but Perrotti-Brown questions how well these wines have since aged. This is, in her view, a key shift in the region. She compares tasting the 2005s en primeur, with tasting the vintages of today. While 2005 was clearly a fantastic vintage, tasting these wines so young was really difficult, with aggressive tannins. Many winemakers were, Perrotti-Brown says, “making wines by formula”. A high-quality vintage gave vignerons a free ride to push the extraction even more. The criticism often made of 2005 is that it has taken such a long time to come around. Similar issues are raised with the same vintage in Burgundy. The year was at the height of the trend for maximum ripeness and extraction, for both Bordeaux and Burgundy, and the resulting wines shut down for a long period. Perrotti-Brown accepts that people have different expectations on when to drink Bordeaux, but she loves to drink wine in its mid-life, when there is both primary fruit and tertiary development. The problem with the 2005s, she says, is that that window never really opened: the wines remained closed, only beginning to open up now, when there is little primary fruit left. “Many of the ’05s are, wow, exceptional now, but you miss that sweet fruit and it’s what I like about the modern vintages,” she says. Looking back, “Winemakers could have dealt with 2005 much more wisely.” The 2009 vintage provides an interesting contrast. Like the ’82s, the natural ripeness of the tannins meant the wines didn’t shut down in the same way the 2005s did. Of course, higher levels of alcohol also helped increase the potential tannin extraction. Alcohol is a solvent. Increased ripeness, which in turn leads to higher alcohol levels, can therefore lead to too much phenolic extraction. While this was a risk for many wines in the early 2000s, fortunately today’s winemakers know much more about how to handle riper fruit. The 2010 vintage might have been the last year of big, bold, extracted wines, it was nature rather than the Bordelais that dictated the change, Perrotti-Brown notes. The ’11, ’12, ’13 and ’14 vintages meant winemakers had to deal with cooler, more difficult vintages. It was not possible to produce bold wines in these vintages and retain balance. This was almost a period of introspection for Bordeaux and, for Perrotti-Brown, it led to a distinctive development where “the ethos of precision” took charge from the 2015 vintage. While there are of course exceptions, from 2015 Perrotti-Brown feels you started to see more plot-by-plot management of the vineyard, with picking times becoming much more accurate – picking plots and fermenting them separately, “rather than throwing everything together”. Extraction also became much more precise, focusing on only the quality tannins – a marked change from the previous era. This new ethos brought, in Perrotti-Brown’s view, a lot of “soul-searching” in the vineyard, with people like Alfred Tesseron spearheading a movement toward more sustainable practices. But overall, Perrotti-Brown notes, “There is so much creativity too and many people are doing different things. It has created a lot of diversity.” Amongst the creative changes happening in the winery and vineyard, developments in the wine’s élevage always seems to be a big talking point in Bordeaux. Oak is an integral part of the Bordeaux “recipe”, but – after an over-reliance in the 2000s – its use was becoming increasingly scrutinised. “Oak doesn’t ever go,” she says. “It settles down, integrates and evolves with the fruit, but it can push itself forward.” “Oak is absolutely necessary for giving shape and spice to the fruit, as well as tannic interest to the wine,” says Perrotti-Brown: for her, it’s about oak being used “smartly”. “Most people have pulled back on the new oak from the 2015 vintage onwards, but, like the tannins, it is not about more or less oak, but about using it more wisely. There is a much better understanding of oak today and much better quality of oak being used. What it lends to the tannin structure is a nice back up to the skin tannins and a spiciness in the background.” The new era – from 2015 onwards – is certainly contributing to Bordeaux being “on a good run”, in Perrotti-Brown’s words. But while there is great consistency today, she’s under no impression there won’t be problems ahead. “Warm, dry vintages have become the norm, but how warm and how dry before this becomes an issue? Bordeaux was lucky in 2020 that they got a bit of rain in August,” she says. While a lot has changed over the last 20 years in Bordeaux, there are no guarantees for the future. No matter the technology, Bordeaux’s fate lies in the hands of the shifting climate – and terroir, or more specifically the clay or limestone soils equipped to deal with hot, dry conditions, has never been so important. For now at least, though, Bordeaux is basking in its era of precision, with 2020 the third great vintage in a row. Let’s hope Mother Nature holds the region in her favour a little longer. Read our summary of Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW's report (including the wines she rated most highly) in our round-up of the critics’ verdict on the vintage Find out more about Bordeaux or read more Editorial 

