A Dance to the Music of Wine

Written by me, and originally published in The Australian Financial Review, August 2005

'The job of any wine region,' Tim Kirk of Clonakilla put to me, 'is to find out which varieties sing.' This said as we drive through Canberra in heavy rain and light rush hour traffic, soothed by Allegri's Miserere (Psalm 51 apparently, that of David's repentance). Even those without Latin and who find most liturgical music just plain turgid couldn't help but be moved by this music: voices singing in perfect harmony.

Harmony is what Kirk is talking about: grapes which are perfectly in tune with the climate, soils, and topography of the place where they are grown, creating wines which express themselves with clarity and regional resonance.

Jeffrey Grosset ith glass of Cooper's Pale seated outside The Rising Sun, Auburn, Clare Valley, South Australia c. 2000

Tim Kirk of Clonakilla in the cellar (2005). Please excuse the barrel distortion (and groan-worthy photographic pun). Pic by Tim White.

Too many Australian wine regions have been planted to a hotchpotch, fruit salad collection of cultivars, winegrowers trying to be everything to everyone. Or sometimes - and this is especially true of newer wine regions - the varieties that were initially selected have proven over time to be not as successful as the early theory suggested.

Finding out what works and what might not work is an important stage in the evolution of any wine region: so Kirk and I are heading to a wine tasting and dinner featuring local and international examples of varieties which are not widely disseminated in the Canberra region. Specifically the white cultivars Viognier and Pinot gris/grigio (what I refer to as pinot g); and the blacks, Sangiovese and Tempranillo.

Not that Canberra doesn't already have a lot to proud of. It does a great job with Shiraz in a rich but spicy style. Also with Riesling: the '05s I've tasted so far have been as good as any from any region, in a really distinct lemony floral style - Rieslings with plenty of chew.

Then there are also the odd good solo performances with Pinot Noir (Lark Hill) and Cabernet Sauvignon (Brindabella Hills), but there are that many vineyards in the region that are not quite warm enough to reliably ripen Cabernet Sauvignon every season, yet are conversely a bit warm for Pinot. These were two of the varieties touted for the region when it first got going. But back to the alternatives.

Viognier has, in fact, been in Canberra for a while, being grown by the Kirk family at Clonakilla for more than a decade and more where it is most interestingly co-fermented with shiraz making one of the most eagerly sought wines in the country. It also does well on its own though. Clonakilla's version and that of Hardy's Kamberra winery are excellent. Hardys have planted 16 ha of the cultivar in the region which represents a major commitment.

Pinot g plantings at present are small but the wines are being fashioned in both fuller-bodied Gris styles, and crunchier Grigio versions. It should do well given the success of Riesling in the district (Pinot g being, along with Gewürztraminer and Riesling, one of the Alsace's famous trio of aromatics). Pinot g, along with Viognier, could well be the altos to sing alongside the soprano of Riesling.

Sangiovese meanwhile is, in theory, a good selection of black grape for the region. Being a thin skinned grape Sangiovese should revel in Canberra's hot, dry summers. As with all Sangiovese plantings in Australia success will greatly depend on the quality of clonal material planted.

Perhaps the most interesting selection for the region is Spain's noble black grape, Tempranillo. Theoretically it makes a lot of sense: it buds late, therefore avoiding the region's notorious spring frosts; and then ripens early. It loves heat - it is grown successfully in many warm regions in Spain - and because of its low inherent acidity will benefit greatly from Canberra's cool nights (Canberra being one of just a few legitimately 'continental' wine growing regions in Australia).

In practice the one Tempranillo that I've tasted from the region, that of Mount Majura, does show varietal characters of redcurrant-raspberry fruit, grainy-sandy tannins, and a peculiar (pleasant) fudge-dried banana flavour, albeit with a minty edge which may be due to the youth of the vines. Tempranillo definitely provides bass.

The next day I'm tasting from barrel all the different parcels that Tim Kirk will put together for his '05 Shiraz Viognier: different notes that will be arranged to form a complete harmonious work. It will be hard to top Clonakilla's latest, the '04, which is nigh-on perfect: fragrant, silky, yet powerful. Ethereal. Allegri would have been pleased to compose it and it's such a refreshing contrast to the gangsta rap muthas booming out of South Australia. Standing ovation please.