In the 2000 edition of Jancis Robinson’s “How to Taste Wine: A Guide to Enjoying Wine”, there is an interesting little piece entitled “Capturing the flavor”. It begins:
“If all wine could tell us was that it was crisp, medium dry, fairly light, and slightly astringent, there would be no need for this book, and little pleasure in wine drinking.”
She is talking about the fact that there is much more to wine than it’s “dimensions”. Philip White over at DRINKSTER has recently addressed the paltry ability to capture a wine in words of some of the previous generations of wine writers http://drinkster.blogspot.com/2009/08/books-vs-blogs-all-bespoke-bullshit.html
I like to call it the ability to textualise wine. I think we can, for the sake of utility, break it down into three categories.
1. The Dimensions of a wine- referred to above in Jancis’ introduction. Sweet or dry, crisp or flat, light or full bodied etc.
2. The Flavours of a wine- here I am referring to the work done on Thiols. The proof via chemistry that certain descriptors that were thought by many to be bullshit or wine wankerism are in fact very real.
3. The Proustian Personality of a wine- Tasting Notes are not complete if they just cover the first two categories. Or at least I don’t think so. Firstly, I believe many wines have personalities. These are not thiols, they are more abstract and less understood. But I believe them to be important. Secondly, when we taste a wine we do not just think of it in terms of of it’s dimensions or flavours. Our memories, which inform all we are and all we write, are associational. Proustian, if you like. We taste a wine and it brings sub-conscious memories to our minds; of places, foods, times, events, moods or even songs. This is the category to which the Poetics of Tasting Notes belong. And this category is the one in which I see our best current wine writers excelling and building on a great heritage of wine writers.
My first real experience of this came through reading Gary Walsh’s work at Winorama (now merged with Campbell Mattinson’s WineFront site, where I see both writers expanding in a playful yet important way on the Poetics of TNs). Before Mr Walsh’s work, I had only read about wine in a dry manner that encapsulated just the categories of a wine’s dimensions and a wine’s flavours. The first thing that struck me about the TNs at Winorama was that there was an open expression of enjoyment and fun in the wines that were being tasted or drunk.
“I found this wine: It was Chateau Latour. The experts talk about the bouquet and the
tannins and the fruit and the symphonies of tastes. But nobody talks about THE HIGH.
Bordeaux is a wine that vintners have worked on for 1000 years. Each wine has a
specific high, which is never mentioned”- Leonard Cohen
So for me, the first time I read about a specific high of a wine, I was reading Winorama and Gary Walsh’s work. But there is still more to it.
As Jancis says, there is a specific problem outside of thiols and dimensions, what language should we use to textualise wine?;
“‘Mmm, delicious’ or even ‘Urggh’ will do perfectly well – if you never want to communicate
with anyone else about wine, if you see no need to remember anything about specific wines
or if you choose not to ENJOY the PLEASURES of comparison and monitoring that wine can
offer.”
She openly states that there is no “cut-and-dried notation or vocabulary” for wine, whilst also admitting that an accepted vocabulary could be useful and is being evolved. I’m not so much for an accepted vocabulary, although it has its use. That’s the realm of thiols and dimensions for me. Wine Poetics are more open slather. An esoteric descriptor can convey far more “about” a wine, than any dry list of descriptors.
Then she embarks on a really interesting notion, which has its philosophical parallel in the form of Lacan and Saussurian linguistics. Dont’ worry about the names, you can research them if you want. It’s the crossover of ideas that matters. Robinson writes that “[s]ometimes accepted tasting terms bear only the loosest of similarities to the flavors whose name they carry”. Wow, you see, you don’t need to study philosophy to know that the word (the signifier/descriptor) and what it refers to (the signified/the thing itself) are related tenuously. The Poetics of wine outside of the concrete and important language of thiols and dimensions.
“You can evolve your own wine tasting vocabulary. If a wine smells like clean sheets or tennis balls to you then register the connection. It may help you identify flavors and wines later on. All you need is a term that leads you from a sniff of the wine to recognition…”- JR
So we have Mr Walsh’s “fragrently wet concrete” or “woolen jumpers” or, just now I see Campbell Mattinson has used the descriptor “chubby oak”. Julian Coldrey of Full Pour uses “hubba bubba oak” amongst others. Ed at winosapien has many different and useful descriptors too. These are not bullshit or wine wankerism. They help explain a wine when concrete language and thiols fall short. They are the Poetics of wine writing. And those that embrace them will lead the charge of the next generation of wine writers, and wine makers and their wines will benefit. And we will all enjoy wine more.
Nice piece!
