Wine's Changing Landscape

Matt Kramer
Posted: October 23, 2001

Not a week passes, it seems, without one winery or another -- Mondavi, Antinori, Southcorp, BRL Hardy, one or another Rothschild -- announcing a "partnership."

Let's be frank. These deals are distribution-rich and wine-empty. So far, I have tasted very few wines from any of these arrangements that are much of an improvement over what the locals in the area are already doing. Really, it's all about the power of the "pipeline." Two forces are at work. One is the public's notion that the winemaker is all-important. If someone makes a swell wine here, then transferring his or her name to "there" seemingly guarantees comparable success. Not so.

Piero Antinori hasn't made a Sangiovese in California at his Atlas Peak Vineyards in Napa Valley that's remotely as good as his production from his native Tuscany. Robert Mondavi, in collaboration with the Frescobaldi family, hasn't improved the quality of Tuscan wines one iota over the standards of the locals.

The "winemaker's vision" is a romantic idea. And yes, it does exist. But not in big wine corporations, you can bet on that. Their standards are those of the marketplace, not some stubborn iconoclast's imaginings of a better wine world.

Still, the business temptation to capitalize on the "name game" is irresistible. Look at celebrity chefs opening restaurants thousands of miles apart. "It's my implacable standards that matter," they say. They defend their ability to be at two (or more) places at once, not simply as restaurant owners, mind you, but as kitchen presences.

For example, Thomas Keller of The French Laundry in Napa Valley has announced he's going to open a restaurant in New York. Tell me, on which night would you rather eat at the French Laundry in Napa: The night Keller is in the kitchen there, or a night he's overseeing operations in New York? Your answer will tell you just how much you buy into the "implacable standards" line.

It's no different with wine. Bordeaux winemaker Michel Rolland ostensibly consults to nearly 100 wineries. Actually, he has a staff and they do the consulting.

Come on, who's kidding whom? Winemaking talent is hardly in short supply anywhere in the world these days. Wine consultants are window dressing. It's all about publicity. If a new or struggling winery wants to attract critics' attention, they sign -- if they can -- the likes of Michel Rolland or Helen Turley. And boom! They're on the map. The consultants for their part offer, you guessed it, their "implacable standards."

Today, the problem isn't making fine wine. There's plenty of talent available. The problem now is selling fine wine. Publicity gets you distribution.

Distribution, you see, is the real problem. Chew on this: About one-third of all wines sold in the United States go through just five wholesalers. According to Wine Institute, a winery trade organization, the number of wine wholesalers has shrunk about 75 percent since 1963. Back then, there were 10,900 wholesalers; today, there are approximately 3,000.

Put yourself in the position of a small new winery. Or even a big Australian, French or Italian winery. How do you get distribution? A wholesaler's "book" has room for only so many wines in a category -- only so many Mendocino County wines, Oregon wines or Australian wines at a certain "price point."

So what do you do? You create alliances. You piggyback on the distribution already established by an existing big player. This explains all the partnering of Mondavi, Antinori, Southcorp and BRL Hardy, for example.

What does this mean for wine lovers? In a word: less. We're seeing wine diversity slowly being strangled.

Wholesalers are trying to snuff out direct shipping, which allows wineries and retailers to ship wines to your door. If small wineries lose access to us, we, in turn, lose access to wines that don't meet mainstream criteria. (Instead, we get wines such as Luce, the Mondavi-Frescobaldi joint venture. Their idea of improving Tuscany's native Sangiovese? Add Merlot.)

Happily, this all remains tentative. We still have plenty of opportunities to find wine originals. It's a classic exercise: Use it or lose it. In wine, as in art, it's always best to buy originals.

Matt Kramer has contributed regularly to Wine Spectator for 16 years.