The Rise of the Kiwi Cru

Discussing quality in New Zealand wine is, in practice, a roll call of wineries with enduring reputations for making good wine regardless of vintage conditions. The prioritization of maker over site makes sense given the relatively recent history of vineyard plantings in the majority of the country. The boom starting in the 80’s that laid much of the blueprint for the current vineyard map of New Zealand was led by families, corporations and overseas investments planting in relatively unexplored (in a vinous sense) parts of the country, ultimately tying vineyard expression to the people who planted the vines rather than historical precedent. The legacy, common in most New World winemaking countries, has left a lasting binary: Domaine wines that exist as the singular expressions of site as told from one point of view, and wines that have been made to address the breadth of an entire region or summation of varietal character. 

While it is true that domaine wines have led the way in highlighting the multitudes of regional character and pushing forward ideas of sub-regionality, the conversation does seem to be shifting. Along with the drive to convert large swaths of agricultural land to vineyard, viticultural knowledge also increased immensely following the initial boom. Across New Zealand, many vineyards now in their second and third decades of harvests, are evidence to the vast amount of research and experience tapped into at the time. Though many of these vineyards have been celebrated long before this decade, the last several years have provided an ever increasing number of lenses of which to view the individual character of these sites. Some of this, can easily be attributed to the increase of small-scale (microscopic in some cases) winemakers, often without land of their own, selecting the most exciting fruit they can afford and creating individual cuvées based on the unique parcels. 

Many of these wines being made by an ever increasing group of talented winemakers producing single vineyard wines have offered an alternative narrative when discussing New Zealand wine regions. Coupled with more established wineries crafting wines from the very same sites has allowed a greater depth of insight into the voices of some of these pieces of land and their inherent quality removed from the whole of the greater region. 

Looking out over Churton Vineyard including the Shoulder Block - the parcel from which Fromm Winery makes one of their single vineyard Pinot Noir

In expanding the preexisting views on quality to include vineyard singularity beyond the expressions of one estate, could New Zealand be adopting something more akin to a Burgundian model? (The comparison to Burgundy is not a swipe at the region’s sacrosanctity within the wine world, but instead a directional guide, a compass reading of a sort). 

The merit of site in Burgundy is so intrinsically linked with quality that it is the vineyards themselves that inform the classification of the wine - a near inverse of thinking in places such as Bordeaux. Regardless of expectations exceeded or missed, the wine in the bottle will still be labelled to conform to a tiered based qualitative system. However, in spite of the vineyard’s role in defining quality, the role of the winemaker is far from passive. The voice of a site may be treasured, but the wineries themselves have captured the hearts and wallets of serious Burgundy drinkers creating a world of wine drinking that positions vineyard at the top of the hierarchy but allowing for the reputation of the producer to act as a trump card.

At face value, the shift in thinking about individual vineyards hardly creates a visible change in our relationship with New Zealand wine. The emphasis is still, justly, placed on the winemaker, but beneath that, there is an additional metric for quality. Instead of considering wines in a simplified construct of ‘high’ quality or ‘low’ based on the maker, considering the site as the equalizer introduces a new paradigm. 

With multiple producers armed with an array of philosophies working with fruit from the same source, there are new ways to see quality. In this construct, the grapes themselves are the basis for quality and the nuances coaxed out or stifled by any given winemaker allow for a broader view of the site.

Inevitably, even with grapes from the same site, not all the wines will be enjoyed equally. But isn’t that one of the exciting (albeit precarious) aspects of enjoying wines from regions like Burgundy. Vintage variance is enough to convert those less enthused with a site or in some cases leave others feeling burned. Perhaps trying a wine from someone looking to break away from stylistic hole may eschew new oak, increase whole bunches or decrease sulfur. And while it may not appeal to everyone, it has the potential to unlock new dimensions of a regarded and studied site. 

Marlborough does lay claim to some of the most well known vineyards whose fruit is making its way into the hands of a diverse set of winemakers with Clayvin being perhaps the most recognizable. But up and down the country, these vineyards that have long been held in esteem by wine makers and growers are beginning to be bottled under an increasing number of labels. Could this shift start to inform new buying patterns and perhaps scratch away at some of the thinking of New Zealand wine? While Burgundy may loom large as an aspiration, it is not inaccurate to think that New Zealand wine could share more in common with the hallowed region than just grape varieties in the future.