By Bruce Leiserowitz

Is Wine Really "Art"? 

During the seminar on biodynamic viticulture Michel Chapoutier made a number of comments involving the relationship of winemaking and art.  His comments raised some interesting issues, and some unusual paradoxes.    

Michel and his co-speaker, Ron Laughton from Jasper Hill in Australia, both discussed their approaches to grape growing and winemaking from a scientific standpoint.  In fact, Michel emphasized the importance of bacteria in the soil, which he stated was important to the process of extracting minerals from the soil.  He also discussed the role of sulfites in the winemaking process to avoid disasterous results in the wine. 

Notwithstanding their emphasis on the science of winemaking, both winemakers stressed their relatively "non-interventionist" approach.  For example, Ron spoke at length on the topic of irrigation, which he believed was inappropriate intervention.  His goal was to grow grapes with lots of flavor, rather than growing for volume of grapes.  In particular, he believed that the most expressive wines came from small berries with high skin to pulp ratios. 

The question in my mind then arose:  If winemaking is so heavily reliant on the application of scientific knowledge, and if the goal in making the "best" wine is to be as "non-interventionist" as possible, then is winemaking really an art, as opposed to a highly developed craft?  When you think of the current methods of "non-interventionist" winemaking--lack of irrigation, low yields, use of indigenous yeasts, lack of filtration and fining, etc.--the stated goal is always the same; to reduce the role of the winemaker in order to express as clearly as possible the attributes of the vineyard (the terroir). 

To my mind, true art (at least great art) involves the act of creation, a comment that Michel himself made.  True art, therefore, requires the active agency of the artist.  It is the artist who channels the creative force, from whatever inspiration, and then uses the media at his or her disposal to express that creativity.  Moreover, in my view the most profound art is not simply about being attractive or entertaining.  Instead, the most profound art speaks to the human condition--what it means to be human, either viewed as an individual, or viewed in the context of one's universe. 

The fundamental goal of winemaking, by contrast, is to produce a beverage from fermented grape juice.  While wine can be complex, its essential purpose is to deliver pleasure, either by itself or as part of a meal.  It serves the same basic purpose as an appetizer, an entree or a dessert.  And while an entree may be creative and complex, its essential function is to be delicious.  An entree may look fabulous on the plate--intricately constructed, with fascinating combinations of colors and textures--but if it doesn't taste good, it is a failure. 

Moreover, if you accept the thesis that wine is best--most interesting and expressive--when the winemaker intervenes as little as possible, then the role of creativity in winemaking is reduced.  I asked Ron and Michel if they had an idea for the oak treatment of the new wine that they would be making in Australia as part of their joint venture, and the response was that they would wait until they see what the vineyards produce and then decide what oak treatment would be most appropriate.  While I personally believe that this approach is best, it also indicates to me that winemaking is really more of a craft than a creative artist endeavor. 

While I was ruminating on this topic, Michel came back to the subject of artistry in wine.  He used the analogy of a painting.  According to him, the artist's signature does not cover the entire canvas; it is written in small letters in a corner of the painting.  Similarly, according to Michel, the true art of the winemaker is NOT to place his signature predominantly on the wine.  His comment was that if you smell a wine and you immediately think of the winemaker and not the vineyard, then the winemaker has not appropriately used his or her art and has not respected the soil. 

Needless to say, analogies can lead you astray.  In winemaking, it may well be that the best wines are made in the method he describes--letting the raw materials do the talking.  In art, however, it is not necessarily the case that the best or most profound art is based primarily on expressing the qualities of the raw materials.  To use an obvious example, two artists may take a blank canvas and three colors.  The first artist may paint a picture of a landscape, keeping the colors distinct (unblended) and matching the colors on the canvas to those in the landscape (the trees are green, the sky is blue, etc.).  The second artist may paint the same landscape, but may freely blend the colors available and may often paint an element of the landscape with a color other than what the eye sees.  Is the first painting necessarily a better work of art because it arguably is truer to its raw materials?  Of course not.  A great painting need not be wholly representational and true to its raw materials. 

Returning to Michel's comments on the artist's signature on the canvas, it is true that it would be unseemly for the signature to take up the entire space.  Even so, many artists work with a style that is so unique, with specific colors, brushstrokes, and/or compositions, that their work is instantly recognizable from across the room.  Think of Van Gogh, Picasso or Monet.  Or Motherwell or Rauschenberg.  Even in another medium, like photography, it is relatively easy to pick out an Ansel Adams.  Or a Diane Arbus.  While they may not have stamped their actual names on their works, their personal vision stands out.   

Put another way, art is not simply about capturing nature (although it can be); it is about symbols and ideas.  The "Rosebud" sled in Citizen Kane is not solely there as a physical object; it is there as a symbol of what has been lost.  Art can supply us with what appears to be a pipe, but with the caption "ceci n'est pas une pipe."  Can you imagine a truly world-class wine tasting like a lemon-lime soda carrying a label which reads "ceci n'est pas un vin"?  It might be interesting art, but it would not be a good wine.

Back to Seminar main page 

            © Gang of Pour