Every now and then, the word ‘singularity’ is used to describe a particular wine that stands apart, for whatever reason, from other wines of its type. But just what is singularity, and how can wine express it? Wine writer Tamlyn Currin investigates.

What makes a wine truly singular? Tamlyn Currin explores the rare bottles that defy convention and challenge the rules of the wine world.

Searching for Singularity in wine

Searching for Singularity

Sitting opposite us, the dark-suited, dark-haired figure waved an elegant hand at the bottle of white Burgundy which he’d just fished out of a carrier bag and planted on the table with the air of a conjuror at a party. “You’ll like this,” he said; it was a statement, not a suggestion, delivered in a faint accent with American overtones and a hint of gutturality. In this totally unremarkable West London pub, a bottle of Meursault looked as out of place as a KGB officer. Which he was. We did like it, of course, who wouldn’t? It made the greasy steak and chips almost bearable, and was one of the best wines I’d ever tasted at that point in my life. I was 33 that year, 1978, and as a newish BBC foreign correspondent I wasn’t particularly well paid. He’d brought the Meursault with him to show us how sophisticated he was, and to counter the blandness of the food. But why had he suggested The Mitre as a place for lunch? It was handy for the Soviet embassy up the road, certainly; but I realised that the real attraction for him was the high-backed seats that enclosed our table and kept our conversation private. Sergei was a major in the KGB, masquerading as a press attaché. The habit of secrecy was deeply ingrained in him. The Meursault started to work on my companion, a gossipy, amusing, slightly naïve BBC executive. It worked on me, too, but under the influence of alcohol I tend to go quiet and introverted. Not so Harry. He delivered the brief lecture about Soviet harassment of our Moscow correspondent which he’d been planning. It wasn’t bad, but it didn’t make Sergei burst into tears. On the contrary. “Ah, yes, the famous Declan.” Sergei managed to put the accent on the second syllable. “Such good Russian. A pity he wastes his time hanging around those drop-outs and wastrels.” I was particularly impressed by ‘wastrels’. “I suppose you mean dissidents,” I said, pushing my glass across for more Meursault. The label read ‘1968’; the Soviet embassy must have had a superb cellar. Sergei laughed scornfully and poured. “I hear Declan’s marriage isn’t going so good now,” he said. “Ah, no, his wife left him for an airline pilot,” Harry replied, giggling. I kicked him sharply: you didn’t feed personal details about your colleagues to KGB officers. “What?” Harry said, looking at me. We saw the bottle out. Sometimes I think I can still taste that rich, green-gold collection of butter, almond, citrus and, could it have been, or is it just my imagination after more than 40 years, hints of bracken and mayflower. At the end, we stood up and shook hands. “So you’ll go easy on Declan from now on?” Harry said. “Well, Declan must stop creating bad propaganda against the Soviet Union.” He had a good ear: this time the accent was on the first syllable. Sergei turned in the direction of the embassy, and we headed back to Television Centre. “Bloody good wine those Russkies can afford,” Harry said, and gave his high-pitched laugh.For journalists and spies, booze is a famous lubricant, a fuel, even. I came from a teetotal background, yet when I started as a foreign correspondent I soon found myself ordering a glass of single malt as a means of self-protection, while someone I was trying to pump for information opened up and talked in a way he or she never would if I’d ordered a Britvic orange. Yet there were exceptions. In Belfast and Derry, where I started my reporting career, the leaders of the Provisional IRA were mostly ultra-Catholic and never drank a drop; and as I branched out and began reporting on the Middle East, I found that organisations like Hezbollah and the followers of the Ayatollah were as teetotal as I had once been. There were no bars to meet them in, either. Fortunately, though, cities like Cairo and Beirut were more sophisticated. I soon found that anywhere with a sizeable Christian population, Egypt and Lebanon, of course, but also Syria, Iraq and westernised countries like Turkey and Pakistan, made allowances for thirsty westerners and permitted them to drink, even if in cities like Peshawar you had to sign a big leather volume and register yourself as an alcoholic. The bar in the old Commodore Hotel in Beirut was a wonderful centre for professional alcoholics of this kind. I first went there in June 1982, when West Beirut was under hourly attack from Israeli planes and tanks, and there were no shelters to protect us. The presiding spirit of the place was a correspondent called Chris Drake, a hospitable soul who dispensed booze and information even-handedly. When the barrage was going on, it would have been suicidal to leave the Commodore, and the building shuddered to every nearby explosion. Chris Drake had a parrot, and when the bar was packed in the evening with journalists glad to still be alive, it would imitate the sound of a shell in flight with startling accuracy. Most of the people there, not me, thank God, had walked into the bar on their first night, heard the parrot’s hugely convincing whistle, and thrown themselves on the floor shouting “Incoming!”. There would be a roar of laughter, and someone would help them up and offer them a glass of arak, an infusion of grapes and the seeds of the anise plant. I acquired a real taste for arak at that time, and I still think of that slightly oily, metallic, liquorice-tasting liquid hitting the back of my throat and burning its way down. A few years later, during another upsurge of fighting, the Commodore was heavily shelled by the Syrian army. The building was destroyed, and no trace of the parrot was ever found. When peace was restored and there was money around, the Commodore was rebuilt, much bigger and more glitzy, but the architect designed a new bar precisely where the old one had once been. You can still see the space on the floor where many a famous journalist measured his length when the parrot did its party trick. I took my wife and 13-year-old son there a couple of years ago, and one afternoon, when the bar was empty, my son insisted on re-enacting the whole thing. In China, things were different. Meetings with underground figures usually took place at their homes or outdoors, given the fear of surveillance. I often chose Ritan Park in Beijing, where teahouses served pu-erh tea and offered a discreet place to talk. By contrast, official meetings required alcohol, specifically Maotai, a fierce baijiu distilled from sorghum at over 50% ABV. At one banquet, after being insulted by a local Party official, I tried to outdrink him. The plan failed, he had help, but we still ended the night collapsed together, singing in two languages. The next day, I was told this had enhanced British prestige. Countries where alcohol is banned present different challenges. In Taliban-controlled Afghanistan, I smuggled in a 27-year-old bottle of Laphroaig disguised as Fanta, only to pour it down the toilet when soldiers began searching rooms for alcohol. They never entered mine. After the fall of the Soviet Union, I tried to track Sergei down but never found him. Before that, though, I had taken my revenge by signing him up to every unwanted mailing list I could find, encyclopaedias, dubious magazines, and more inventive subscriptions besides. It made me feel very good.And yet, if I imagine meeting him again, I always picture the same thing: Sergei standing in the doorway, holding a superb bottle of Meursault. For that, at least, I’ve always been grateful. This article was written by John Simpson, who reflects on his experiences reporting across the world, and the role alcohol has played in the art of face-to-face reconnaissance. Illustrations by Natsko Seki. Originally published in FONDATA, Issue Two.

BBC world affairs editor John Simpson reflects on reporting from conflict zones, recalling memorable bars, encounters and the role alcohol plays in the subtle art of face-to-face reconnaissance.

BBC world affairs editor John Simpson on bars, encounters and how alcohol shapes reporting, trust and intelligence gathering worldwide.

