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The
New Barossa
Part 1:
introduction
The Barossa currently has a
bit of a buzz about it, and I’d travelled there to meet the next
generation of potential winemaking stars. Of course, every wine writer
tends to think the most dynamic, buzzing and exciting wine region is
the one they’ve just visited, but the Barossa genuinely seems to be
a region on the up.
Historically, the Barossa
has been the spiritual home of the Australian wine industry. The first
vines here were planted in the mid-19th century by German immigrants
keen to recreate the wines of their homeland – hence Riesling was a
popular choice. Grenache, Mourvèdre and Shiraz also found their
place. For much of the Barossa’s history the focus has been predominantly
on fortified wine styles, which were very popular, and to some extent easier to make
in this warm climate than table wines. At Langmeil winery an old
poster – from when the winery used to be called Paradale, in the
1950s – illustrates how fashions have changed. It advertises 12
wines: five Ports, three Sherries, two Muscats and just two
‘beverage wines’ – Hock and Claret.
This region has seen some difficult times. Most recently, the Barossa
suffered in the vine-pull scheme of the 1980s when many of the
fantastic old Shiraz and Grenache vineyards were uprooted as the focus
of the Aussie wine industry shifted to cooler-climate sites and to
Cabernet Sauvignon, away from warmer areas and the more traditional
varieties.
 Things
revived in the late 1980s and early 1990s when the likes of Charles
Melton, Peter Lehmann, Rockford and St Halletts raised the profile of
the Barossa as a source of characterful, uniquely Australian wines,
and the momentum here has been growing ever since. Change and renewal
are a natural part of life, though, and as with many wine regions
across the globe, a new generation is now emerging, keen to make the
most of the Barossa’s precious resource of old vines.
The Barossa has some of the
world’s oldest commercial vineyards. South Australia has been spared
from phylloxera, which is now kept out by an effective and strictly
enforced quarantine. Vines are almost always planted here on their own
roots, and there are quite a few vineyards with vines 100 years old
and counting. The oldest vineyard with its original vines that I’ve
seen dates from 1843, and it’s amazing to think that these  ancient
vines, dramatically knarled and twisted, are good for anything. As an
aside, there’s the intriguing scientific question of why old vines
are preferred to new ones: many scientists suggest that it’s their
naturally low vigour that is responsible for the better grapes they
are reckoned to produce. Whatever the explanation, there are plenty of
fantastic old vine vineyards here, and the good news is that the
ambitious young winemakers can get their hands on them. Here’s why.
 One of the key facets
contributing to the current dynamic state of the Barossa is that most
vineyards are owned by growers who have no ambition to make their own
wine from them. These tend to be long-term residents who see
themselves as career grapegrowers. Fortunately, the Barossa has
largely been spared the influx of retired doctors, lawyers and bankers
who have flocked to regions such as the Hunter – ‘lifestylers’
who want to live the wine dream, and whose ‘vanity’ wines are
rarely interesting. The fact that most vineyards here are grower-owned
has lowered the bar of entry of passionate but capital-poor young
winemakers. They can spot a promising vineyard, pay double what the
big company was previously buying the grapes for (usually remarkably
little), and make wine they way they want, often in the corner of
someone else’s winery.
 The grower benefits from
both the higher price they get for the grapes and the fact that they
can often taste a bottle that comes from their vineyard, rather than
seeing the grapes disappear into some huge blend. The most far sighted
of the winery owners don’t mind their young winemakers doing a bit
of homebrew, because they know they’ve got a better chance of
keeping the best ones longer if they allow them a project which they have the creative
direction and ownership of. It’s a story that’s been repeated
dozens of times in the Barossa over the last few years, to the extent
that it’s hard to keep track of
what’s going on – tough for wine writers and buyers, but
good for the health of the wine scene here.
The goal of this series is to introduce some of the new winemakers and
talents emerging from the Barossa, telling the stories of wines that
look set to move this region forward to greater things over the next
decade. I’d been sufficiently impressed by tasting some of
these wines in London that I paid my own way to visit the Barossa and
see what was going on at first hand in September 2004. I then followed
this up with a second visit in October 2005. The roll-call here is by no means
a comprehensive list of the producers doing good work, but I hope it
conveys an impression of what’s going on and introduces readers to
some new names who deserve the recognition, as well as catching up on
a few more established producers. Unless indicated otherwise, the
reports here are from the initial 2004 visit.
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