No doubt that the style of Bordeaux has shifted over the past two decades. But what’s caused the change – and are the wines better? We sat down with one of the world’s most influential wine writers, Wine Advocate Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW, to delve into what defines modern Bordeaux

The Wine Advocate’s Editor-in-Chief Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW on 20 years of change in Bordeaux – and what defines modern Bordeaux

Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW on the Bordeaux evolution

Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW on the evolution of Bordeaux

Oak barrels have been used in winemaking for thousands of years. While initially their purpose was simply as a holding vessel, today it is much more than this. As we have learnt about wine production at a molecular level, we have discovered the unique interaction between oak and wine – adding flavour, textural complexity and increased ageing potential. These intrinsic qualities have seen oak at the forefront of fine wine’s greatest success stories – but also some of its greatest failures. The use of oak to improve a wine requires great skill and finding that balance has shaped the modern history of fine wine.  What is rather beautiful about winemaking, particularly in fine wine circles, is that despite the input from developments in science and technology, production remains an artisan craft, relying both on tradition and technology. The barrel-maker is a perfect example of this partnership and no one understands this better than François Frères. This lauded Burgundy cooper’s ties to the world’s greatest wines make it one of a very small number that have lived through the development and fashions within fine wine.  Today, business has never been better for François Frères; they produce 30,000 barrels a year and export to every major wine region in the world. The secret to the François Frères barrels historically, Gigandet believes, is their consistency, while the all-important signature toasting is paramount. To keep up with the ever-growing world of fine wine, François Frères produces tailor-made barrels that fit the varying climates and varying styles of each winemaker, meeting the standards set by today’s precision-led winemaking. Despite the growth of the business in recent years, François Frères still remains intrinsically linked to its homeland in Burgundy and the specific microclimate of Saint-Romain that is so important for the seasoning of their oak – another key factor behind the company’s success. “The microclimate of Saint-Romain, in a windy and pollution-free environment is ideal for the seasoning and drying of the oak. This oxidation of phenolic compounds under the influence of fungi, releases enzymes that hydrolyse the phenolic compounds, reducing the wood’s astringency, producing oak of the finest quality for wine production,” Gigandet tells me. The art of the cooper is much more than just sawing and toasting – it’s about sourcing, traceability, control of drying time and heating, hygiene, temperature control, sorting and more. With increased knowledge, the quality of the barrels, like that of the wines, has greatly improved. Even just a few years ago, Gigandet admits that in colder Burgundy vintages, sometimes their barrels jarred with the wine – they “brought too much tension and could sometimes seem too austere”. But now they have a better understanding of the qualities their barrels can bring to Burgundy: “François Frères barrels remain attractive to winemakers because they are great at retaining freshness and minerality.” Perhaps most importantly, François Frères wants its barrels to amplify a wine’s intrinsic qualities. “It wants to accentuate the beautiful tannic structure of a wine, contribute to its flavour but without excess of sweetness from the toasting, as well as amplifying the wine's tension and minerality, helping retain its freshness and its fruit,” Gigandet says. As technology has developed, so has François Frères. It is what Gigandet aptly calls “the evolution of taste” – “the cask has evolved considerably over the last few decades along with the quality of the wines. Today, the barrel is much more specific, manufacturing almost tailor-made barrels for each customer’s needs.” The business was founded by Joseph François in the early 1900s, never imagining that being a cooper would become a full-time job. Back then, Gigandet reminds us, “It took several trades to live.” But the next generation, Robert and Henri François, saw the demand for oak casks rise, at that time mainly used to transport wines. They took the operation full-time, creating the François Frères brand in 1942. In those days, as Gigandet points out, “The tradition of maturing wines in barrels was reserved only for the very top red and white wines of Burgundy and the great Bordeaux châeaux.” Even within these regions, barrels were a luxury, re-used