Wine Zeitgeist

Photo by Ian McCausland

By Gary Hewitt, DipWSET, CWE, FWS, Sommelier

In the late 1940s, North America was recovering from the effects of Prohibition, the Depression, and the latest global war. Soldiers came home with a nascent appreciation of all things French. People extended their horizons and began to travel. They discovered that our domestic sweet and potent “sherry” and “port” bore little resemblance to the wines of Europe. Even sophisticated New York restaurants listed wines only by their origin (the producer name did not matter, except for Champagne!), and Champagne and German wines dominated lists.

Early change came in the form of less sweet and less potent wines with European-sounding names such as E. & J. Gallo’s Chablis Blanc and Hearty Burgundy—wines that in no way resembled their namesakes! At home, “Canadian wineries,” as noted by Robert A. Bell on his Wines of Canada website, “passed off their generally mediocre wines with European-sounding labels.” Undoubtedly, readers of a certain age will recognize Hochtaler, Alpenweiss, Toscana and Tollerkranz. Bell further notes that “misleading consumers actually worked.”

The 1950s and 1960s saw the impact of synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, refrigeration and stainless steel—and with them, the emergence of global trade. With best intentions, grape growers following the “Green Revolution” denuded earthen rows between vines, fed vines with purified forms of nitrogen and phosphorus, and protected vines with strong doses of pesticides. The aim was a uniform harvest of uniform grapes. In the winery, temperature control and limited exposure to oxygen enhanced freshness, particularly in white wines, in a way that we now take for granted. Unprecedented distribution to foreign markets was led by top European brands: you may fondly remember Black Tower, Mateus Rosé and straw-wrapped bottles of Chianti…or you may still be drinking these today.

The 1970s was the era of technical winemakers who transformed grapes defined by measurements of sugars and acids into squeaky-clean wines likewise defined by numbers. Schools such as the University of California

32 http://banvilleandjones.cornervine.com Davis, Roseworthy College in Australia, and Geisenheim in Germany turned out a generation of winemaking wizards who believed that technology paved the path to excellence (not just commercial success). Also, at this time, the now widespread practice of naming wines for their grape variety was promoted by American wine writer/ merchant Frank Schoonmaker. Imagine today not seeing “Chardonnay,” “Merlot,” or “Syrah” on wine labels!

The 1980s and 1990s saw a shift back to the land. Comfortable with their expertise, but realizing that technology did not compensate for poor grapes, many winemakers once again became winegrowers (a term long used in Europe). “Great wine is made in the vineyard” became a mantra, massive focus on vineyard management created physiologically perfect grapes, and terroir entered our vocabulary. The 1980s saw the rise of wine critic Robert Parker via his independent newsletter The Wine Advocate and his 100-point scale. As the most influential wine critic in history, Parker’s penchant for super-ripe, full-bodied, highly oaked wines influenced more than a generation of wine drinkers…and winemakers!

The 1990s and 2000s witnessed a burgeoning global wine industry growing in different directions, one leading to consolidation and standardization and another leading to small-to-medium scale, human-crafted wines. This largely defines the wine world that we live in today, but the past 10 years have magnified the divergence of the trends. Massive “drinks” businesses jockey for market share in campaigns promoting wines “designed” for the “consumer palate.” Meanwhile, movements for organic, biodynamic, and vegan wines (to name a few) gain ground. But the potentially revolutionary change is the emergence of “natural” wines, wines that challenge our fundamental idea of how a wine should taste. In a way, such wines bring us full circle back to the ancient methods, but this simplification ignores the enormous increase in our understanding of viticulture and oenology. Today’s winemakers make an informed choice to intervene or to leave winemaking to Nature. The impact of low-intervention winemaking is already profound.

Today, wine rests on a fulcrum, balancing climate change and industrialization, the interests of large and small producers, and the philosophies of technology and nonintervention. Today, well-made wines span a broader style spectrum than ever before, and consumers have an enormous choice. How we embrace our options will define the coming decades. Now is an exciting time: the most exciting time of my wine life.