John Simpson on bars, spies and the art of reporting

Refuge,  refreshment & reconnaissance

Xavier Vignon could best be described as a maverick winemaker whose inquisitive mind and extraordinary experiments have taken him on journeys all around the world, working on some of the must cutting-edge developments in today’s burgeoning wine scene. Initiated into oenology from a scientific background he has always had the benefit of operating free from the shackles of tradition yet now in his 40th year as a winemaker, his wealth of experience has seen him integrate his science with sensibility, developing an appreciation of producing wine in its most natural form.  We spoke to an initially noticeably weary Xavier Vignon, who is still recovering from a fairly serious bout of COVID-19. However, as soon as he starts to talk about his current projects he becomes distinctly more animated as he begins to describe all the fascinating projects he is currently working on.  This is a vigneron who clearly cannot stay still for long and has a huge drive and enthusiasm for his work. In fact, in his early days as a vigneron he was on the move all over the world working in Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, California for half of the year whilst returning to his native France to work through the harvest in the northern hemisphere. He carried out 40 harvests in 20 years.  His winemaking career started in Champagne before exploring the other wine regions of France, working in Alsace and Bordeaux among others. Coming from a family of stonemasons whose philosophy was to travel when young, he was encouraged to explore the world before settling down. These travels and the variety of experiences working in oenology from one country and climate to the next are surely a vital part of the puzzle for Xavier’s success as a winemaker. It was the Rhône Valley that finally stopped him in his tracks. Admitting he had never really
been interested in the wines of the Southern Rhône, hence the reason he arrived there later in his career, only to find that it had everything he was looking for. A huge variety of terroirs, varying altitudes, an array of grape varieties. This meant lots of freedom in blending (reminding him of his work in Champagne) lots of work on tannins (harking back to Bordeaux) and working in warmer climates of the new world. He was well-prepped to take on the region, setting up his own laboratory and consultancy practice initially advising for 20 – 25 winemakers before it expanded to over 500 in the region. Minerality, water and wine Xavier’s technical skills certainly helped many traditional vignerons to develop their wine
for global export but it also gave Xavier a tremendous opportunity to explore the multitude of wines throughout the region. Xavier became fascinated with things that were clearly evident in tasting so many wines of the region, which his scientific background couldn’t always explain. “Minerality” for example, is a term bandied around wine circles everywhere you go. We all know it exists but science cannot tell us what it is. It is not clear that we even all think it is the same thing, Xavier claims.  He was part of an extensive global research paper exploring what consumers and wine professionals identify as “minerality”. The study interviewed 5,000 consumers and 5,000 professionals resulting in no clear evidence that people were talking about the same thing. The only clear answer was that Chablis had minerality! Half the study thought more about smell, 50% thought about flavour. There is no definition still states Xavier. But this began his fascination with water and for him the key to understanding the secrets of minerality – despite him knowingly accepting he had no scientific data to prove it. This was his first step towards trusting his sensibilities over scientific analysis. For him you need to look to water to understand minerality. 85% of wine is water, water is
a huge proportion of what we taste, he states. Xavier looks to mineral water companies, even beer and whisky companies who have invested much more analysis on the affects of water, than the wine industry, largely because they have more money to do so, but also because water plays a much bigger role in their taste profile (in beer water is 90-95% water compared to wine which technically is 100% grape juice).  In their analysis of mineral salt, bottled mineral waters from different parts of the world have distinctly different levels of each mineral affecting the flavour of the water. Beer companies have also accepted that their beers made in different factories around the world taste different depending on where they are made because of the composition of the water. Whisky famously is obsessed by the quality of its water in regard to the final flavour profile of each distillery.  "So why not wine too?", asks Xavier. In different parts of the Rhône he identifies how high levels of silica in a wine makes the wine taste more acidic. How different chloride minerals provide a flavour of salinity in the wine, magnesium creates bitterness and so on. Scientific analysis doesn’t register the difference, but the difference is extraordinarily apparent when tasting. The effect of water is intrinsic, Xavier believes, to the strong mineral flavours of the Southern Rhône. The wines of the region could never taste like they do elsewhere because of the effect of the mistral. The mistral wind in places (particularly Châteauneuf-du-Pape) is so strong that it evaporates water from the berries, heightening the concentrations of mineral salts the grapes have absorbed in the water from the ground whilst the water evaporates from the berries. Xavier believes Gigondas, where the vines tend to be more protected from the mistral due to the protection of the hills, is less mineral for that reason. Xavier’s fascination with the effects of water on wine was a big reason why he began his
Arcane series, a set of one-off wines that are produced with minimal manipulation. He looks back at some regions he has worked in, stating parts of California and Australia require one to one and a half tonnes of irrigated water just to produce one bottle of wine. This is crazy! Whilst we have the science and technology for this to work, it doesn’t make sense. The Arcane Series of wines by Xavier The first wine made from the Arcane series was called “Le Diable” – translates as “the devil”. It came about when one of the vignerons he was advising took him to a high altitude Mourvèdre vineyard. The winemaker now in his eighties had struggled his whole life to get the Mourvèdre this high up to ripen, never achieving the results to use in his final wine. Xavier convinced the vigneron not to harvest the grapes with the rest of his crop, to leave the grapes on the vine and to see what happens.  It was 2015, a very late harvest already Xavier recalls but this extended Indian summer caused something in the vineyard they couldn’t believe. As the grapes continued to ripen and sugars increase, the acidity also started to go up as well! They had never seen anything like it. Xavier convinced the grower to sell him the grapes and produced the wine made just from these grapes. Xavier took the wine back to the elderly grower, who on tasting the wine began to cry. In his lifetime he had never been able to produce a wine from the vineyard, particularly not a 100% Mourvèdre!  Xavier named it Le Diable, the nickname of the Mourvèdre in the Southern Rhône because it was so difficult to ripen. Xavier knew that what happened in 2015 was unlikely to be repeated. This was a wine that made itself. It was vines in the perfect place at the perfect time and this is what he wanted the Arcane series to represent. Ever since, the Arcane series (now in its 6th and 7th cuvee to be released in the next few weeks) are complete one offs never to be repeated. The story behind the Arcane series informed Xavier’s winemaking philosophy ever since. Whilst he believes we can use science and technology to manipulate wines, he wanted to move away from this, preferring nature to tell him where and when he should make the wine. That hasn’t stopped him experimenting however and there are plenty of other cuvées that
show off Xavier’s inquisitive scientific brain operating at full speed. He is currently working with a winery in Turkey that wants to produce a wine free of any manipulation. Not only organically and biodynamically grown, natural yeasts etc but they even want the fermentation and maturation vessel to have no impact on the wine – he came up with the “vinarium” – a dark glass tank for fermentation and maturation – a natural product that does not infuse any flavour in the wine.  His next experiment is to get rid of closures altogether by extending the neck of the bottle and melting the glass at the top to seal the wine without any other material such as cork to affect the flavour. He eventually wants to create individual wines from individual vines!  He is experimenting with ageing wines both in the ocean and with his own invention of submerging a tank of wine within another bigger tank of wine. He does this with his Châteauneuf-du-Pape Cuvée Ange, comparing the process to a baby in a womb, completely protected from the outside world.  He believes you can age wine like this for 50 years without any need for sulphides or racking because there is 100% humidity and an even atmospheric pressure on the wine all the time. It’s an expensive operation and for the moment not possible for all his wines. But the level of experimentation and inquisitiveness gives you a good impression the sort of lengths Xavier will go to to push the boundaries of modern winemaking. He has no problem blending a Châteauneuf-du-Pape with a Côtes du Rhône village cuvee to make it a better wine only for it to be downgraded to a Vin de France because a Châteauneuf-du-Pape cannot be included in a blend and be titled Côtes du Rhône Villages. His interest lies in how it tastes, accentuating the multifaceted variety and complexity that exists in the Southern Rhône, rather than the traditional restraints of the appellation system. This is a maverick whose wines today are some of the most exciting in the Southern Rhône. Discover all Xavier Vignon listings or read more Editorial

Based in the Southern Rhône for the last 25 years, Xavier Vignon has amassed a huge following from critics and consumers alike, with his wines often scoring in the high nineties, yet remaining extraordinary value. We caught up with him to find out the secrets to his success

Southern Rhône winemaker maverick Xavier Vignon on the secrets to his success and high-scoring wines

Xavier Vignon, a Rhône wine innovator

Xavier Vignon: A Rhône radical

Arvine: Switzerland’s hidden treasure Berry colour: white
 Arvine, pearl of the Alps The ultimate Swiss grape variety, Arvine can produce captivating, complex wines of international stature, from dry to sweet. It is native to the Valais, southern Switzerland, where it was mentioned for the first time in 1602. Since the late 19th century, it has often been called Petite Arvine to distinguish it from Grosse Arvine, a completely different and rare local variety. I have not so far been able to uncover Arvine’s parents by DNA testing. It is often said that Arvine was introduced to Switzerland by the Romans. Its name allegedly derived from helvola, a grape variety mentioned by Cato the Elder. I refute this claim for two very simple reasons: firstly, it is impossible to establish botanical identity between the vague descriptions of Latin authors and modern varieties, and secondly, helvola grapes were black-berried. I think instead that its name comes from the local dialect arvena, itself probably derived from the Latin advena, meaning ‘just arrived’. This name could have been given to the variety shortly after its birth (or arrival?) in the Valais. It is a late-ripening variety, with small berries and compact, small bunches. It is quite productive, but prone to wind damage and susceptible to fungal diseases. Arvine covers 218 hectares (539 acres), almost exclusively in the Valais, representing only 1.48% of the country’s vine-bearing area. It produces complex, lively wines that can age well, with aromas of citrus and rhubarb, and a firm structure, as well as a characteristic salinity on the finish. Champions of Arvine In the Valais, several outstanding producers make excellent varietal Arvine wines. For dry wines, I would recommend Cave Benoît Dorsaz in Fully, Valentina Andrei in Saillon, Didier Joris in Chamoson, Cave de l’Orpailleur in Uvrier and Domaine des Muses in Granges, among many others. For the sweet wines, produced from grapes that are naturally left to shrivel on the vine, the undisputed champion is Marie-Thérèse Chappaz in Fully. From her biodynamic vineyards, this icon of Swiss winegrowers crafts some of the best sweet wines in the world, especially from Arvine. Her Petite Arvine Grain Noble is highly sought after, and her otherworldly Arvine Grain par Grain, made exclusively from botrytised berries harvested by hand, berry by berry, is almost impossible to find. Arvine has rarely been planted outside Switzerland. In Italy, it was introduced to the neighbouring Aosta Valley in 1970. In 1992, Angelo Gaja, one of Italy’s most famous wine producers, planted 0.36 hectares in Serralunga (Piedmonte). The result was a disaster, in his words, mainly because of problems with coulure and wind damage. In France, some vine parcels exist in the Languedoc and in the Rhône Valley, where charismatic winemaker Michel Chapoutier planted half a hectare in Tain-l’Hermitage, but he was not convinced by the results and has now abandoned the experiment. Outside Europe, it is produced only in Mendocino, California, by one adventurous producer, Ernest Vineyards, which makes a varietal wine under the Edaphos label.