year after year given their expense, therefore keeping the demand for new barrels low. By the 1960s the brothers were met by the development of stainless steel and plastic containers. The barrel quickly lost it supremacy as the preferred vessel for transportation and demand plummeted. It was only the top producers that helped keep the cooperage going. By the 1970s François Frères was producing barrels for one of the world’s most famous estates, Domaine de la Romanée-Conti – a partnership that would be instrumental in the continuation of the business through a difficult period. The next generation – Robert's son, Jean – was confronted by the economic downturn of the early 1970s and turned to export to save the family business. Fortuitously at this time, oenologists in the United States started to highlight how ageing wines in new oak barrels brought complementary flavours and complexity to the wines. In the 1980s, the French market caught onto the idea and both export and domestic markets grew. The oak barrel was entering an era where it would become the star of the show – and a must for all top producers. François Frères’s reputation for working with the best saw it perfectly placed to capitalise on this new-found love for the barrel. But according to Gigandet, it wasn’t just the fashion of using new oak in the 1980s and ’90s that saw such a huge increase in demand. This trend emerged just as wine exports exploded. What he calls “the democratisation of wine” saw the world of wine suddenly open up to the middle classes – and this increase in sales saw an ever-increasing need to maintain quality and improve consistency. Such demand prompted and funded a better scientific and technological understanding of wine production. More importantly for François Frères, it fuelled the need for a better understanding of what barrel-ageing does to wine – and why. It was already clear that contact with new oak changed wine profoundly. Most obviously the aromas and flavours of the wine develop, becoming more complex. These aromas and flavours are formed during the toasting of the barrels. “It is this toasting of the barrel that remains the signature of the cooper,” explains Gigandet. But the oak didn’t just impact the flavour, they came to understand that, being porous, oak allowed the wine to undergo “controlled oxygenation”. The exchange of air through the oak staves, in particular for red wines, helps stabilise the colour and polymerise the tannins. This polymerisation not only softens the wine, but brings a textural complexity, a millefeuille layering of mouth-feel brought about by the linking of long tannin chains, encouraged by the micro-oxygenation process that the wine goes through when aged in oak barrel. “François Frères barrels are ageing tools, which contribute to the textural improvement of wines, when used wisely,” Gigandet explains. As the wine world’s love of oak grew, François Frères’ main export customers went from little-known names to pioneers in their respective regions – with Robert Mondavi in the US, Angelo Gaja in Italy, Nicolas Catena in Argentina and Australia’s Rosemount winery. Each of these producers further cemented the cooper’s reputation, representing the very pinnacle of oak barrel production. Of course, like all fashions, the oak craze of the ’90s saw some extreme uses – 200% new oak ageing or an over-reliance on oak to provide flavour to wines that lacked the natural concentration to carry it. This saw many producers and consumers react strongly against its presence in wine at all. Even Gigandet admits that there are wines with “excess woodiness” to their detriment. Today, the barrel also has to compete with new trends in wine maturation – concrete eggs and clay amphorae, for instance. But while these new vessels have captured the imagination of the world’s top winemakers, it is not necessarily at the expense of the barrel. “The barrel has an important oenological role in the development of wines from certain grape varieties,” states Gigandet – notably Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Syrah and Pinot Noir. But he also outlines how different ageing vessels combined can also benefit a wine’s potential for complexity. This is certainly the case amongst some leading producers in Bordeaux and Burgundy that are using both oak barrels and alternative ageing vessels. Coopers like François Frères have weathered the changing relationship wine has had with the barrel; with shifting views of critics and drinkers over the last century. Fortunately for fine wine lovers, there’s little sign of oak fading into the background. Oak remains a vital ingredient in many of the world’s greatest wines, adding to its flavour, textural complexity and – of course – ageing potential. Today oak has never been so deftly handled, bringing so much to a wine, while retaining the grapes’ natural expression. The art of the cooper lives on. Read more Editorial 

