By Nick Stock
Ladies and gentlemen, the Riesling
revolution will not be televised. Sauvignon Blanc reality TV is on every screen
and we could waste our lives waiting for that to change. If you were lucky
enough to attend the 2004 Frankland Estate International Riesling Tasting in
Melbourne earlier this year you’ll know the feeling I’m talking about. With
just 0.63% of the global vineyard area planted to Riesling, fans of this most
noble white grape are perhaps better off quietly enjoying the stuff and the
value it represents.
MC Stuart Piggott, self-proclaimed Riesling
advocate, assembled many top European producers for the tasting, drawing on
Austria, Germany and France, (many of whom attended personally), presenting an
incredible array of wines, 37 in all, with 8 Australian wines in the line-up.
Piggott
really focused the show on stylistic territory, concentrating a great deal on
winemaking, perhaps by default placing the disciplined Australian style in an
unstated second-rate position. As Clare producer Jeffrey Grossett remarked, “I
felt like I was the fish for a while there”. It was however a celebration not a
competition, although most available airtime was devoted to showcasing the
new-wave dry wines of Germany and Austria. Grossett is dismissive of what he
sees as this “new fashion” that style and character are more important than
purity and typicity. “It’s a trend that’s going to happen for the next few
years and I just think its crap,” he stated adamantly. It is however a trend
with a strong toehold in both Germany and Austria and there are probably a few
more Riesling ‘experiments’ happening in Australian wineries in 2004 than we
think.
The move toward the pristine Australian
Riesling style as we currently know it, started in the 1950’s when the likes of
Yalumba, Orlando and Leo Buring started to make Riesling with temperature
controlled fermentation in stainless steel and sterile bottling. Technology
weighed in and delivered cleaner, fresher, purer wines, particularly Riesling.
French, Austrian and German Riesling producers have a considerably longer
history of production and stylistic evolution.
Our evolutionary wheel is however turning.
As more producers are exposed to different styles, curiosities stir and there’s
hearty exchange between different sides of the globe, both privately and at
events such as the Frankland Estate tasting. Our technological understanding is
as important to old world producers as their techniques and traditions are to
us.
Whilst Grossett believes the fashion in
German wines will pass, he is looking to evolve his own wines in a measured,
considered way. “We’re chasing mouthfeel in our wines, looking at higher solids
in our ferments” he says. Importantly he adds that this has only been made
possible with greater control and changes in the vineyard. It is viticultural
effort, bringing improved fruit quality, which allows the introduction of other
changes in the winery.
This has parallels in the approach of German
producer Georg Breuer. Skin contact is an important part of his style but he
stresses that this is always dependent upon skin quality. The best grapes with
the best quality skins receive the most contact, up to 18 hours. The most
important work has been done in the vineyard, creating room to overlay a wider
selection of techniques in the winery.
In Australia, skin contact is associated
with low-quality Riesling wines, usually made from machine-harvested fruit, in
which juice and skin contact is not necessarily sought by the winemaker, but an
economic reality. These wines can develop quickly into oily, deeply coloured
wines with trademark kerosene aromas derived from phenolic compounds extracted
from the skins. So while techniques can be exchanged between producers, the
most important part in the process is understanding when to deploy them and,
perhaps more importantly, when not to.
Andrew Hood is responsible for a fair slice
of Riesling production in Tasmania, making a number of wines for others, as
well as his own Wellington label. He
views botrytis management and ripeness as the most important factors in
Tasmanian Riesling production. Indeed, there are some serious challenges with
botrytis for him in 2004. He considers that vineyard management and climatic
factors are more important than soil in the Riesling equation. Hood is clear in
his position that botrytis interferes with the pure expression of Riesling.
Conversely, Alsatian cult producer Olivier
Humbrecht of Domaine Zind-Humbrecht believes that botrytis is a condition that
highlights the character of the site, an essential part of the ‘terroir’. He
occupies a fairly edgy position: all-biodynamic, and fermentation occurs with
the activity of indigenous, non-cultured yeast. His attitude is not far removed
from Germany’s Reinhard Lowenstein in that fermentation starts where and when
it likes and finishes when it finishes. This is part of their version of purity
of expression. Great Zind-Humbrecht wines are just that, but they have become
as renowned for inconsistency as they have for greatness.
Are we being too safe in Australia, perhaps
painting ourselves into a puritanical corner, which is now pretty hard to step
out of? Grossett vehemently dismisses this suggestion but Hood partially
concedes that perhaps we are a bit conservative in some ways; too safe with a
single-track approach to the variety, although he too puts himself in the
hi-tech camp.
Hood seeks stylistic variation working with
a limited set of variables, Riesling character, sweetness, acidity and alcohol.
His Wellington Iced Riesling borrows from the German Eisweins in which
super-ripe grapes are frozen on the vine, water is bound as ice and the sugars
are concentrated as a result. Hood uses chilling equipment to produce the same
effect and can barely supply the demand for this delicious drink. Inspired by
the zippy, high-acid, high-sugar wines of German Ernie Loosen, he’s also made a
wine after the German Kabinett style, running at around forty grams of residual
sugar, hence the name FGR. The first release was received with gushing media
praise and sold out in a flash: one to watch out for.
Getting back to natural fermentation with
so-called ‘wild yeast’, many believe with Riesling there is everything to lose
and little to gain. We’re pretty used to hearing these words when talking of
Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, but you’ll get some pretty strange responses when
Riesling’s mentioned in the same sentence. Hood places considerable importance
on consistency and feels the purity of varietal flavour is jeopardised by
natural fermentation. Grossett’s attitude is similar and he feels these are
distractions from the real issue of fruit quality and pure Riesling character.
Jasper Hill’s Ron Laugton has very different
ideas though. His well-known Shiraz has been naturally fermented since 1990 and
for him Riesling was the final frontier. He acknowledges a leap of faith was
needed and took the partial plunge in 2002 when he separated the fruit into two
parcels, inoculated one and let the other go through unaided. He liked the
results, and in 2003 the whole lot was left to its own devices. “I don’t know
why I was so worried, the finished wine is superior and the behaviour of the
ferment was much better in the uninnoculated wine,” he says. Having tasted the
2003 Jasper Hill Riesling, I’d say there is certainly an improved texture. It’s
more layered and complex, more complete if you like, a better wine perhaps.
Laughton considers that adding cultured
yeast is a substantial intervention, sacrificing character and bringing a far
from pure expression. His philosophy is of minimal intervention both in the
vineyard and winery and his definition of purity and ’terroir’ touches issues many winemakers consider outside of the
scope. That’s another discussion for another time.
While I am not suggesting that we have any
need or desire, to copy, emulate or mimic the styles of other Riesling
producing nations, it is important that we are evolving and pushing our own
envelope in a range of directions. Philosophies will determine the range of
outcomes, but for Riesling lovers it’s good news that stylistically there are
diverging opinions and a growing range of styles as a result. It’s over to you
the Riesling drinker, now. You buy the wines and ultimately you’ll decide who’s
getting it right and who’s not.