Dr José Vouillamoz
 
Areni: Armenia’s national treasure Berry colour: BLACK 
History in a bottle Areni is the most important red variety in Armenia. It most likely comes from the village of Areni in Vayots Dzor, at the southeastern end of the county, where the world’s oldest cellar (4000 BC) was discovered in a cave in 2011. Interestingly, the grape remains found at the bottom of the old karas (the traditional clay jars) buried in the cave look very similar to the pips of the modern Areni variety. DNA profiling has failed to identify Areni’s parents, making it an orphan Armenian variety, but it has shown that at least two distinct varieties share the name Areni: Areni Sev (sev means black), the ‘true’ one that has historically been grown in Vayots Dzor, and Areni Seyrak (seyrak means loose, referring to the bunches), sporadically found among Areni Sev vines in old mixed vineyards. Areni Sev is a late-ripening variety with oblong, sometimes ovate, thick-skinned berries. The bunches are medium-sized and dense. It shows good resistance to frost, which means it can be cultivated at high elevations (up to 1,600 metres in Armenia). It is moderately resistant to powdery mildew and susceptible to downy mildew. Areni is exclusively cultivated in Armenia, where it has traditionally been used to make high-quality, age-worthy wines with complex aromas of violets, wisteria, cherries and blackberries, silky tannins and refreshing acidity. Champions of Areni After my first visit to Areni village in 2003, and despite the rudimentary winemaking at the only local winery (Areni Winery, now Hin Winery), I was convinced that Areni was among the most promising grape varieties in the world. In 2012, I met Zorik Gharibian in Izmir (Turkey) at the European Wine Bloggers’ Conference. I was much impressed by his 2010 Karasi Areni Noir, Zorah Wines’ very first vintage after 10 years of trial and error. We became friends and I selfishly helped him find an importer in Switzerland, in order to secure my own supply of his wines, including the mind-blowing high-end cuvée Yeraz. Since then, Zorik and his wife Yeraz have relentlessly promoted Armenian wines all over the world, and Zorah Wines has become one of Armenia’s most respected flagships. Their wines, sourced from ungrafted vineyards between 1,300 and 1,600 metres altitude are partly made in karas, traditional clay jars partly buried underground, ‘cousins’ of the Georgian qvevri. The sad thing is that Armenian-born Eduardo Eurnekian, one of the wealthiest people in Argentina and owner of several airports, including that of Yerevan in Armenia, has founded a winery named Karas Wines, despite not using any karas in the winemaking process. In 2018, judges granted him the exclusive usage of the name Karas, disregarding 6,000 years of shared tradition. Zorik Gharibian has been determinedly fighting against this unfair judgement and he plans to appeal to the country’s Supreme Court. I strongly support him. And I predict that Armenia may well be the ‘next big thing’ in the wine world. Dr José Vouillamoz
 Kydonitsa: Rebirth of an extremely rare grape variety Berry colour: WHITE Rescued in the nick of time Kydonitsa is a survivor, an almost forgotten variety from Lakonía (Laconia) in the southern Pelopónnisos (Peloponnese) in Greece. According to local belief, it was widely cultivated in the medieval period when Lakonía formed part of the Byzantine Empire. It then flourished under brief periods of Venetian rule, before it was threatened with extinction under Ottoman rule, as a result of the bans on alcohol consumption. It had almost disappeared when it was saved from extinction by Yiannis Vatistas and Yorgos Tsimbidi (Monemvasia Winery) in the late 1990s. DNA profiling has not revealed any match or parentage with any other variety, making it a Greek orphan. The medium-sized bunches are relatively loose and elongated. The berries are small and turn golden yellow when ripe. In Greek, the word kυδωνίτσα (kydonitsa) means ‘little quince’, referring to the aroma of both the berry and the wine. The wine also shows notes of lemon, grapefruit, bergamot and mirabelle plum, as well as aromatic herbs. It is elegant, creamy, with crisp acidity and a slightly bitter, orange-peel finish, with a hint of iodine. Kydonitsa is grown exclusively in Lakonía, on the east coast of the Pelopónnisos, near the island of Monemvasia. Champions of Kydonitsa Yorgos Tsimbidi is a visionary. In 1997, while most wineries in the Pelopónnisos were busy planting so-called international grape varieties, he founded Monemvasia Winery in order to revive the historical Malvasia wine in its birthplace. The name Malvasia has been given to a wide range of genetically distinct white-, pink-, grey- and black-skinned varieties which are all particularly well suited to the production of sweet wines. The name is purported to be a corruption of Monemvasia, which means ‘single entrance’ and is the name of a small port situated on a rocky spur in Lakonía. It has been famous since ancient times for its sweet wine made from sun-dried grapes. The earliest mention of the sweet wines of Monemvasia dates back to 1214 in Éfesos (Ephesus, today in Turkey), and in 1278 the Venetians were already importing vinum de Malvasias. The exact identities of the grape varieties making up this sweet wine are still unknown, but Kydonitsa and the appropriately named Monemvasia were probably part of the blend. This is what drove Yorgos Tsimbidi to put all his time and energy into rescuing them, carrying out countless on-farm trials since 1997. He now produces dry varietal wines, as well as the sweet ‘Monemvasia – Malvasia’, a blend of Monemvasia, Kydonitsa, Assyrtiko and Asproudi grapes, dried for approximately two weeks under the sun, in order to revive the ancient tradition. Today, Yorgos runs the winery with his wife Elli and their daughters Marialena, Anastasia and Artemis. I was able to taste a mini-vertical of Kydonitsa during my visit in 2016, which convinced me of the exceptional quality and ageing potential of this resurrected variety. And the rest of the portfolio convinced me that Monemvasia Winery is one of the best in mainland Greece. Dr José Vouillamoz

 Baga: Northern Portuguese red with a simple name and a complex character Berry colour: black 
The rehabilitation of Baga The meaning of Baga may be simple (berry) but the variety is far from it. When it is good, it is breathtakingly beautiful and capable of long ageing. When it is abused, it is acid, mean and lean, with tough tannins. It requires commitment from growers and wine lovers. While it may have originated in Portugal's Dão region, it has found its home in neighbouring Bairrada, where it is the dominant red variety. In 2017 there were 8,258 hectares (20,406 acres), 4% of Portugal’s vineyard area. It’s found mainly in Bairrada but also in Dão, although there it is not authorised in DOP wines. Baga vines are also planted, though far less numerously, in Lisboa, the Tejo and the Douro. The cool, wet, Atlantic-influenced climate of Bairrada is particularly inconvenient for a late-ripening variety with thin skins and prone to botrytis. If its vigour and productivity are not controlled by careful viticulture or the natural balance achieved by older vines in poor soils, there is increased risk of under-ripeness or rot when the September rains arrive. Despite all this, those whose hearts have been captured by the variety have shown it to be as bewitching as Pinot Noir, and as hauntingly complex and long-lived as Nebbiolo. Champions of Baga The variety allows itself to be made in many styles, influenced strongly by the soil (limestone-clay and granite are both prized), the age of the vines and, not least, by the personalities of the winegrowers and their choices in the winery. The most restlessly experimental and determined is Luís Pato, who was prominent among a small group of quality-minded winegrowers who dragged Baga into the spotlight for fine wine after it had languished for so long as a source of bulk reds churned out by the state-controlled co-ops and négociants for much of the 20th century. While there are today, thankfully, too many good winegrowers to mention by name, the Baga Friends display the variety’s wonderful diversity: from the powerful styles aged in oak that become increasingly complex and perfumed with age that are produced by, for example, Luís Pato, Mário Sérgio Alves Nuno at Quinta das Bageiras, François Chasans at Quinta da Vacariça and Paulo Sousa at Sidónio de Sousa; to the lightly stepping, red-fruited, fresh and scented beauties of Filipa Pato and Douro incomer Dirk Niepoort at Quinta de Baixo. Baga can also make very good sparkling wines. Bussaco Palace Hotel has an astonishing collection of very old vintages, blending Baga from Bairrada with Touriga Nacional from Dão. Julia Harding MW 
Kisi: Recently resurrected and scented Georgian white Berry colour: WHITE The resurrection of Kisi Maybe it’s because thin-skinned Kisi is difficult to grow and sensitive to the climate that it was on the verge of extinction at the end of the 20th century, when David Maisuradze made a wine that put the variety firmly back in the spotlight. The highly respected winemaker, then with Telavi Wine Cellar, managed to find just four tonnes of the variety to make a wine, fermented in a stainless-steel tank, that stunned wine lovers with its pure, floral aromas and deep fruit flavours of citrus and pear, richly fruited but dry. This variety didn’t stand much chance in the Soviet era when only a very limited number of varieties were permitted in the interests of volume rather than quality. Kisi was not among them and it survived in family vineyards in just three villages in its homeland of Kakheti, in the Alazani Valley in eastern Georgia in the shadow of the Caucasus Mountains: mainly in Maghraani but also in Argokhi and Pichkhovani. There are currently about 500 hectares (1,235 acres) of Kisi in Georgia, all still in this region. There is currently no DNA evidence to reveal the variety’s parentage but it is not related to Mtsvane Kakhuri or Rkatsiteli, the latter a Soviet favourite. Champions of Kisi In Georgia, ‘classic’ white wines are made in a way familiar to most 21st-century wine drinkers – fermented without the skins, typically in temperature-controlled tanks, occasionally fermented or aged in oak. By contrast, so-called qvevri white wines, sometimes referred to as amber wines because of their typically deep colour, are those vinified in traditional Georgian qvevri, large clay vessels ranging from 700 to 2,000 litres, buried underground so that just the opening is visible. The lightly crushed whole berries, including the skins and seeds, and sometimes even the stems, are fermented together in a qvevri, thus producing a wine with firm, even chewy, tannic texture and a wonderful panoply of flavours derived both from the variety and the winemaking, often ranging from apricots to chamomile. Soon after the appearance of Maisuradze’s revelatory wine, Gogi Dakishvili, a master of these qvevri wines, was able to buy a small amount of Kisi and make a wine in this second style. The cat was out of the bag and growers, including Dakishvili, started to replant when they saw the potential.  Kisi made under both the Dakishvili Family and the Orgo labels reveal all the textural and aromatic complexity of scented varieties made in this way. They are utterly pure, full-bodied wines with intense aromas and flavours that have sufficient structure to be very versatile with food. Qvevri winemaking was recognised as a UNESCO intangible heritage in 2013. While this is the style I particularly enjoy, for anyone who is not a fan of amber wines, there are fine examples that reveal even more of Kisi’s aromatic potential and deep but fresh fruit intensity. These include those from Winiveria and Khareba, and a particularly good off-dry style from Koncho & Co. One of the finest, in this case with light oak influence, is made by Danieli Winery, from vines near Argokhi, one of the three villages which were key to Kisi’s renaissance. Julia Harding MW
 This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue One.  Illustration by Sarah Jane Humphrey.