Oak has played a vital role in the changing history of fine wine. In 2021 we spoke to Max Gigandet – Managing Director of leading Burgundy cooper François Frères – to explore the power of a good barrel and why oak isn’t going anywhere

Exploring the vital role oak has played in the changing history of fine wine and the power of a good barrel with François Frères

François Frères on the art of the cooper

Finding the balance: the art of the cooper

The constant tension in wine is between art and science; the best winemakers managing to toe the line between the two to create something that can be inspirational. This relationship is most tangibly expressed on the labels of the world’s most iconic wines, with the likes of Ch. Mouton Rothschild, Leeuwin Estate or Domaine de Trévallon bearing specifically commissioned works. But at Castello di Ama, art is much more than an aesthetic afterthought; it is entwined with the very substance of the forward-thinking Chianti Classico estate. While the property has a long history – its hilltop location praised for the quality of its wines as long ago as the 18th century – the most recent chapter in Castello di Ama’s tale starts in the 1970s, when four friends identified the potential of the abandoned hamlet. It was, however, the arrival of Marco Pallanti in 1982, and then with current CEO Lorenza Sebasti in 1993 – daughter of Lionello Sebasti, one of the founding four – that proved pivotal. Together this duo has drawn equally on the worlds of art and science to thrust the estate to the forefront of Italy’s winemaking scene. When Pallanti arrived, fresh from his studies in Bordeaux, the cellar had been built, the vineyards established. The winery was remarkable for Tuscany – flush with stainless steel and temperature-control technology, lightyears ahead when much of Italy (and Europe) was still making wine in the same way their grandparents and great-grandparents had. The vineyards, however, needed work, planted at low densities and on overly vigorous rootstock. Pallanti gradually transformed the vineyards, switching them over to the lyre system – an open trellis that allowed more exposure for the fruit and fuller ripening, tweaking the varieties planted and using only the finest fruit in the cellar.  While the winery has all the latest gadgetry, there are no hard and fast rules for Pallanti – it’s all about having the option to tailor his winemaking to each cuvée. This palette of possibilities is a luxury of being, in his words, a “pedestrian winemaker” – being amongst the vines and barrels all year round, able to respond and adapt accordingly. “I’m not a consultant… I have the possibility to taste the berry, taste during the ageing and can decide step by step,” he explains. In many ways science allows him the luxury of playing the artist – armed with the knowledge and tools to craft each wine. Over four decades at the estate for Pallanti, and almost 30 years for Sebasti, one thing remains consistent: the importance of their role as “guardians” of Castello di Ama. “I never follow the fashion,” Marco Pallanti tells me. “It’s not about changing vats, or using another kind of temperature, or ageing more or less in barrels… but truly having more and more spiritual identity of the vines. This strong personality – this is what we have to keep. This is a gift.” In search of this spiritual identity, Pallanti has adapted his oak usage over the years – and how he talks about it, placing more emphasis on size rather than origin. At first he worked with big casks, of 20 to 40 hectolitres, but as the wines gained in body, they could support small casks – something which he feels is important for the stabilisation