Australian wine - discovering culture

Considering the international acclaim for Australian shiraz, it seems strange to think that, as recently as the 1990s, it was sold under the label Hermitage in order to associate it with a region in France. Likewise, Hunter Semillon, which Jancis Robinson described as "one of Australia's wine gifts to the world ", was sold under the label of Rhine Riesling in order to associate it with German whites.

In the early 90s, the European Union forced the Australian industry to stop trading off European names. Although some Australian winemakers were against the change, in hindsight it was the best thing that could have happened to the industry. Once the change was made, Australians started refining their winemaking culture. Not only did this lead to an increase in quality, it also allowed Australians to build reputations of their own.

The improvements in quality and marketing in turn led to a dramatic rise in exports. From 1990 to 2001 Australia's annual exports increased from 38 million litres worth $121 million to around 354 million litres worth $1.7 billion. This was a 10 fold increase in volume and a 14 fold increase in value. In 1975 Australia was a net importer of wine. Today it is the world's largest wine exporter behind France, Italy and Spain.

One of secrets to Australia's success has been its culture. In Australia, winemakers must go to university and learn the science of winemaking. After graduation, they are expected to make wine in a foreign country in order to further develop their abilities. Once acquiring a vast body of knowledge, they return to Australia and further contribute to the local knowledge pool.

Whereas Australian winemaking culture emphasises science and allows the freedom to use it, French winemaking culture is at the polar opporsite. French winemaking culture revolves around the Appellation label. The label was created in 1935 and has strict rules about permitted grape varieties, yields, alcohol content, cultivation, maturation practices, and labelling procedures. If a winemaker follows the rules of their respective Appellation, then they are allowed to use the Appellation label. If they don't follow the rules then they can't use the label.

The Appellation system only exists for marketing purposes. By forcing all winemakers in a specific region to make wine the same way, it becomes much easier for the region to become famous for a specific style. If the region is famous, then all the winemakers in the region also benefit. Furthermore, if each region is famous for a particular style, then different regions of France have no need to compete with each other.

Although the Appellation system helps marketing, the side effect is that it reduces quality. The system is incredibly harsh on innovation, and leaves no scope for the winemaker to adapt techniques to deal with microclimatic variances from year to year. Basically, the French winemaker is nothing more than a robot following inflexible rules. There is no need for them to be educated. There is no need to learn new theories. No need to experinment. No need to worry about competition. In fact, there isn't even a need for French winemakers to clean their vats. The lack of cleanliness is reflected in many French wines, which taste of an extremely dirty winery.

Due to obvious problems with the Appellation label, in 1979 the French created the less restrictive Vin De Pays label. Although the VDP label allows scope for winemaking expertise, in the eyes of the French consumer a Vin De Pay wine signals that the wine is of inferior quality. (Entrenched interests in the French industry work hard to maintain that perception.) Consequently, the Vin De Pay wine sells for a low price and so further reinforces negative perceptions about the label - to the delight of those who use the Appellation label.

Faced with criticism that its winemakers are morons, and their classification systems are restrictive, the French downplay the role of expertise. They argue that the wine will be good as long as the grapes are good. Furthermore, they argue that France has the best environment for growing grapes. Admitedly, there is some truth in the boast. Good wine can't be made from bad grapes and over the centuries the French have learnt where specific varieties of grapes grow well. On the downside, France often suffers from rain during vintage. This causes the grapes to swell with water and become weak. Consequently, French winemakers are often forced to add sugar just so the wine can be made. In addition, France has a small range of growing conditions.

While France has significant problems with rain during vintage and a relatively narrow range of growing conditions, Australia has ideal and diverse environments for growing grapes. These include the Hunter Valley, Barossa Valley, the Coonawarra, Tamar valley, Margaret River. As well as having unique environments that are suited to specific grapes, the regions also have unique histories that add to the symbolic charm of the region's development.

Hunter Valley

The foundations of Australia's wine industry begin in NSW in 1800. Two French prisoners of war, Antoine Landrien and Francois de Riveau, were sent to Australia to promote viticulture. The Frenchman planted 12,000 vines at Parramatta, but despite their strong viticultural tradition, the Australian environment presented novel challenges that they found difficult to overcome. By 1804, they had produced only about 40 gallons of wine 'of a very indifferent quality' and the vines were overtaken by 'blight'.

The Frenchman's failure really didn't disappoint as there was little demand for wine. This changed in 1814 when Governor Macquarie appointed ex-con Dr Redfern to investigate the death tolls on the transport ships. To prevent malnutrition and scurvy, Redfern recommended a pint of wine be given to Convicts every day. It was this need to keep Convicts alive that gave the first pragmatic reason to grow grapes in Australia. Redfern established a vineyard in Sydney's south west in 1818, thus becoming Australia's first wine doctor.

The next lot of vines were planted in the Hunter Valley in 1820. Again, it was the Convicts leading the way. Ex-con Molly Morgan established a wine shack in what is now Maitland and served booze to Convicts and emancipists working in the local coal mines or traveling through the area. Perhaps the Convicts had developed a taste for wine on the transport ships or just wanted to drink themselves into oblivion. Either way, their love of grog made them avid connoisseurs - whatever the wine's quality.