Wine Grapes co-authors, Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz, champion five lesser-known grape varieties from the book – and the winemakers that are using them to notable effect.

Wine Grapes co-authors Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz champion five lesser-known grape varieties – and the winemakers using them to notable effect

FONDATA: Raisins d'être

Raisins d'être

Exploring the world of eaux de vie with artisan distillers who are elevating the ancient harvest ritual to the realm of alchemy

Exploring the world of eaux de vie with Rochelt, Capreolus, Domaine Roulot and Capovilla, who are elevating the ancient harvest ritual to the realm of alchemy

FONDATA: The quest for distilled perfection - eaux de vie

Fruits of wonder: the quest for distilled perfection

2018 Ch. Mauvesin Barton (in jeroboam) + Champagne Elise Bougy, Le Mesnil – chosen by Damien Barton-Sartorius  “To me, a meal is always about a moment. Sometimes very important ones such as announcing a baby, sometimes it’s more casual as would be a meetup with friends. I like to think that the bottle should never be more important than the moment. It should not frustrate the generous person who wanted to share a special bottle that becomes overlooked – or even worse steals the show... Unless it is the show! The special bottle then becomes a moment of its own. It is an interesting thing (and sometimes fun!) to taste great labels blind, judge them on their value/pleasure. But it tears away what wine should be: excitement. If I am going to drink a Mouton Rothschild 1945, I honestly don’t really care if it’s good or not. It’s a piece of history in a bottle that I will be sharing with friends and I would really like to know this ahead of time so I can be excited about it for as long as possible. Just like planning holidays ahead!  “Christmas is an important moment but the moment is family, not the wine that will be put on the table. I want a wine that will trigger some chat. Briefly – before enjoying the wine as a lovely drink, fuel of diverse conversations. There should be enough of it to spend some time with it. Aim for large format. We all know that even a magnum can be short…  “To be very personal here, I just got married and I will spend my first Christmas Eve with my wife’s family. A bit of home, some volume to enjoy and share: Ch. Mauvesin Barton 2018 in jeroboam is my choice for dinner. Oh but what would Christmas be without Champagne… a sneaky bottle to share only with my wife before the dinner: Elise Bougy Le Mesnil. Now I am excited for Christmas!”  Damien Barton-Sartorius is the 10th generation of his family to run the Bartons’ Saint-Julien Classed Growth estates (Ch. Langoa Barton and Ch. Léoville Barton), while his sister Mélanie is at the helm of Ch. Mauvesin Barton, together continuing their grandfather Anthony’s and mother Lilian’s legacy. 2010 Ch. Latour, Pauillac – chosen by Jonathan Maltus  “We’re drinking Ch. Latour 2010. There are 10 of us – all family – two grandparents, four parents and the rest kids. As a family we don’t enjoy turkey so we have beef Wellington – which I’m hoping this will go well with.” Jonathan Maltus is the man behind the Saint-Emilion property Le Dôme, one of Bordeaux’s original garagistes. 2001 Richebourg, Grand Cru. Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat – chosen by Charles van Canneyt “For dinner, a Richebourg 2001. Perfect to drink now and taking full advantage of the complexity and power of a Richebourg – with a good capon! We had Suchots 2017 – all about the fruit – when we put up the tree, a vintage that’s approachable young and very enjoyable!”  Charles van Canneyt is one of Burgundy’s most talented winemakers. The young vigneron is at the helm of Domaine Hudelot-Noëllat, based in Chambolle-Musigny, and also has a négociant label under his own name.  2015 Ch. Haut-Bailly + 2019 Meursault, Les Vireuils, Domaine Roulot – chosen by Véronique Sanders “It’s so very difficult to choose just one bottle… while many people start their celebration with Champagne I always love to start (and finish) with a glass of Sauternes or Barsac. Right now I am loving Ch. Haut-Bailly 2015 which is so charming and is pure pleasure! Of course I also love wines outside of Bordeaux – white Burgundy being my weakness… I have my eye on a bottle of Domaine Roulot Meursault Les Vireuils to share with the family this year.”  Véronique Sanders is the powerhouse at the helm of Ch. Haut-Bailly, the leading Pessac-Léognan estate.  2018 Paul Cluver Estate Chardonnay, Elgin, South Africa – chosen by Spencer Fondaumiere  “I grew up in Nairobi at a time when the wine scene was not nearly as advanced as it is now. My mother enjoyed her wine. My dad was a beer man through and through. What was regularly available was wine sold in five-litre boxes labelled as ‘late harvest’, with just enough sweetness to interest you to get to the bottom of the bottle – or more accurately the last dredges of the cask. I have now lived in Cape Town for the last 11 years and my wine appreciation has grown a little bit beyond the voluminous late harvest on tap.  “Christmas is a time for family and my mom and dad will be spending the holidays with me and my family. Since I last saw her, Mom has developed an appreciation for cool-climate Chardonnay and I am quite keen to crack open this bottle that has a bit of age on it. I am hoping it will be like nothing she has ever tasted before and I am hoping even more that she will like it. Dad, on the other hand, remains partial to beer, but every Christmas I optimistically open a bottle and hope that this will be the wine that converts him into a wine lover. That being said, there is not too much 2018 Chardonnay hanging about so it may not be the worst thing if this doesn't turn out to be the one.”  Spencer Fondaumiere is one of the most exciting names on Africa’s wine scene. The Kenyan chef-turned-sommelier and serial entrepreneur is now Chairman of the South African Sommelier Association and has two businesses – using his expertise to advise wine-drinkers, restaurants and producers via Slowgold and Wineyard East Africa. A trio of Bouchard’s best – chosen by Frédéric Weber  “For Christmas with my family, I have planned a 2016 Meursault Genevrières to accompany the foie gras that my sister makes herself every year. I like the combination because our Genevrières has just the right freshness and delicacy, especially in 2016, to awaken the tastes and accompany the sweetness of foie gras seasoned with a touch of Sichuan pepper and a hint of fleur de sel, a great match! With the duck, of course a Beaune Grèves Vigne de l’Enfant Jésus 2003. Two-thousand-and-three was my first vintage in the house [at Bouchard], 20 years ago already, great memory of this harvest and Baby Jesus is a nice wink for Christmas Eve! And then a Corton 2013, my mum loves Le Corton and we don't refuse her anything.”  Frédéric Weber is the detail-oriented Head Winemaker at Bouchard, one of Burgundy’s leading, quality-focused producers and négociants. He has been at the company since 2002, taking over fully from his predecessor Philippe Prost from the 2014 vintage.  Champagne Corbon, Brut d'Autrefois, Avize (and a couple of back-up bottles) – chosen by Chris Gaither MS  “Christmas is always a special time of the year for my family. My wife, Rebecca (also a Master Sommelier), who is Jewish, always looks forward to the combo of Hanukkah and Christmas celebrations back-to-back, especially with our young daughters. We tend to favour multiple evenings of delicious food and drink that we can enjoy, albeit with moderation. And she and I rarely finish a bottle when drinking together at dinner, if it's only the two of us sipping. Surprised? It’s partially because we have two kids and run two businesses (Ungrafted and GluGlu), so work doesn’t stop even after dinner! So, on Christmas evening we'll be having a low-key 'Jewish' Christmas dinner, with a few other Jewish families. We are going to order Chinese food from one of our favourite restaurants in Millbrae (Wonderful is the name if you'd like to know), and chow down on some tasty dishes with a few of our favourite bottlings from producers we admire.  “Rebecca and I are huge fans of Champagne, and most times if you ever see us sipping on something together, it's usually just that. Champagne Corbon is a tiny grower based in the Vallée de la Marne (run by Agnès Corbon – ladies rule!), but they sell a good portion of their fruit from their vineyards there. They own two hectares of vineyards in Avize, of which they use to produce most of their wines. The Brut d'Autrefois is based on a 35-plus-year-old perpetual reserve (or solera) that is roughly based on 90% Chardonnay and 10% Pinot Noir. The solera consists of a single neutral oak vat that is 50% drained each year for bottlings of D'Autrefois, and then refreshed with a new year's vintage. Delicious, exuding a bit of richness, with nice texture, and loads of complexity. We were fortunate enough to get a few bottles of these, and I think we'll be drinking the last one we have... for now... The other bottles are ‘just in case’ bottles that we love.  “2018 Domaine Weinbach, Riesling Schlossberg, Grand Cru, Alsace: Who doesn't like Riesling? Any sommelier with street cred will tell you to drink more Riesling – it's routinely underappreciated in the world of wine, and you can get fantastic examples that are made with the same care as Grand Cru wines in other regions, but at less than half the price. Weinbach is one of our favourite domaines within Alsace, and it is currently run by Catherine Faller (again, shoutout to all the ladies making the magic happen in wine!) and her sons, Eddy and Theo. This Riesling is coming from their holdings in Schlossberg, the first Grand Cru to be ratified in Alsace in 1975. The wine almost always has a deftly balanced touch of botrytis, with lovely bruised apple and peach, with a very noticeable meyer lemon twang on the finish.   “2011 Fixin, Premier Cru, Clos de la Perrière, Domaine Joliet Père & Fils: This particular vineyard is a monopole within the village of Fixin, and this bottling is 100% Pinot Noir. It is run by Bénigne Joliet, who purchased the vineyard from his other family members in 2004, with the goal of making the Clos de la Perrière one of the more famous vineyards in the Côte de Nuits in Burgundy. Rebecca had the opportunity to visit the estate and meet Bénigne back in 2014 on a visit. She purchased the bottle of 2011 Clos de la Perrière on this trip. I’m super excited to drink it with her! She’s great at putting bottles away and not touching them!”  Chris Gaither MS was born in Atlanta and started working in hospitality to help pay the bills while at college. He gradually fell into the wine side, becoming hooked and – after a stage at The French Laundry in 2008 – launched into San Francisco’s wine scene, working at top restaurants and earning various awards. He became the fourth black person to pass the Master Sommelier exam when he passed in 2022. Married to a fellow Master Sommelier, Rebecca Fineman, together they own and run two restaurant/wine bars, Ungrafted and Glu Glu, in San Francisco. 2003 Chinon, Les Roches, Domaine Alain & Jérôme Lenoir – chosen by Ivan Massonat  “Of the (many) bottles I intend to open, one is high on my expectation scale: a 2003 Chinon from Domaine Lenoir. It’s a bare bottle, without any label nor cap, that I bought from Jérôme [Lenoir] a couple of years ago, after a few hours of tasting down in his ‘cellar of wonders’. After tasting several decades, 2003 had struck me as super fresh and elegant, like magically untouched by the famous 2003 summer heatwave in France. I would like to open it for New Year’s Eve, with one my best friends from high school who’s also a wine lover – and not a label drinker!” Ivan Massonat is the ex-financier that created Domaine Belargus, the Anjou estate that has fast become one of the Loire’s most famous, shining a light on its varied terroir through a single grape – Chenin Blanc. Stellar Spanish and South American bottles – chosen by Carlos de Carlos  “This year we have some cousins from the USA that will come home for Christmas evening and dinner. As they come to try some good South American wines, I will drive them around some of my all-time favourites for dinner. So the selection will be: Baettig Los Primos Chardonnay 2021 for the aperitivo. A wine that shows the very best of the south of Chile with a finesse and minerality that I love. Then Viña Cobos Chanares Malbec 2018 – one of my favourite wines in Argentina coming from Los Arboles in Tunuyán, Valle de Uco. Really special vintage from a really unique vineyard! And the grand finale will be Vega Sicilia Unico Reserva Especial 2008-2009-2010 [the 2020 release] – not only because the wine itself, but also because it was a very special present for my birthday that a very close friend gave me… and will be tasted alongside my favourite dish, Spanish paella.” The charming Carlos de Carlos is one of the founders of Baettig, along with winemaker Francisco Baettig, a Chilean producer that is one of our favourites. A flight of Champagne, Burgundy and Bordeaux – chosen by Blandine de Brier Manoncourt  “This Christmas my family will begin with a fabulous Champagne, Laurent Perrier’s Grand Siècle Itération No. 26, which we will enjoy as an apéritif around the tree. At the table, our dinner will begin with Corton-Charlemagne from our dear friend Stéphane Follin-Arbelet, the 2008 vintage, which will pair perfectly with a lobster dish. Next is, of course, Figeac! First the 2010 vintage of Ch. Figeac – it is magnificent right now, and goes very well with truffled capon. Finally we will enjoy our favourite vintage of Ch. Figeac, the 1990. We wish everyone a very happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year!”  Blandine de Brier Manoncourt is daughter of the iconic Thierry Manoncourt who established Figeac’s modern reputation. Having studied at Sciences Po Bordeaux, she is Co-owner and General Secretary, especially involved in managing the property’s heritage.  2001 Ch. Figeac – chosen by Frédéric Faye  “My family is very excited this year to serve one of my favourite vintages of Ch. Figeac at our Christmas dinner, the 2001. This is a vintage in its full maturity, a vintage which sadly is often overlooked by wine-lovers but is in fact one of the great references of the property. Fresh, elegant, with a beautiful concentration… it will pair perfectly with ris de veau in a sauce à la morille. Wishing a happy Christmas and New Year to you and your families!”  Frédéric Faye is Managing Director of Ch. Figeac, where he has been working for over two decades, having arrived as an intern in 2002. Blanquette de Limoux, Antech, Brut Nature – chosen by Christina Stanley  “I share a holiday tradition of sipping bubbles with my mum while cooking, before any guests or family arrive. My dad suffered a stroke back in 2014, and she is his caretaker. Last year, when she tasted Varnier-Fannière Blanc de Blancs, she said, “This tastes like every good time I have ever had,” but Champagne is not what we drink while cooking. You know what’s great with a splash of orange juice? Antech Blanquette de Limoux Brut Nature. It has delightfully bright, lemony acidity, an abundance of chalky minerality, and it’s inexpensive. The main grape is Mauzac, locally known as ‘Blanquette’. Wonderful as a versatile aperitif and perfect as a Mimosa base, Blanquette de Limoux plays a starring role in any holiday gathering.”  Christina Stanley is an Advanced Sommelier and the Wine Director at The Slanted Door Napa – an outpost of Charles Phan’s group of legendary restaurants that are a reference point for fine dining and modern Vietnamese food. 2008 Merlot, Miani, Colli Orientali del Friuli – chosen by Michele Dal Forno  “I think I would pick a Merlot from Miani. Enzo, the owner, is truly the ‘last of Mohicans’ of vignerons in Italy, as he is seriously devoted to his vines and the wines he makes are a pure expression of each varietal he grows. I was lucky enough to taste many of his wines last summer with himself and some other friends and I was shocked by the genuineness of them all. In particular the Merlot 2008 was so fresh and rich that I was literally blown away when I tasted it. If you want to understand how an authentic Merlot should taste, Miani is the one.”  Michele Dal Forno is one of Romano Dal Forno’s sons, founder of the legendary eponymous Valpolicella estate  1988 Ch. Montelena, Napa – chosen by Maya Dalla Valle   “After a fantastic 2023 harvest, we are relaxing and celebrating this holiday season. At our most recent team holiday dinner we decided to open a magnum of 1988 Ch. Montelena to commemorate the successes of the 2023 growing season and vintage. With the recent passing of Mike Grgich, it was also an homage to one of the great winemakers of Napa. The wine was stunning, and well appreciated by all of us as red wine producers.”  Having travelled and made wine around the world, Maya Dalla Valle returned to Napa in 2017 to make wine with her mother Naoko at Dalla Valle, as well as embarking on a new project in collaboration with Ornellaia, DVO. 2016 Champagne Henriot, L’Inattendue – chosen by Stefan Neumann MS  “Expect the ‘unexpected’! Henriot’s single expression of Avize called L’Inattendue (translating literally as ‘the unexpected’) from the 2016 vintage is something I look forward to sharing with my family on Christmas Day. Full of energy, this pure Chardonnay gives me on the one hand the comforting softness of spiced pear and golden apple, but on the other hand the razor-sharp freshness of lemon and orange peel. This, in front of the family’s Kachelofen (tiled ceramic stove), paired with a freshly cured trout, might sound simple yet is heaven to me. If life has taught me one thing – you can’t beat an old-time classic.”  Austrian-born Master Sommelier Stefan Neumann cut his teeth at restaurants in Vienna and Salzburg before moving to the UK. He’s worked at many of Britain’s most illustrious establishments, most recently on the floor at The Fat Duck. Today he works as a consultant, using his extensive expertise to advise clients and companies. Explore more Editorial 

There’s no better time than Christmas to crack open a bottle of something special. We asked some of the biggest names in the industry – from top sommeliers to superstar winemakers – to tell us what they’re uncorking this year, and why

We asked some of the biggest names in the wine industry – from top sommeliers to superstar winemakers – to tell us what they’re uncorking this year, and why 