of colour. His aim, however, is never for the oak to be too present; in fact, over the last decade, the portion of new oak used at the estate has been halved, as he seeks to unmask the fruit and its terroir. Their responsibility is not to fads or fashions, but to the soul of this special site. Sebasti and Pallanti (previously married) have always loved modern art – but the inspiration for Castello di Ama’s remarkable project was the restoration of its cellars in 1998-99. Stripping it of concrete and artificial lighting, there was a huge wall just as you entered the winery with a line of large casks no longer in use. The duo felt intensely that they needed to get rid of them. “It didn’t show how we feel about the wine and the winemaking,” Sebasti explains. “Looking at this space, we both dreamed… this is a great space for a contemporary art sculpture.” They had recently been to see a Michelangelo Pistoletto show, and they thought maybe they could invite him to create something. He did just that, finishing his work L’Albero di Ama in 2000.  Since then, 15 artists – including Anish Kapoor – have produced pieces of art that are now part of the estate, gradually infiltrating the gardens, vineyards and winery. Initially the works were commissioned via the influential Galleria Continua, but since 2015 Philip Larratt-Smith has been in charge of curating the collection. The most recent addition, by Miroslaw Balka, was conceived over nine visits, with the Polish artist spending more than two months in total at the property. But every single artist visits Ama – the artwork inspired by the place and its wines, the finished pieces eventually returning to inspire Sebasti and Pallanti in their own art. “I believe our pieces of art can explain my wine better than me,” Pallanti says.  “Our dream has been to develop this collection,” Sebasti explains. “All the artists that we have met, they fall in love with the place… [They] get inspired by the story, by the history, the real methodology of our winemaking, that we don’t produce only from our vines. Somehow the art of wine and the art itself, they can have a dialogue.” That dialogue sparked the creation of Haiku, Ama’s other Super Tuscan – a blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Franc and Merlot. Daniel Buren’s Sulle Vigne: Punti di Vista consists of a mirrored wall, two metres high and 25 metres long, that stretches along the edge of their San Lorenzo vineyard, offering five different windows, or five different impressions, of the same site. “So strong, so powerful… it’s about wine, art, history, landscape – everything is there,” Sebasti says of the work. It was standing in front of this impressive installation that Pallanti was inspired to make Haiku, a wine which he sees as an alter ego of the estate.  These remarkable contemporary sculptures are scattered around the hilltop site, providing a dramatic contrast to the original 16th century buildings – and a neat reflection of the estate’s philosophy. “We have this grafting with the new, with the rootstock of the past,” Sebasti says. “We work in a traditional place, with traditional varieties, but for the new world, for the consumer of today.”  The latest installation will be revealed later this year, 22 years after the first piece was commissioned for the collection. “As human beings, we all live with art,” Sebasti says. “If we can bring art into everyday life, it’s a great strength.” Combining respect for their history with the latest technology, she and Pallanti are forging a path ahead, artfully curating the story, and soul, of this extraordinary estate. Explore all listings from Castello di Ama or browse more Editorial