Barossa Valley

During the 1840s and 1850s the Barossa Valley received strong immigration from Germany. Although Germany was famous for its whites, immigrants soon discovered that the white wine culture of their homeland was somewhat unsuited to conditions of the Barossa Valley. Furthermore, whereas the market for the NSW industry were Convicts who would drink anything, the Barossa serviced Adelaide, the City of Churches, which wanted reds for sacrament. Not surprisingly, reds soon became the Barossa's wine of choice.

Yarra Valley

Australia's dominant wine region of the first century was Victoria's Yarra Valley. Vines were first planted 1840 but the district only took off when Swiss settlers migrated in the 1850's and 60s. It was also during this time that gold was discovered, thus creating a huge pool of extremely wealthy individuals. Arguably, it was the first time Australia produced wine for prestige or cultural show. As Melbourne's prosperity continued to climb, so did wine consumption. By 1890, Victoria produced almost 60 percent of Australia's wine - more than all the other states combined.

It is not clear why the Yarra Valley went for Australia's premier wine growing region to its poor cousin. As it consistently produces great wine, it has nothing to do with quality. Contrary to myth, it was never infested by the phylloxera parasite. The only remaining explanation is that it had something to with the culture of their target market, or perhaps, the wider community's dislike of them.

Development as a whole

The Hunter, Yarra and Barossa Valley all had a different history, all faced different environmental challenges and serviced a different kind of market. The common challenges they faced were a cultural cringe and an uneducated pallet. Even though Europe had a completely differently climate and made wine for a different kind of connoisseur, Australian winemakers kept trying to mimic them. By failing to look domestically, they kept themselves in the genesis era when French convicts Antoine Landrien and Francois de Riveau struggled to adapt to a new land. Furthermore, even if they did succeed in producing a quality wine, there wasn't a pool of connoisseurs with discerning pallet to discuss it. As wine styles were so cosmopolitan, it would have been impossible for a large body of consumers to develop a common pallet refined for a particular style.

In the 1950s technology started evolving the industry. Refrigeration was introduced to control fermentation thus providing scope for standardisation across a region. Of even more influence was the invention of the wine cask by Thomas Angove in 1965. The cask helped promote wine amongst a population accustomed to drinking beer and shandies. Although it didn't make Masters of Wine out of yobbos, it encouraged them to take the first step towards the qualification.

1993 was a particularly influential year in the evolution of Australian wine. To protect their iconic brands such as Champagne, Burgundy and Hermitage, the French successfully prevented producers from outside the respective French region from using the labels. Their justification was that foreigners should stop trying to mimic them, and instead create wines with their own unique identity. Although resisted by many sections in the Australian industry, it ultimately benefited Australian producers by forcing them to address the cultural cringe that was inhibiting their winemaking ability as well as the marketability of their wine. By mimicking the French, Australian winemakers had closed their mind to the wisdom of their compatriots and pursued techniques that were not suitable to Australian environmental conditions. Furthermore, they had sent a message to consumers that the French are the benchmark that all others are rated against. Consequently, Australian wine was ranked according to how closely it resembled the French wine and so by definition, it could never be superior.

Once Australians started making wine with its own identity and marketing it as such, both the quality improved as did market acceptance. Whereas 20 years ago most Australians would have said the French are the best winemakers in the world, today most Australians argue that French wine is garbage and Australian wine is the best. In many respects they are correct. French wine is made by morons that simply follow a rule book. Furthermore, they trade off the region's reputation and so make little effort to improve the quality of their individual winery.

Internationally, a domestic focus also had a huge impact for Australia. A nation that tries to mimic the culture of another has no credibility. But once Australians built their own reputation, world accolades followed. From 1990 to 2001, annual exports increased from 38 million litres worth $121 million, to around 354 million litres worth $1.7 billion - a 10 fold increase in volume and a 14 fold increase in value. Today Australia is the single largest exporter of wine outside of the European Union, and the fourth largest wine exporter in its own right, behind France, Italy and Spain.

The story of the creation of Penfold's Grange, Australia's flagship shiraz, is typically Australian in that espouses the larrikin spirit of breaking rules and persisting in the face of adversity. After visiting France on a fact finding mission, Penfold's chief wine maker 'Max Shubert' returned to Australia with the aim of creating a long lived wine, with individual Australian characteristics, that would be rated on par with the best the French had to offer. However, the wine required many costly innovations such as refrigeration to control fermentation and maturation in new oaks casks that whilst common place today, were new to Australia at the time. The 1952 Vintage was released in 1955 however condemned as a wine that 'no one in their right mind would buy, let alone drink'. Shubert was ordered to cease production in 1957 but he continued secretly, hiding the bottles behind a masonite wall in Penfold's 'Magill winery'. Official production recommenced in 1960. Today, some people argue Penfold's Grange is the Southern Hemisphere's only 'first growth'. It is sometimes criticised because it is not always a single vineyard wine.