What the wine world is drinking this Christmas 

What those in the industry are drinking this Christmas

I am too disorganised to call myself a collector, but I often find myself thinking about the multiple meanings of collecting. I have a room full of books left unread from one year to the next, whose mute reproach I feel every time I am in their presence. I have half a dozen radios, from Marco Zanuso and Richard Sapper’s folding Brionvega TS502 to a Danish-made Beolit 707 from Bang & Olufsen, with its slide rule tuning device. I have a manual typewriter.  Most of us accumulate such random clutter. These were never possessions that were primarily about being useful – the Brionvega and the Beolit have long since been supplanted by a bluetooth speaker and a smartphone. They represent my membership of the design tribe.  The books carry other layers of meaning. My five years at university are on one shelf. The traces of the eight years I have spent writing a just-completed biography of Boris Iofan – Josef Stalin’s preferred architect – are spelled out in the titles of the books on another shelf. The typewriter was inherited from my father and it serves to remind me of childhood. The closest that I come to having a collection that a serious collector might acknowledge is in my chairs: a Rover chair that Ron Arad salvaged from a car, a Gio Ponti Superlegera, an Eames Lounger, a Harry Bertoia, George Sowden’s Palace chair from the 1983 Memphis collection and a deconstructed armchair designed by Rei Kawakubo. On a larger or smaller scale, humans develop complex relationships with their possessions that can go from the professionalism of full-blown collecting, to the casual significance of a row of junk shop finds on a mantlepiece. They can tell us a lot about ourselves. Marina Warner’s guide to the house in Hampstead, now run as a museum, in which Sigmund Freud spent the last year of his life, offers an arresting insight into the significance that collecting had for him. She describes the ranks of ancient bronze, ceramic and marble figures parading across the desk that Freud brought with him to London from Vienna where he no longer felt safe due to Nazi occupation in 1938. Certainly, they are beautiful, and mostly they are precious. Thanks to their association with Freud, even the few that have been established as 20th-century forgeries will have become valuable. Some are almost 4,000 years old and reflect the religious and political practices of the distant past. Others, such as Freud’s art deco cigar case, come less freighted with history. But as Warner says, “they were also tools of thought, the kitchen utensils of his imagination”.   The batterie de cuisine of psychoanalysis included Egyptian coffin masks from the Roman period, Chinese jade and gold brooches, Roman glass, a 2,500-year-old sphinx, sarcophagus lids, Babylonian cylinder seals and Egyptian heart scarabs, as well as a 19th-century neck rest from New Guinea, modern metal porcupines, and Balinese figures. The pieces in pride of place on his desk, placed in apparently random order, were his special favourites, a tiny fraction of his collection that had become permanent fixtures. From time to time, Freud made space for a few new acquisitions to get a look in. “A collection to which there are no new additions is really dead,” he told his biographer Ernest Jones. After a short interval, most of the new things would be moved into the glass-fronted cabinets positioned around his study, where they were placed in more organised groups than those standing on his desk. Greek sculptures went on a shelf together. A cluster of representations of the Egyptian god Horus were grouped on another.  In Freud’s lifetime, the collection was continually changing. Before his move to London, he toured Vienna’s antiquities dealers almost every week on the look-out for new finds. He was ready to exchange pieces for items he could not afford to buy, and was generous in gifting pieces to friends and pupils he thought would appreciate them. Freud also had no qualms about buying items that came on the market in questionable circumstances, in particular, from the unofficial excavations (sometime after 1906) at a Roman fort in Hungary.   Despite the important part it played in his life, Freud wrote very little about collecting. The nearest that he came to spelling out what drove his interest in fragments of ancient sculpture, was when he compared his own exploration of the unconscious minds of his patients to an archaeological excavation of an ancient city. “The psychoanalyst, like the archaeologist, must uncover layer after layer of the patient’s psyche before coming to the deepest, most valuable treasures.”  Freud was known to share his dining table with choice specimens to act as companions during a meal. “I must always have an object to love”, he confessed to his colleague and rival Carl Jung. When he was writing his book The Interpretation of Dreams in 1895, Freud spent the summer at Schloss Bellevue outside Vienna. He took a selection of what he called “my old grubby gods who take part in the works as paperweights for the manuscripts” with him.  Before Freud left Austria for England in 1938, his desk, his consulting room, and his study at Berggasse 19 were photographed by Edmund Engelman. Engelman’s 150 images helped Freud’s architect son Ernst to transpose the desk and its contents from a dark back room in a Viennese apartment to a sunlit Hampstead villa.  Like most collectors, Freud could never limit himself to a single field. Ronald Lauder the former MoMA chairman, for example, is known for the collection of Viennese modernism that forms the basis for his own museum, the Neue Galerie in New York. He also collects (in depth) in 15 other fields with little apparent connection between them. Lauder is fascinated by the work of the Japanese designer Shiro Kuramata. He has a collection of arms and armour going back to The Crusades, and another of World War Two memorabilia. He owns some of Egon Schiele’s finest works, as well as various 18th-century French artworks. Fellow collector Rolf Fehlbaum (head of Vitra) has one of the largest collections of modern chairs in the world, and gave Frank Gehry his first European commission to design a gallery for it, but he is equally fascinated by toy robots manufactured in Japan since 1937. He calls them tiny kinetic sculptures. Where possible, he acquires their original packaging too. Perhaps the best way to understand the psychology of collecting is to see it as a spectrum. At one end, it is about order and control. In a messy and uncontrollable universe, a collection offers at least a semblance of certainty. A collection of this kind is based on provenance, completeness and authenticity. An over-restored vintage Bugatti is less desirable to a collector than one in original condition.  Every previous owner, every detail of its making forms part of its record. A red Olivetti typewriter designed by Ettore Sottsass that once belonged to David Bowie was sold at Sotheby’s for US$65,000. You can buy one (that hasn’t been owned by Bowie) for US$750, which is still a lot of money for a piece of obsolete technology. Some collectors attempt to make patterns from the things that they acquire or, like jigsaw puzzlers, set out to complete a picture by locating every piece of a set. Some try to document the evolution of a species whether the subject of their interest is biscuit tins or the eggs of a particular type of bird. Some forms of collecting require the active engagement of the collector. Wildflowers need to be picked and dried quickly before they are pressed into a book. Butterfly collectors used macabre methods such as poison jars, or squeezing the thorax, to dispatch their prey without causing so much distress that they risk damaging delicate wings. At the other end of the spectrum, the accumulation of stuff by people who die alone in homes overwhelmed by stacks of ancient newspapers and tins of cat food, is a kind of sickness. It’s a condition that can overwhelm even the most celebrated of artists. In the last 17 years of his life, Andy Warhol filled a succession of cardboard boxes with a seemingly random accumulation of objects: taxi receipts, a vinyl Ramones single signed by Joey Ramone, a piece of an ancient, mummified foot, pastel-coloured corsets and a selection of metal dentures. Every time he had a full box, it was sealed and shipped off to storage in a warehouse in New Jersey. A typical box has 400 objects in it, some have as many as 1,200. Items in them include a piece of Caroline Kennedy’s wedding cake – Warhol seems to have been a regular guest at Kennedy weddings. He showed up 20 minutes after the wedding ceremony for Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger had started, in the company of Grace Jones. He was in black leather, and wearing two wigs; she had on a huge green fur hat.   Warhol’s boxes are a collection of the uncollectable and the uncontrollable, which, thanks to the resources of the Andy Warhol Foundation, has been tamed after six years of work by a dedicated group of archivists and cataloguers. The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh has aestheticised the cardboard boxes. They sit on back-lit shelves in the museum to suggest that this is not a random collection of trash that Warhol never looked at, but, in the view of the museum, is in fact a time-based art piece, comprising at least 500,000 objects that took 30 years to complete. It presents a considerably less impressive sight than British Regency period architect Sir John Soane’s museum. The architect of the Bank of England put as much effort into adapting his Lincoln’s Inn Fields house (and subsequently the two adjoining houses) to display his Hogarth paintings, a sarcophagus and his architectural models, as he did to accumulating the collection itself. The Nobel prize-winning Turkish writer Orhan Pamuk’s novel, The Museum of Innocence is an eloquent exploration of the hoarding end of the collecting spectrum. What initially appears to be an account of a doomed love affair, quickly reveals itself as an exploration of the meaning of collecting. The story’s main protagonist Kemal starts acquiring things when his relationship with his lover Füsun is going well. When she drops an earring, he finds it and puts it to one side. As Füsun falls out of love with him, Kemal begins an increasingly desperate accumulation of objects that record their relationship. He picks up each of the cigarettes that she smokes. When she has stopped seeing him altogether, Kemal starts hanging around at her parents’ house and stealing pieces of cutlery that she might have used.  What makes Pamuk’s book particularly remarkable is that he acquired a house in Istanbul’s Beyoğlu district that had belonged to a Greek merchant in the Ottoman era, and transformed it into a physical Museum of Innocence. It is, of course, very far from innocent; everything inside it is a lovingly created fiction. The first thing that you see once you get inside, is a wall covered with 4,213 cigarette ends, each of them carefully annotated in Pamuk’s neat handwriting, with imaginary details of the time and place they were smoked. The rest of the house is full of equally carefully fabricated objects from cosmetics to movie posters that reflect Pamuk’s vision of the modernising Turkey of the 1970s. “I think getting attached to objects happens in traumatic times and love is a trauma,” Pamuk once said. “Perhaps when they are in trouble, people hoard things.”  When Pamuk gave me a tour of his museum, he told me about meeting Warhol’s archivist, and expressed his reservations about the significance of the boxes in Pittsburgh. “Hoarding objects reaches the level of collecting only when there is a story that unites them,” he said. But that is a novelist criticising another, less narrative art form. While Freud’s desk in Hampstead was always useable, if overcrowded, the desk in fashion designer Paul Smith’s office in Covent Garden is completely overwhelmed with a snowdrift of collected objects that sweeps over an office chair, down onto the floor, and back up to the shelves that line every wall. There are stacks of books and magazines, cameras and mountains of vintage cycling jerseys. There is an i-Mac computer, a gift from Jony Ive that Smith has never used. Computers aren’t Smith’s thing. In any case, it’s too late now, short of purging half the contents of the room: there is no way to get near it. There are toy tin cars, collections of bottles from Moroccan markets, a pink bicycle and a lot of rabbits. “I once said in an interview that seeing a rabbit brings me luck, and they haven’t stopped pouring in ever since,” explains Smith. Collecting began, as did so many things in Smith’s career, with his early enthusiasm for cycling. Growing up in Nottingham in the 1950s, there was a newsagent which occasionally had a copy of L’Equipe, which would portray the heroes of the Tour de France in their yellow jerseys in colour on the cover, but in sepia inside. He bought the magazine, fascinated by the images, even if he couldn’t read it. “I can remember once saying, ‘I really like Jacques Anquetil’ to my father, which baffled him, since none of our family had ever been abroad. I saved my pocket money so that I could upgrade the gears on my bike from Simplex to Campagnolo. The box it came in was as important to me as the gear itself.”  What attracted Smith to the Campagnolo box, along with stamps and matchboxes which he has in large numbers – not just in his office but at his Nottingham HQ where he has an archivist trying to make sense of it all – is the way that designers can say so much in such a tiny space. He showed me a Japanese book of matches produced for a Tokyo nightclub in the 1970s. “It so clearly says it’s ‘contemporary’. You can hear the jazz already.”  Despite the huge assortment of assembled objects, Smith is reluctant to describe himself as a collector. “I just have a large quantity of the same things,” he says, matter of factly. “In my head, a collector is someone who selects an item or a subject. They collect them because they know a lot about them. Maybe I have a little knowledge about cycling jerseys.  In the early 1980s, on my first trips to Japan and India, I just got a bit carried away. I bought lots of Japanese furniture. In India, for some reason, I bought 15 wardrobes, and a piece of furniture that doubled as a staircase with drawers.” Smith had them all sent home on the Trans-Siberian Express.  He suggests that his is a collection that has found him. “Things collect me,” he says. “For some reason I started to be sent things, and they still keep coming.” There is an individual who regularly sends Smith artefacts that come unwrapped but covered in postage stamps. Others send him letters, toys, books and even ancient packets of razor blades. One visitor took careful photographs of his office, and later sent him a precisely detailed model of his office, complete with its chaotic contents. Smith’s London home, where he lives with his wife Pauline, is much calmer. “The house is hers. I do have one room for my stuff, but it’s mostly at the office that I get to look at things.” In 1996, patron of the arts and barrister Jill Ritblat gave the V&A Museum the largest single donation of clothes in its history, more than 1,000 items. There are ski outfits in postmodern pastel shades from the 1980s, and challenging Japanese experiments from Yohji Yamamoto and Issey Miyake, as well as couture from Dior and Saint Laurent. There is work by Alexander McQueen, Biba, Mary Quant, and Christian Lacroix, Emanuel Ungaro and Victor Edelstein, and an evening outfit produced by a dressmaker based on an idea of Ritblat’s own design.  The early days of British fashion from the 1960s are represented by Foale and Tuffin, and Zandra Rhodes, and from the 1980s by Margaret Howell and Katharine Hamnett. There is tailoring from Tommy Nutter and work by Giorgio Armani. It is by no means a complete account of contemporary fashion, but it is certainly extensive, and like the personal wardrobe that it is, combines some very special pieces made for family occasions, with more everyday wear. The connecting thread of Ritblat’s collection is Ritblat herself. These were all pieces that she had bought to wear. They were not chosen like stamps, or old masters, or celadon vases to make a self-conscious collection, but were the result of a continuing sequence of choices over time. Taken together they are a reflection of her life as an English woman of a certain background, at a particular time in the country’s history. “I never saw it as a collection, it was more like my diary, though I have never had time to write a diary. Each piece brings back memories of when I wore it,” says Ritblat. She made her first donation to the V&A at the end of 1996, but kept back the things that she wanted to be able to go on using, and they formed the core of a donation to the Design Museum of another 400 items in 2013. Ritblat is ambivalent about fashion. As a child she was somewhat self-conscious about being dressed by her mother, who had studied fashion herself. She was relieved to be able to assume the camouflage of the complex uniform rituals of an English public school for girls in the 1950s. “I loved my school uniform at Roedean; we were expected to change our clothes four times a day, as chic as anything. Scratchy afternoon dresses, regulation school loafers, very nice blazers and pleated skirts.” As a student barrister, she found herself adopting the formal uniform of the legal profession, but then as a married woman began to build a wardrobe that reflected the life that she was leading. Later, when she was making her own choices, she was early to discover Miuccia Prada. “What you pick out is based on whether it suits you and on the zeitgeist,” she explains. Smith, Heseltine and Ritblat represent three very different approaches to collecting. For Smith, the unruly mountain of things in his office, is, like the collection on Sigmund Freud’s desk, part of the tools of his imagination, a source of imagery and ideas for his work as a designer. It’s also a means of establishing his personality. Heseltine’s garden is an investment of time, resources and creativity in the remaking of a place that speaks to the future using living organisms that will outlive us all. Ritblat’s clothes are a record of the full life of an individual. All of these collections provide insights into unique people, their lives and times. In their different ways all three reflect on the nature of collecting, and its ability to be a creative activity in itself. In a world in which technology threatens to abolish the material world altogether, objects have not lost their allure. Their physical condition marks the passing of time in ways that pixels and code cannot do. Collecting is the means all of us have to create histories of our times, and even more, of ourselves. This article was originally published in FONDATA, Issue Two. 