In amongst the vines and 16th century buildings at Castello di Ama, you’ll discover striking modern sculpture. Disruptive and disarming, the art and wine of this Chianti Classico estate is at the cutting edge. Sophie Thorpe spoke to CEO Lorenza Sebasti and winemaker Marco Pallanti to find out more

Exploring the sculpture and art collection at cutting-edge Chianti Classico wine estate Castello di Ama with CEO Lorenza Sebasti and winemaker Marco Pallanti

Castello di Ama's art and soul 

Art and soul: Castello di Ama

When visiting the cellars of Domaine Hubert Lamy, you are likely to come out a lot wiser than you were when you went in. Olivier Lamy has been experimenting ever since he joined his father at the domaine in 1995, and he loves to share his findings.  On our last visit we were given two white wines blind and asked to assess them. One thing seemed immediately clear: with its deeper colour and more developed savoury tones, one wine was older than the other. “No” he replied. “They are the same age.” Okay, perhaps the reason for such variation in development is due to the wines coming from two different quality sites – a Grand Cru versus a village wine for instance? “No, it is the same vineyard,” he replied. Perplexed, the only other solution I thought must be his high-density plantings. (Olivier has planted parts of his vineyard three times the density of the norm in Burgundy, with up to 30,000 vines per hectare), the result being smaller, more flavourful berries. Wrong again.   “Wrong experiment,” he smirks, leaving us completely stumped. He presents the two bottles and the answer lies with the capsules. Both wines have the same cork closure but one has the traditional metal capsule seal, the other bottle has been dipped in wax. It is the wax capsule that seems not only younger and fresher, but more texturally complex, yet both the wines are from exactly the same vineyard, with the same vine density and vintage. It is simply the closure that has preserved one wine so much better.   Olivier has been experimenting with closures for years. There have long been concerns about natural cork, with the risk of cork taint top of the list of potential problems, but it was the issue of premature oxidation, particularly with white Burgundy, that led Olivier to investigate whether maybe the problem lay with the closure.  Despite the drop in natural cork’s popularity and their replacement with alternative, “technical” corks and screwcaps, the natural cork still has plenty of advocates, and it remains the most sustainable and natural of solutions for many. A better understanding of the causes of cork taint has vastly improved the natural cork’s reliability and reputation, yet “being a natural product there remain irregularities in the cork,” says Olivier. Natural cork is irregular in structure, therefore allowing different levels of oxygen ingress, meaning that the same wine can mature differently depending on the specific cork, and resulting in bottle variation.  Olivier also believes the irregularities of cork have become worse in recent years due to climate change, with the warmer temperatures resulting in even less consistent cork.  The benefit of the wax capsule, according to Lamy, is that it acts like a “bandage”, offsetting the irregularities of the cork. His grandfather and many other winemakers often used wax capsules for wines destined for their personal cellars; it was the reliable ageing capacity of these wines that prompted his experiments. Trialling the effects of waxed and unwaxed capsules since 2009, he decided to use wax capsules on all his wines in 2016. Over this time, he has experimented with varying diameters and lengths of cork, different treatments, as well as testing plastic, agglomerate, and technical corks before concluding that longer (54mm), technical DIAMs (a natural cork-based agglomerate closure), under wax seal produce the best results and best protect against premature oxidation.  Does this mean we have a definitive answer to the question that has plagued white Burgundy for the last couple of decades regarding premature oxidation? While his experiments certainly seem to imply that the irregularity of natural corks could be one of the biggest culprits and wax capsules one of the most successful solutions, he does not believe it is only the cork which is at fault. “There are two problems,” he says. “Poor-quality corks and the fact that wines are more fragile these days.”  The increased fragility of white Burgundy, Lamy believes, is a modern phenomenon. Climate change produces riper grapes, combine this with too many new barrels, modern presses that are too protective and you have wines that are more susceptible to oxidation. All too aware of this concern, many vignerons, Lamy believes, attempt to overprotect their wines, adding too much anti-oxidative sulphur dioxide (SO2) throughout the winemaking process. Counter-intuitively, this in fact makes the wines more susceptible to oxidation. When wine is made in a more protective environment, the more volatile phenolics remain in the wine, whereas these will drop out of a wine  when it is made oxidatively at the early stages of vinification, resulting in a much more stable wine.   Despite vignerons’ better understanding of the effects protective winemaking has on long-term ageing, these techniques are still used by many because it makes the wines so much more approachable in their youth. Many white wines today are built on developing these youthful aromas at the expense of ageing potential, Lamy argues. This is, he says, is in direct contrast with the past, where wines were built on texture, remaining fairly closed in their youth, with the aromas only developing with age.  There are still many traditional vignerons in Burgundy producing textural white wines built to age – with Lamy (who does not enjoy young, aromatic Burgundy) being one of them. With the warming climate, he has, however, had to adapt his winemaking to protect these more fragile wines. These days he manages the press cycle according to the vintage and allows for more solids when required.  With all the wines now bottled under DIAM and wax capsules, all Lamy can do now is wait. But, if his experiments are anything to go by, the risks of premature oxidation are low. Of course, he’s not sitting back – the dynamic winemaker is looking to experiment even more, pushing the boundaries to produce the best, and most age-worthy, wine possible.

Find out more about Domaine Hubert Lamy

Premature oxidation has plagued the modern era of white Burgundy – but could it be a thing of the past? Recent research by Olivier Lamy – the experimental winemaker at the helm of Domaine Hubert Lamy – could hold the key to solving the problem. We caught up with him to find out more 

Could premature oxidation in wine-making be a thing of the past? Recent research by Olivier Lamy at Domaine Hubert Lamy holds the key to solving the problem

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