A couple of further observations:
- Whilst I believe wine exists irrespective of the taster, it only becomes interesting when tasted. So, a tasting note is, in effect, a record of this intersection rather than of the wine in and of itself. That's why I have no problem with wanky tasting notes per se (either my own or others') – whether a note is "straight" or florid simply contributes to the overall level of interest I have in *that person* writing about *that wine*.
- Wine is made by people with intent to produce a certain thing. This is an extra dimension on top of the aforementioned intersection of taster and tasted. Whilst intent isn't everything, I do believe its presence changes how wine ought to be regarded. I won't categorically say all wine is art, but some of it is, and my response to it reflects this status. To sit in front of a grand painting and discuss it only in terms of the type of paint used, or the brushstrokes, profoundly misses its point. Though these aspects of technique are important, I'm interested in how it makes me feel, what I learn about myself, how it might have influenced other works, and above all the worlds that it opens up to me. And so it is with a great wine. See also Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez on perfume.
- Ultimately, all writers of interset develop their own language (imho, of course). Wine writers are no different. Precision of description is a laudable goal but it's a mistake to believe precision equals banality or pseudo-scientific style. Often, metaphor makes points with greater thrust and insight than a straightforward, objective approach. Either way, it's the wine writers whose voice resonates with me in one way or another that I return to regularly. Perhaps that gets to the heart of things – wine is about sharing pleasure, after all.
Thanks Julian. And I could open another tomb of "thought" based soley on what you have offered here in the way of a response! But I won't just yet. I have Rhone whites to taste and write up
Certainly precision need not indicate banality. Many of the wine writers who I take my cue from are far more "precise" then me. They have more experience and their palates are more finely honed. And perhaps they are more talented than me also. I just stick to my voice and see who's interested.
But, whilst some wines call for isolated contemplation, I do believe wine is genrally "about shraing pleasure". Why would any of us write otherwise! To write or to talk is to express a need to share/communicate. And that is the realm of language, something I'm always wanting to explore further.
A very interesting post which I've been thinking about for days Jeremy.
Myself and the other two who help with Australian Wine Journal are constantly disagreeing on wine aroma/flavour descriptors (as these tend to be based on personal perceptions), yet quite often we agree on things such as weight, acidity, tannin, texture and overall impression. But then again, sometimes not. The other two help me out but I always get the final say. HA HA!
The wine which draws the line the most is pinot noir, where myself and Casey are always arguing if a wine is sweet or savoury. Personally I thought this type of descriptor would've been a bit more clear cut. Obviously there's no such thing.
On the other hand I've just read your review of De Bortoli's 2008 Windy Peak Pinot Noir and would have to agree with almost everything you wrote. You've used a bit more descriptors than I would but it's clear to me to see where you're coming from on everything.
Wine is subjective which makes it such a beautiful thing, in essence, when describing wine no one is wrong, or are they?
There certainly are some interesting descriptions starting to float around out there, which brings me to a tale I heard about an old English wine writer…..
Supposedly this particular writer had to face court for describing a wine as having the aroma of:- 'freshly picked chrysanthemums laid on the grave of a still born West Indian baby'.
I'm guessing it was the racial overtones which created the controversy, as I for one could imagine this unusual description being fairly apt for a floral yet savoury and earthy, shiraz viognier. Where the still born West Indian baby undertones come into it I'll just leave alone.
But still, is this description incorrect, or wrong?
Keep up the good work with this thought provoking, down to earth and humble wine website JP.
Cheers again,
Chris Plummer
Thanks Chris.
Yes, the sweet vs savoury thing I confess to often finding difficult to pin down. And Pinot Noir is perhaps where that issue most comes into relief. So many good Pinots (and other wines) seem to me to work on a sweet/ savoury interplay. Add the often apt descriptor "sour cherries" and you've got a lot of debate on your hands.
I don't personally think anyone is "wrong"
when descibing wine, but I do believe in the worth of disagreement. To me this is related to the philosphical aspect of complete essentialism vs total relativism. I think "the truth is out there" but we are inherently incapable of "capturing" it in language. So, I fall between the dualism of right and wrong and try to appreciate the attempt, whilst thinking that debate can shed further light on these things.
Fascinating story about the English wine writer. That is most certainly the "cutting" edge of tasting note poetics! Once again, in a vacuum, it does have some poetical worth IMHO. But the use of race and the child issue means I wouldn't go near it personally.
Maybe I think that sort of poetics comes to close to spoiling enjoyment for many rather than adding to it? And it is, I believe, the sensual pleasure that we are trying to convey in words, and that our words are sensual and about enjoyment themselves.
Tough and intelligent questions, which will lead me to further thought no doubt.
And re your own blog, all that matters is that you have the last say
Cheers
j