In order to explore the mindset of the collector, Deyan Sudjic shines a light on the collected objects of Sigmund Freud and Andy Warhol, and speaks to three British collectors to better understand what it is that makes collecting such a vital part of the human experience.

Exploring the mindset of the collector and why the act is a vital part of the human experience, with a focus on Sigmund Freud and Andy Warhol

FONDATA: Exploring the art of collecting 

 I Collect, Therefore I Am

Turley

Account

Il Suo accesso è limitato a causa della Sua età.

Accesso vietato

Deve avere l'età legale per visualizzare questa pagina. Verifichi la sua età per accedere.

Ha l'età legale per acquistare alcolici?

A causa della quantità richiesta per la consegna, consigliamo di utilizzare una spedizione tramite terzi. Se procedi con la nostra spedizione, potrebbe esserci un ritardo rispetto alla data di spedizione selezionata.

A causa della quantità richiesta per la consegna, consigliamo di utilizzare una spedizione tramite terzi. Se procedi con la nostra spedizione, non potrai definire una data di spedizione e ti contatteremo per organizzare la consegna.

La tua richiesta dordine verrà annullata. Sei sicuro di voler procedere?

A causa della quantità richiesta per il ritiro, potrebbe esserci un ritardo nel soddisfare la data di ritiro richiesta.

A causa della quantità richiesta per il ritiro, non è possibile definire una data di ritiro in questa fase. Il nostro team si coordinerà con il magazzino e ti contatterà direttamente per confermare una data di ritiro adeguata.

Questo articolo è stato messo in vendita da un collezionista ed è disponibile per lo stoccaggio o per la consegna immediata

Per ordini di alto valore consigliamo la spedizione con un corriere terzo. Gli articoli spediti tramite terzi rimarranno in OWC fascettate.

A causa della quantità richiesta, non potrai selezionare una data di ritiro. Ti preghiamo di inviare la richiesta e ci coordineremo con il nostro magazzino per confermare direttamente con te la data di ritiro.

A causa della quantità richiesta, non è possibile procedere con l'acquisto. Ti preghiamo di selezionare un servizio di terze parti oppure di modificare la quantità (è consentito un massimo di 48 pezzi).

A causa della quantità richiesta, non sarà possibile selezionare una data di spedizione al checkout. Ti preghiamo di inviare la richiesta e ci coordineremo con il nostro magazzino per confermare direttamente con te la data di consegna.

Fino a 499 bottiglie in deposito, la tariffa è di 39¢/bottiglia al mese oppure un addebito mensile minimo di 50 $ (copre fino a 142 bottiglie). Per oltre 500 bottiglie, la tariffa di stoccaggio è di 35¢/bottiglia al mese.

Lo stoccaggio viene addebitato a 40 HKD per cassa da 12 bottiglie al mese. Si applica una tariffa minima mensile di stoccaggio di 80 HKD, che copre fino a 24 bottiglie.

Tariffa di stoccaggio standard

Selezionando la spedizione tramite terzi, ti assumi la piena responsabilità del rispetto di tutte le normative e autorizzi Vinfolio a trasferire gli articoli alla parte indicata nelle tue istruzioni. Gli articoli spediti tramite terzi rimarranno nel loro imballaggio originale.

Gli orari di ritiro sono tra le 8:30 e le 12:00 e tra le 13:30 e le 16:30, dal lunedì al venerdì. I vini al Will Call che non vengono ritirati entro 10 giorni lavorativi saranno trasferiti in deposito e soggetti a una tariffa di stoccaggio di 1,50 $ per bottiglia.

