One wine to say it all for La Motte
Future classics are harder to identify than past classics: we know which objects and brands were important for our parents and grandparents. A reasonably educated Brit would be able to rattle off the names of the books that were mandatory reading in the late Victorian era. However, he could not even begin to guess what genres would count for his grandchildren.
The word “classic” suggests something that has already stood the test of time. It has to be something that transcends at least a single generation. No-one remembers much about designer outfits from a century ago. Nevertheless, aspirant fashionistas today still know that Coco Chanel raised the concept of the “little black dress” to a more timeless plateau.
The world of wine, especially modern wine, is even less forgiving than the seasonal fashion styles that live and die on the catwalk. Except for the long-standing big names of the Old World (First Growths, and their equivalents in Burgundy) and a handful of New World candidates (Penfolds’ Grange, Cloudy Bay and Vin de Constance) no-one seriously attaches long-term importance to even the most successful of the big names in wine today.
Who would be brave enough to suggest that Screaming Eagle, Bibi Graetz or Tertre-Roteboeuf will attract the interest (and their cult wine pricing) a generation from now?
Many of the past classics in the world of wine have faded from the podium they once occupied. The question is, can they stage a comeback — and if so, how? This is not a frivolous question. Most of the wines that enjoyed considerable status in SA at the turn of the century have been supplanted by more fashionable newcomers.
Some of this is explained by natural attrition: the old making way for the new, with the least edgy tipped off its perch by players who have kept pace with technology, or by catching the eye of a fickle market. The system self-corrects over time: real quality prevails while those who fake it vanish into their own smoke and mirrors.
In the late 1990s the Webb family’s Thelema estate was probably the Cape’s most prestigious producer, whose mailing list offers were sold out within days of posting (the way mail used to get to its destination). Then it lost some of its profile, though it remained commercially successful. Nothing had changed. The wines were — and are still — faultlessly made. The trendies just shopped elsewhere.
The Webbs kept on doing what they had always done, improving and refining the offering, adding cooler climate sites to their vineyard holdings, tweaking their barrel suppliers, replanting vineyards when the time came. Their wines may not appear to be as sought after as they were 30 years ago, but they still sell out over the course of the vintage, at solid (but not outrageous) prices. In short, Thelema is transitioning into classic status.
I thought about this when visiting La Motte recently. The Franschhoek estate produced high-end wines pretty much from its launch in the 1980s until about 10 years ago when the cellar’s focus on popular varieties at popular prices created a disconnect between the estate as brand home and the wines by which it was identified. La Motte is one of the great wine destinations of the Cape, with a thoughtfully managed visitor experience, tasting room and dining facilities.
There’s a world of difference separating the entry-level sauvignon blanc and Millennium red blend from the ultra premium Hanneli R (priced at more than R1,000 a bottle). What seems to be missing is a wine that conveys a sense of the estate itself, at a price appropriate to the estate experience. La Motte is high end, but still affordable. What may be required to vouchsafe its future classic status is one wine that says as much. DeMorgenzon is chenin blanc, Meerlust is Rubicon. La Motte needs a wine that exemplifies La Motte.