Gli articoli verranno reperiti e spediti al nostro deposito di vini all'avanguardia per la migliore conservazione possibile, dove potrai organizzare il ritiro presso il nostro indirizzo di magazzino a Napa.

Ritiro in sede (Napa)

Hai inserito la password errata troppe volte. Il tuo account è stato temporaneamente bloccato. Attendi cinque minuti prima di riprovare.

Sembra che tu stia visitando da {country}, ti invitiamo a scoprire il nostro sito {nationality}.

Stai navigando da {country}?

Non siamo in grado di elaborare il tuo ordine se contiene sia biglietti per eventi sia un prodotto vinicolo o un distillato nella stessa transazione. Per procedere, rimuovi dal carrello i biglietti dell’evento oppure il prodotto. Potrai quindi completare l’acquisto.

Controlla il tuo carrello

Password dimenticata

Siamo nelle fasi finali dellaggiornamento alla nostra nuova piattaforma di trading. Come parte di questa transizione, stiamo attualmente migrando tutti gli inventari di proprietà dei clienti per garantire unesperienza fluida e senza interruzioni.

La nostra nuova e migliorata piattaforma sarà pronta per te venerdì 4 aprile.

Grazie per la tua pazienza — non vediamo lora di mostrarti cosa arriverà.

Ops, qualcosa è andato storto

Non abbiamo trovato nulla da mostrare qui.

Non abbiamo trovato alcun risultato da mostrare qui.

Si prega di notare: potrebbero essere applicati costi di consegna, dazi e IVA

Il nostro sito è temporaneamente in manutenzione.

Modalità manutenzione

La pre-autorizzazione di un metodo di pagamento consente al tuo Account Manager di effettuare pagamenti per tuo conto, senza verifica del pagamento.

Pre-autorizza

Questa transazione è stata bloccata per un errore di autenticazione.

Errore di autenticazione

La tua carta di pagamento è scaduta. Controlla i dati e riprova.

Carta scaduta

Fondi insufficienti per saldare l'importo. Controlla i dati e riprova.

Fondi insufficienti

Questa transazione è stata bloccata dal fornitore di pagamenti per possibile attività fraudolenta.

Transazione bloccata

Scegli un metodo di pagamento diverso e riprova.

Errore sconosciuto

mostra tutti gli articoli che attualmente conservi con noi. Questi articoli possono essere venduti, consegnati o trasferiti.

Presso {shortName}

La tua allocazione verrà annullata. Sei sicuro di voler continuare?

Il tuo articolo pre-ordinato verrà eliminato. Sei sicuro di voler continuare?

La tua richiesta di consegna verrà annullata. Sei sicuro di voler procedere?

rappresenta tutti i vini che sono in tuo possesso e che sono stati consumati.

Questo è il prezzo che hai pagato per questo articolo.

Prezzo di costo

Dopo aver aggiunto il nuovo indirizzo, verrai reindirizzato a questa pagina.

Crea un nuovo indirizzo

La tua notifica verrà eliminata. Sei sicuro di voler continuare?

Il prezzo minimo al quale sei disposto a vendere. Se il prezzo di listino scende al di sotto di questo valore, la tua inserzione verrà rimossa.

mostra tutti gli articoli che hai pre-ordinato, inclusi i vini en primeur, e tutti gli articoli nella tua watchlist.

Futures

È possibile impostare un prezzo minimo per gli articoli in vendita basato su una percentuale del valore netto unitario attuale.

Puoi impostare un prezzo di mercato per gli articoli che stai vendendo basato su una percentuale del valore netto unitario corrente.

mostra tutte le azioni che hai effettuato sugli articoli nel tuo Portafoglio.

raggruppa ogni azione per tipo - Acquisto, Vendita, Consegna e Trasferimento in entrata - così è chiaro a colpo d'occhio cosa è successo a ciascun articolo.

Storico

mostra tutti gli articoli attualmente in transito da o verso {shortName}.

In transito

La consegna locale è gratuita per ordini superiori a 1.800 HK$ (in un'unica destinazione). Per ordini inferiori a questo importo, la consegna costa 150 HK$ fino a quattro casse e 50 HK$ per ogni cassa aggiuntiva.

Le spedizioni partono da €15 in Italia e da €45 verso la Svizzera e il resto d’Europa per un massimo di 48 bottiglie (75 cl). I costi variano in base alla destinazione. Per spedizioni più grandi è possibile richiedere un preventivo.

La data indicata di seguito è quella in cui il tuo ordine verrà spedito dal nostro magazzino locale. La data di consegna finale, insieme ai dettagli completi di tracciamento, ti verrà fornita una volta che il nostro team avrà elaborato la tua richiesta.

Puoi organizzare il ritiro presso il nostro negozio al 22° piano, 8 Wyndham Street, Central Hong Kong.
Gli orari di ritiro sono dalle 9:30 alle 18:00, da lunedì a venerdì.

Puoi organizzare il ritiro presso il nostro magazzino STI INTERNAZIONALE SPA, in Viale del Lavoro 57, 37051 Bovolone, Verona.
Gli orari di ritiro sono dalle 8:30 alle 12:30 e dalle 13:30 alle 17:30, dal lunedì al venerdì. Siamo chiusi nei giorni festivi.

Questo è il valore di mercato stimato attuale per questo articolo.

I prezzi impostati manualmente verranno sovrascritti. I vini già inseriti non sono interessati.

Aggiorna tutti i vini non inseriti al prezzo di mercato corrente.

Imposta tutto al prezzo di mercato

rappresenta tutti i vini attualmente presenti nel tuo Portafoglio che non sono conservati con noi. Premi l'icona

La mia cantina

Nome

Prezzo netto

Nuovo portafoglio disponibile

Nuovo portafoglio

Non hai alcuna fattura in questo momento.

mostra tutti gli articoli del tuo Portafoglio che sono attualmente sul mercato.

In vendita

mostra tutti gli articoli attualmente presenti nel tuo Portafoglio. Da questa pagina puoi eseguire azioni individuali su di essi.

Panoramica

mostra tutti gli articoli attualmente in attesa di un'azione da parte dell'utente.

In sospeso

Questo è il prezzo di mercato dinamico dell'articolo al netto del margine di negoziazione.

Questo è l'importo del profitto che riceverai se la tua inserzione verrà venduta.

I pagamenti pre-autorizzati consentono transazioni automatiche per tuo conto, garantendo pagamenti fluidi e senza complicazioni. Questo permette di elaborare addebiti ricorrenti, abbonamenti o pagamenti programmati senza approvazione manuale ogni volta.

Il numero di casse che desideri mettere in vendita

Il tuo articolo del catalogo verrà archiviato. Sei sicuro di voler continuare?

I tuoi articoli del catalogo verranno archiviati. Sei sicuro di voler continuare?

Prima di richiedere la consegna, puoi modificare la quantità per ciascun articolo nella tua selezione qui sotto.

*Il prezzo di mercato è dinamico e può variare. Al momento della vendita, dal prezzo finale sarà detratta una commissione di negoziazione del 10%.

Prezzo di mercato totale*

Il prezzo fisso personalizzato al quale desideri vendere ciascun articolo.

Dividi in {caseSize} singole bottiglie da {bottleSize}cl.

Titolo

mostra tutti gli articoli che attualmente conservi con noi. Questi articoli possono essere venduti.

Disponibili per la vendita — gli articoli conservati con {name} sono idonei per essere inseriti nel marketplace.

Profilo

Questo articolo si trova presso FINE+RARE.

Questo articolo si trova presso FINE+RARE HOME Hong Kong, ed è disponibile per la consegna o il ritiro in sede. La maggior parte delle consegne a Hong Kong può essere effettuata entro 3 giorni lavorativi; la data esatta sarà comunicata al momento dell'organizzazione della consegna. Le consegne internazionali richiedono tempi più lunghi, ti preghiamo di contattarci per maggiori dettagli.

I vini venduti en primeur saranno rilasciati dal produttore dopo limbottigliamento, tipicamente 18 mesi dopo la fine della cosiddetta campagna. Il tuo vino sarà poi conservato da FINE+RARE in un deposito doganale fino a quando deciderai di richiederne la consegna.

Ci riforniremo di questo articolo al prezzo garantito dalla nostra rete di fornitori e organizzeremo una spedizione rapida a FINE+RARE.
 I tempi di consegna dipendono da molte variabili, ma in genere per un approvvigionamento rapido sono 2-4 settimane.
 Una volta confermato l'ordine, ti terremo aggiornato sulla data di arrivo prevista.
 Ogni articolo viene controllato all'arrivo dal nostro team di esperti e le fotografie sono disponibili su richiesta (si prega di notare che potrebbero essere applicati dei costi).

Reperiremo questo articolo attraverso la nostra rete di fornitori e ne organizzeremo la spedizione a FINE+RARE.
 I tempi di consegna dipendono da molte variabili, ma una stima media è di 6-12 settimane.
 Una volta confermato lordine, ti terremo aggiornato sulla data di arrivo prevista.
 Ogni articolo viene controllato al momento della ricezione dal nostro team di esperti, con fotografie disponibili su richiesta (si prega di notare che potrebbero essere applicati dei costi).

Turley

Filtro

Attendere prego

Articoli correlati